counting down to the next change
which here means the next Challenge, but in the
here’s a wee snap for you to be challenged by. With. Whatever … but if you can tell me what it is without looking it up or asking the family antique, you are older than you
think will admit.
I was bimbling a back way through the park and in traversing the road less travelled happened upon a wee storage place, wherein was the below beast—
—which all will recognise instantly as a concrete bath tub. A bit old-fashioned, perhaps, yet with room for the soap and loofah and rubber ducks at the far end (and a big fat bumble bee at this end).
IF YOU DID RECOGNISE
it, well done and good for you. (Quite wrong, of course, but at least you had the gumption to give it a name.)
I don’t know either.
But I believe it to be a horse trough—you know, one of those things they scattered about town-and-countryside with mad rapturous abandonment a hundred and more years ago, for refuelling the ol’ motive powers of waggons and stuff.
I hear your mind ticking … of course. These days we’ve changed from waggons to motor-cars (autos), from velocipedes to Segways, from hay to petrol (aka gasoline) and from free water-troughs to card-operated self-service pumps.
have a nice duck. First baby of the season—
—he may not look much but in the last few days he changed from being an inert egg to a highly manoeuvrable speedy wee feather-coated surface dweller; soon to change from limitations of just 2 dimensions to the freedom of 3. Boom boom~!
And my apologies for the unchanging condition of that duck pond. Yuk …