Whatever floats your boat

“I LOVE digging holes” is genuine Green-Gym volunteer feedback. 

He certainly got his chance today ...

for this was what the site warden had in mind for us, high on the Chilterns scarp:

The task will be: digging out and replacing two gate posts (you will need digging and tamping tools)
But also there will be some additional: clearing vegetation from a fenceline (loppers, bow saws, slashers)
Should get lots of folk, or folk that prefer not to grub about in the dirt …

Actually the first job was to unload the trailer of tools + gate-post #1, and pass them over the wire to the field where we would be working.  Moving gate-post to work-site is one of those tasks which is much easier when all of the team are facing in the right direction:

Volunteers then had a walk up to the end of the field, through a gate, and back along the other side of the fence in order to get into position themselves.  This was occasion for much knowledgeable comment about the diversity of wildflower-cover (and absence of unwanted species) on the chalk grassland:

Once all tools, materials, and workers were in place, the warden could demonstrate what needed to be done.  1 x side-gate to be removed; 1 x gate-post to be removed and replaced:

The gap in the line, where the defunct side-gate was, will be filled IDC with railings.  Meanwhile, the old gate was stripped of its metal fittings, which can be re-used:

When they had time to notice (and in between “slow-moving showers”), volunteers may have observed that they were working at a spot with some wonderful views:

While the gate-post-hole diggers set to, the other Green-Gymmers on task today had the opportunity to work in a slightly more sheltered location:

Although separated by some distance, conversation in both groups touched on things Ancient Roman.  The fence-line clearers uncovered “a Roman stile”:

“Well how else would Roman soldiers have got over the wire fence?”

Meantime, the hole-engineers had discovered “a small woodhenge”.  Remains of old post had to be separated from the chalky soil excavated from the slot being prepared for the new post:

For some reason, musings about not even being at Chipping Norton, Chipping Sodbury, or Chipping Campden led to reminiscences of school lessons: from rhymes we discovered we all knew (“Latin is a language as dead as dead can be; first it killed the Romans, and now it’s killing me”) to stories we had been given to read about the exploits of the Roman Army.  This, for instance, from an account of the industriousness of the troops who had landed on the shores of Britain:

Laborant et cantant.

They work [like Green-Gymmers].
And they sing [which, on the whole, Green-Gymmers don’t do]

Bene laborant.

They work well.

Non bene cantant.

They sing like Florence Foster Jenkins.

That in turn led to recollections of many a wondrous mistake made by unwilling pupils.  This, for instance, by one of my own class-mates:

Marcus est miles Romanus.

Correct answer: ‘Marcus is a Roman soldier.’

(Incidentally, poor style.  Better would be: Marcus miles Romanus est.)

Translation offered by pupil: ‘Marcus is miles from Rome.’

Naturally, as the mound of splintered ‘woodhenge’ grew, it was also observed that “The People’s Front of Judea … were a splinter group, weren’t they?”

After tea-break, a third task was available for any volunteer who fancied a change: looking for flints to add to the material to be tamped in around the new gate-post.  Some of us had more success than others, but walking around in hope of finding spoil left by rabbits at least afforded an opportunity to take in some different views of the landscape:

As finishing touches were being put to the gate-post installation, it was something of a matter of faith (trust in the Green-Gymmer, who had wielded the spirit level) that the new post was: 

a. in the right place

b. straight

Anyone who had glanced at post and gate might have been forgiven for having some misgivings on either point:

We were assured by the Master Measurer that the post was perfectly straight, it was just the ground that was wonky.  And indeed, by the time we left, it had been demonstrated that gate and post did match up:

Regrettably, there was no time left over to tackle gate-post #2.  That’s for another time – or for someone else.