At the time of writing, and as far as I know, Mr Putin’s plutonium tipped armageddon is NOT presently on its way to mither my little backwater in west Wales. They would surely have said something on radio four if it were. So at 4:12 pm on bank holiday Monday I can safely put the title to this post. Trouble is I’m not sure of the timescale they’re talking about when they say “nigh”.. If nigh is the four minutes of the eponymous warning from the 1970s then I should still be ok for another cup of tea. But if “nigh” refers to any quantity of time greater than 4 minutes, then yes, I suspect the end is, in fact, nigh. In mathematics this might be written as End=t>4.
What’s he blathering on about I hear both you and me saying? What I’m trying to say are two things. That (a) all is well with the world if I can find the time (in a hectic life) to post some telegraph pole photos and (b) If nigh was indeed imminent, then here are some telegraph poles to fill your remaining four minutes.
Back to Ireland again. Yes, I know, my fantasy job as globe-trotting espionater often takes me over there with time off between top secret missions to spot poles and also interesting railway station paraphernalia. Herewith: Can’t quite remember where this hairily ivied pole was but then we stopped at Roscrea Station, Co. Tipperary for a good nerdle. Then on to Birr, Co. Offaly for those interesting petrol pumps and finally, a bookshop in Thurles (pronounced Turlies) where I found that intriguing book. Who cares what it says inside it, it’s got poles on the front.
One regret was that whilst in Roscrea, I didn’t take a photo of “Breens Footwear” shop. Google streetview will give you an idea of how it was in 2019. Let’s just say the last five years have not been kind to it.
