Hade Edge sits about as high as villages go round here, and it were cold for September up there, which the notebook records without surprise because it always is. Right trainer, white, on the roadside verge. Laces gone. Poor condition — the sole were split right across the ball, the sort of split a trainer doesn't come back from. Been out a fair while by the look of the canvas, though I'll not put a number on it.
Now, the verge at Hade Edge is not far off where the red boot were in September 2022 — number 229, the child's boot, one I still come back to in my mind occasionally — and I'll admit in this report what the notebook admits on the page: I looked twice at that spot on the way past. There were nowt there. There's been nowt there every time since. I don't go up to Hade Edge looking for the past, but I'd be lying if I said the past doesn't sit on that verge a bit, and this register doesn't lie.
The trainer itself were a plain entry, honestly recorded: photographed, decent results, left as found. Sandwiches in the car after with the heater on — corned beef, which were a change from the usual, and the notebook rates the change favourably. Our Linda had said I were in a rut with the cheese and pickle. I maintain it's not a rut if you'd choose it fresh every time, but the corned beef were good and I said so when I got home, and that's the last the register has to say about September.
Written up August 2026, from the notebook.