Occasional ramblings from a feminist, atheist, autistic academic and historic narrow boater who likes cats, beer, tea, and solitude, and is strangely fascinated by the cinema organ.
Tuesday, 21 March 2017
Following in the footsteps
The steps leading up to the street from Salts Mill, worn by hundreds of feet every day, thousands if not millions over the years. And I very much doubt whether they are the original ones.
You know sometimes when you're working a lock, you can't help but be standing in a puddle? As Pete pointed out to me at the AGM, that's not coincidence; that's a hollow in the stome worn by the boots of those who worked the lock before you. And I find that a pretty amazing thought.