Stairway to heaven

Tip: don't look out the window when there's arc welding going on if you value your retinas

At 9:00am this morning a wonderful sound rang out through the streets of Queen’s Park. An electrical generator spluttered into life, conjuring the fleeting olfactory illusion of beefburgers and diesel in my diet obsessed mind. This was no chuck wagon, however. Seconds later, an angle grinder was screaming its way through the pile of rusting Victorian cast iron which used to be the railings for the front steps.

Almost three months to the day since Des in the basement was forced to jump for his life as the front steps collapsed underneath him, the final re-instatement work has commenced. We will be able to go in and out of the front door once more. Hurrah! The postman can deliver the mail again. Hurrah! Eejits on their way home from the pub can leave pants and half-full pint glasses on the doorstep on a Friday night again. Thrice Hurrah!

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