Keeping It Green

One day, I shall probably stop caring about things. I shan't mind that Indie writers can no longer sign books in Waterstones. I won't fret that future teenagers will have to sit gender discriminatory EBaccs, (had letter in Guardian; missed it? never mind). I'll even stand back and let the Town Council build all over our local urban green space. 

As some of you know, it is almost exactly five years since I started my campaign stop a green field near where I live from being covered in Tesco School of Architecture houses. Two years ago, I put in a Town Green application, as the field used to be part of an old Common. Both Town and District councils objected. Wonder why? Just heard recently that in December, there will be a Public Inquiry to settle the matter, hopefully once and for all.

Applying for Town Green Status has been a tremendous undertaking. I have learned a great deal about Housing Acts, Land Acts, Open Spaces Acts, and things people got up to on the field in the old days. I have also learned about what goes on behind the scenes in local government, thanks to the Freedom of Information requests, which are submitted regularly in a variety of names.

Because this is an area of social housing, the community cannot afford a lawyer to represent them at the Inquiry, so guess who will be acting as lay advocate? A rather steep learning curve for a pensioner with only a 'lower second' in English and Archaeology. 

However, we are extremely lucky in having the support of the Open Spaces Society, and the editor of the local paper, who publishes informative articles telling other residents what we're up to, plus my sarky letters about local councillors and their so-called ''green'' agenda.

 Researching the history of the land has unearthed some fascinating stuff. The best discovery so far is a deed of conveyance signed by Apsley Cherry Garrard, whose family lived locally. Apsley Cherry Garrard was on Scott's ill-fated Polar Exploration. Aged 24, he found Scott and his companions frozen to death in their hut. The discovery subsequently triggered a complete nervous breakdown. 

So, that's the current state of play on the local campaign, which now slogs on towards December. Why do I bother to pile into things all the time? I really don't know, sorry. Maybe because somebody has to. One day I shall probably stop caring. 

But not, I think, quite yet.

Next week: Another fine guest will be ensconced on the Pink Sofa, primed and ready to share their writing experience. Don't miss it.