Faded Glories

Next week's operation is on my ankle, the van is now loaded and tomorrow we set off for Cornwall.
This morning however I was back at the shoulder consultant. Whilst the ankle is the result of trauma old and new, the shoulders are simply the near inevitable result of 3 decades of climbing too hard. Time has taken its toll, but the consultant has managed to reduce the chronic inflammation in my left AC joint without surgery, he's now about to start on the right. More really big needles.

Sat in Lancaster's one way system this morning it was hard not to feel surrounded by metaphor. This historical powerhouse of a city has seen much better days, won wars, built monuments - but now it seems to just struggle by, history counting for naught. Under the grime and between the eyesores are more once wonderful buildings than most northern towns can lay claim to, architectural statements, the sort built to impress, buildings that say look at me. But few now seem well loved or maintained, gargoyles and stone roses are forlornly adorned with placards and billboards, enduring golden sandstone momentarily marred by transient graffiti. All in all it's a bit depressing. But, like surgery and intramuscular injections, the new bypass and proposed redevelopment may still see it shine again. Here's hoping. 

After a really positive consultation I made my way back via friends to collect a wheelchair and took the opportunity to pass through the Grade 1 listed Dallam Tower Estate*, just to remind myself that some old things not only endure, but find new purpose, continue to shine. 

*Hmmm, old building or deer - nature wins.