Okay—in the wee town of Gore (no relation to the guy who invented Global Warming) I happened upon some transmogrifications in the process of transmogrifying—
—although you’d have to wait a while to see the results. Here’s the artificial structure created by the town fathers for transmogrifying redundant herbage into something resembling doggy-dunnits for use on the park gardens. (I like the bi-lingual sign too … human for wannabe dumpers, and canine imagery to let the pooches know to keep on moving).
A bleak and showery day coupled with a teacher (behind the tree) and a bunch of her pupils having a physical break from endless indoctrination with present day ‘values’. Several boys and a girl who was so active and so everywhere that her singular presence balanced the numbers—
—taken from far enough away to give me ‘plausible deniability’ should any shrieking harridans leap out of the shrubbery and accuse me of being a pervert. So here we have programmed physical activities transmogrifying today’s wee ones into tomorrow’s leaders and other challenging stuff.
AND THE TRANSMOGRIFICATION
of souls, here’s the Gore transmogrifier. One of ’em. An atheist myself (it means I’m covered in scales, have horns and a spiked tail, eat babies well seasoned with sulphur and carry a pitchfork everywhere) I can still delight in attractive scenery—
—when I find it. One day I may just get inside and sniff out some shots; the chaplain must be a good guy ‘cos he hung back when I was shooting once. Good, or perspicacious …
AND TO FINISH
this sign outside the entrance doors to one of the Gore supermarkets—
—The Spouse wanted to enter, and as much as I pointed at the sign I still got roped in for trolley-pushing duties. Which when you think about it, sure beats being tied up outside …