Step forward Richard Lovelace

My Iron Bar ready for use

I try not to covet my neighbour's ass (and I'm sure that Luc and Diana would have some strong words to say if I did) but I must confess to being unreasonably envious of an iron bar my friend Mike has. It's not any old iron bar: it's a large iron bar for serious work. An iron bar that enables things to be done. An iron bar to use with pride.

And now I've got something as good. Bought yesterday on a whim for a mere £20. Was £20 ever better spent? Just look at its sleek lines and drool over the latent power in its construction. I have a feeling that I'm embarking on a beautiful and productive relationship. Happy days in the garden to look forward to!

Where does my fascination for ferrugenous fitments come from? I've got absolutely no idea although the romantic in me would like to think that I have been inspired by the words of Richard Lovelace in the last stanza of his poem To Althea, From Prison: 

Stone walls do not a prison make,
Nor iron bars a cage;

 

Of course, the romantic in me could be completely wrong and I just need a holiday. Of which, more later.