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Mornin', specifically, from rural Fenland - or it would be if I was on the other side of the A1 highway. THIS side is bumpy, but the other side is flat all the way to Warsaw.

Just to let you know how I feel about this locale, here is a little big of doggerel I wrote a few years back, when it it looked like I'd finally gotten away for ever. However, as some body once noted - 'Man plans, the gods laugh'.

Adieu to the Flat Bit, or The Farewell to the Fens.
(On leaving Cambridgeshire for good, with apologies to the late A E Housman Esq.)

St Ives, St Neots, Needingworth,
The glummest towns upon the earth.
I'd sooner cut my throat and die,
Than see their signposts passing by.

Sutton, Earith, Eynesbury.
They gloom and gloam in misery.
The sweetest sight my eyes shall bear?
Their signposts in my rear view mirror…

From the Region's highest hill,
(a scant ten yards above the sea) -
My heart can scarce contain the thrill,
I spy, I'm sure, the other tree!

Ten leagues away (it could be more),
The domes and spires of Old Warsaw.
A tractor passes, one tyre flat,
The driver spits upon my hat....

This Region holds a soul in thrall,
Austere and filled with bitter gall.
With Southoe waiting round the bend,
The by-pass is your greatest friend.

Such towns as these aren't worth the grieving,
All look much better as you're leaving.
The best of views, to this Beholder,
Are seen when looking o'er the shoulder.

(Anon, but known to be Tac Foley)
 
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Good morning to all from the Oregon Coast,
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