Digging up the Road

All of a sudden, life seems to have turned into the first chapter of the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. By Good Friday, expect to see me spread-eagled in the road in front of a JCB. I have been aware for the last 48 hours that there were men digging up the road near to the church. I presumed that this was to sort out the drain which floods, but no. Studying the splodges of paint o­n the road today, I realised that they were putting in “nibs” – the thingies which make roads narrower at junctions. This, if carried out, will mean that we lose quite a lot of parking around the church. These are the parking spots used by anyone with mobility problems and also brides coming for their weddings and undertakers parking hearses.

I've been to almost all the Community Council meetings for a year – I know there has been no consultation about putting nibs o­n that particular junction.

No-one was available at the Council at 1630, so I ran out into the road and waved my arms around and shouted about coffins until o­ne of the men took pity o­n me and asked for my name and contact details. I fear that this attempt at changing civil policy is unlikely to succeed.

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