Marionville Road
The barrel scraping continues.
What started as a glorious sunny autumn day turning into a grey hanging autumn day somewhere around late morning.
I'd set off for the unbounded joy that is the team meeting in cool crisp conditions; perfect for photography but I had to (a) get money to pay for the cost price Highland Park and (b) wade through fag ash in the new town to try and get to the bottom of a minor mystery (not solved it just yet)
After the tedium had ended, I was out and facing the ire of wronged wrongdoers. And the woman who offered me her seat and then 3 minutes later tells me she's incontinent....
But a productive day (on all fronts); I managed to sneak past the lawyer, score some birthday bits for youngest Ciglette, and even do some work.
And I happened to pass this one; I had actually got the one by the bus stop further up by the retail park in mind, but the bus stop looked a bit tame, so this one got the nod from the selection panel when I finally rolled in under cover of darkness,
White pen on black paper recycling bin; undated. Dot for the I is more over the G than anywhere; squiggly underline.
(Extra - imagine if Cigs wasn't mono all the time.....)
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