Shrubhill #8

Never mind mono Monday, derelict Thursday or Pensioner's Innuendo Friday. It's Shrubhill Sunday again.

Well... there's no workmen on a Sunday (apart from that one time, and they were sub contractors so could have cared less), I have time to jump fences and get stuck with time to figure out how to extricate myself from tight spots.

Lazy morning involving sleeping and washing up before taking her home early afternoon. I came home to work via Shrubhill and nabbed this one.

White paint on metal pillar. No date, no frills.

Next Sunday I need a grappling hook, some rope and a conviction that if I get in, I can get out again...! (Perhaps I'd better take a screwdriver too; just in case)

If no one has seen a Cigs blip by 2100 BST next Sunday, then call the emergency services and send them to Shrubhill. I can then sell the story in a 127 Hours style about how I got trapped under a giant aerosol can of mauve paint.