Good moaning, great to be back in the saddle again...! I was hoping to start off the year 2019 with cheerful, heart warming tales from our fair town and so I started out this morning, the first day of the new year, with a blank sheet and a wander in search of the elusive positive.
First irritant was the sight of rubbish strewn on pavements not 15 metres from my own front door.
The detritus of unwanted food, empty beer cans and heaps, yes, quite literally, heaps of Christmas packaging.
Bagging the edibles may have helped, but unlikely to deter the ever-hungry gulls who can destroy a plastic bag seemingly in seconds, and it is certainly difficult to get a plastic bag sturdy enough to house the empty light-sabre boxes, the kitchenware packaging – a new microwave box – and the old plastic Christmas trees.
One help would be for residents not to put the rubbish out until the morning of the collection, but that presupposes the landlords of the multi-occupied properties have allowed for a safe storage area, not likely.
Failing that, all should have ample recycling and household rubbish wheelie bins, again supplied by the landlords and, again, unlikely.
Perhaps a nudge from the council telling landlords they will have to pay towards the weekly clean up might help.
|Also in the news - Littlehampton’s town centre is ‘on the up’ according to high street traders following a successful Christmas period; a Littlehampton woman has been inspired by ‘the power of love’ for her husband to organise a concert for a dementia charity; and a homeless woman who slept rough in Littlehampton for a month has had her belongings burnt in a nearby city|
FROM the littered mean streets, off to the promenade, surely something to delight there even on a grey day, but it was not to be so.
First thing I saw was an elderly man staggering and trying to disentangle himself from a near invisible ten-metre dog lead with a very small dog on one end and, I guess, the invisible young owner on the other side of the prom and out of sight behind the East Beach Café.
Highly dangerous those spring leads, especially if the person on the opposite end to the dog is not paying attention...
IN my last column before Christmas I mentioned the cheerful sight of seasonally dressed Celebration Samba drummers banging away ‘neath the clock tower on a damp miserable morning and our Tyndall Jones out there in a flash rattling his bucket.
Interestingly enough, in a very short time from the good natured few who gathered there, he collected the princely sum of £70 for local charities.
Particularly interesting is the fact that so few gave so much whilst on the Christmas High Street event attended by thousands, the many gave so little and he only raised £100.
ANOTHER pre-Christmas highlight was a performance by The Duck Pond Sailors at the launch of their new album held at The Boathouse Restaurant on the West Bank Marina.
From rousingly bawdy ballads to gentle songs that tell of our lovely River Arun and how it means so much to us – especially the older, appreciative folk who have lived most of our lives here.
Listening to them with a pint of good ale and the opportunity, should you so choose, to join in with the now quite familiar lyrics is an uplifting experience.
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