Mud, glorious mud!

A short one.

The mornings are getting darker and darker with me setting out for work at about 05:45.  I think what classifies ‘dawn’ in muslim circles (thus triggering a call to prayer) is the amount of light needed to distinguish a dark thread from a light one.  It was about that time when I was driving past Granville Park.

Granville Park and the surrounding area isn’t particularly wholesome: not the sort of place anyone would want to wander around in darkness.  This isn’t to liken the area to New York’s Central Park (which, if US crime series are anything to go by, find cunningly murdered bodies littered everywhere) but isn’t a safe one.

Anyway, driving by in the cool grey of pre-dawn I glanced over and had one of those trigger-memories of running through Whitewebbs Park, UK.  Adjacent is a 2002 picture of “Hairy Harriet”, mother of 6 and certifiable after a few drinks.  She also had no other choice but to plod through the Whitewebbs mud on an almost daily basis.  A genetic, hard-wired thing.

I wonder if Kik’s and my knees are up to a little romp through the mud this July???