England out.

So there it is. OrĀ rather, there it was. Everyone’s at a loss to explain it but everyone’s an expert all the same.

Highly paid Premier League players can’t play as a team. They’re too tired/greedy/out of position/injured/burdened by the shirt, etc, etc. Any or all of the above.

Still, we can’t be the only nation that gets excited about our chances in the World Cup and then gets disappointed when we get knocked out. And at least we aren’t France.

This sight greeted me in Swingate the other evening. Seemed appropriate. Bet Sainsburys can’t give ’em away now.

Hopes and dreams trampled in the dirt. Again.

Excess jeanage.

A little random. A discarded pair of jeans by the fire assembly point.

Had a near-death experience brought two colleagues together in the heat of passion (and a massive office fire)?
Had they cast aside their clothes with gay (or straight) abandon to share the joy of survival only to dress hurriedly and not-quite-completely afterwards?

I, for one, would notice if I had neglected to put my strides on, but smoke inhalation and post-coital endorphins can do funny things to the best of us.

A moment for Fergus.

Yesterday, I got the last parking space in Swingate. Today I wasn’t so lucky. The barrier let me in but I was like a forlorn 7-year-old realising this game of musical chairs was over for me (though it didn’t stop the naughty red Focus behind me park in the illegal non-space).

Anyway, so on to Danesgate it was. Slightly further away from the station and the detour means I’d miss my train, but no matter.

On the tree by the entrance to Danesgate is a Missing Dog poster. Here it is:

I haven't seen this dog.

So I wondered if they’d had any joy. And on closer inspection there was a web address at the bottom of the poster, partially obscured by a drawing pin.

A quick Google and I’d foundĀ AlfiesLostDogs.com. It’s a site that aims to help people find missing dogs. Give them the details and they’ll put them into a template and send you flyers back so you can post them up in your area.

You can moan all you like about the art direction and typography (if you’re that way inclined) but there’s no denying Alfie (or rather Justine, his owner) has got his heart in the right place.

The site also acts as a central database that puts people who’ve found dogs in touch with people who’ve lost them. Another quick search turned up Fergus’s entry and the accompanying messages of goodwill.

Well dear reader, it doesn’t end well. Following the forum thread, Fergus’s body was found a few weeks after he went missing. He was by the side of the road, not far from where he was last seen. Touchingly, it seems he was heading back in the direction of his home but didn’t quite make it.

The web eh? A force for good, for community, for finding out that a random missing dog has gone to the big kennel in the sky.

This post is dedicated to the memory of Fergus the Scottish terrier.

First glove of the season.

Lost glove

Crossing over Lytton Way on the bridge, I see the forlorn shape of a black woollen glove, abandoned, waiting for its owner to return. But lost gloves and glove losers are so rarely reunited.

I wonder, can Parking in Stevenage become a force for good? Could it become a sort of Gloves Reunited site? After all, I’ve already explored my altruistic sensibilities with my shopping trolley rehousing project earlier this year.

But no, there is already too much to report on in this blog. I just can’t afford to offer people with odd gloves false hope. If I see another – like you all undoubtedly will – I shall simply offer up a silent prayer for the fallen.

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