10 July 2018
My nerves about the Running School were based on Commando’s reports of his sessions there. Each time he’d come home drenched in sweat and filled with tales of something that sounded very much like torture. For someone who has spent her whole life avoiding any kind or organised exercise this was not a welcome prospect. If it stopped my back and leg hurting it might be worth it but that didn’t mean I was going to enjoy it. Continue reading The Running School and beyond
17 March 2015
A little while ago I visited Cross House, the ancient shelter for people waiting for the Itchen Ferry boats. Cross House was built on base of the old Itchen Ferry boundary cross and, close to the building, I found a strange rectangular stone. This, I discovered later, was one of twelve modern boundary stones, carved in the council workshops in 1988 and placed at significant points along the city boundary. It was not the first one I’d stumbled upon but it was the first time I’d been able to find out what I was looking at. As Tuesday was my last chance for a walk before I went back to work, I decided I’d revisit the first boundary stone. Continue reading Boundaries, stones, woods and lack of energy