Not Our Finest Hour
VILLAGE ENVIRONMENT GROUP
Not Our Finest Hour
Not our finest hour as a group. Heavy rain had kept us indoors in December. After messaging everyone, we had failed to inform Shady Williams who had gone to our rendezvous, despite the weather. Sue (his wife) rang to say he hadn’t returned.
Well, we put a plan of action in place and started our search. A resident of Vennwood Close said he’d seen what appeared to be an action man flouncing about in a puddle. We knew who that was. Big John went to the Knap in search of a lifebuoy, as we knew you had to be careful around large volumes of water. When we got there all we could see was his hat. Distraught and fearing the wrath of Sue, panic set in as we knew she didn’t like him getting wet.
Then came our Christmas miracle. A whimper followed by some not so Christian language. Fishing him out of the stream behind us with his litter picker secure in his clenched fist, he had apparently been washed down the storm drain, adjacent.