I’m not normally one to gloat – honestly – but don’t say I didn’t tell you in this column months ago that it would take something of the magnitude of the Tonga earthquake of 1911 (recently revised to an 8.4 if you’re interested) to keep those frackers at bay.
A few rattling vases every now and again certainly wasn’t going to stop the new Klondike kids from setting up shop on the Fylde coast to get us out of the chocolate dip (sorry, double dip) recession.
Mind you if it had shaken the shelves at Buckingham Palace or sent trembles around the subsidised bars in the House Commons it would, of course, have been a different matter.
Anyway, I’m sure a spot of Superglue will keep The Manager’s jugs in place (if you’ll pardon the expression) once those frackers start blasting again.
What I’m currently more concerned about is rooks. We’ve a lot of them in Poulton and they’re fabulous. All right, they’re a bit noisy at times but they arrive every year before the leaves are on the trees, re-build what’s left of their nests, raise their families and then depart until next year. Like “travellers” but nicer.
Granted there’s not quite as many of them this year (rooks that is), since their stately home at the junction of Queensway and Blackpool Old Road was deemed diseased and summarily axed, replaced by a twig which residents were assured would grow big and proud in years to come (long after we’ve all gone if its current progress is anything to go by).
Hopefully, no more of the trees they call their own will vanish, though I’m a shade concerned by the new plans to convert Poulton from a market town into a supermarket town.
There seems to be a little confusion as to whether we’re getting an Asda or a bigger Booths or both - or more, or neither. Those wonderful fictional “artists impressions” are popping up all over the place and they all seem equally vague. A little over a week ago the library (on which a small fortune has only recently been spent) looked doomed - set to move upstairs and out of sight somewhere that few people could find it and even fewer could actually access).
Now it might be staying. The roads might be changing, Or they might not. Parking could be at a premium,. Or it won’t. And what’s going to happen to the little plot land currently accommodating the rooks? The council will probably get their tree expert to consign them to history on the grounds of health and safety - or profit
It’s a perfect time for members of the Poulton Hysterical Society to take arms but they are probably still tying themselves up outside every licensed premises bemoaning the night time economy. Why not save the rooks instead?.