These much ignored pieces of rural and urban furniture finally have a website of their own.
This is not the site to visit for technical information pertaining to telegraph poles. You'll find nothing about 10KVa transformers, digital telephone networking or even so much as a single volt.
This is a website celebrating the glorious everyday mundanitude of these simple silent sentinels the world over.
|from the simple...||through the interesting...||to the hieroglyphics||and the alluring|
|click the thumbnails above to view the gallerys.||more poles...|
We don't care what the wires contain either. They all carry electricity in some way be it the sparky stuff which boils your kettle, or the thinner stuff with your voice in it when you're on the phone.
Da-da! I think that's how you spell it. Mission accomplished; fait accomplis; job done. The head of my pet telegraph pole has now been restored.
The arms dismantled, sanded, polished and then oiled. The metalwork sanded and rubbed and re-painted and a set of new insulators located. And doesn't it look splendid. (Ok, please try to ignore that our porch needs a lick of paint)
Pole barn - becomes telegraph pole barn
I pondered for ages where now to keep it. My long-suffering wife even indicated there was an outside chance she mightn't go completely bonkers if she came home to find it fixed up in the office. But I remember how much the wood stank once it got warm and thought better. Then another da-da! moment - my large 3 bay barn out in the field is a (telegraph) pole barn. The obvious place for it.
More on my barn in a future episode dear reader, and some of the other uses to which I put retired telegraph poles around here.
By the way, Jake of jajainsulators.pwp.blueyonder.co.uk/ wrote and told me that the unusual layout of this particular arms wood is to avoid the fouling of trees and other objects within the hedge line.
I've almost finished my other "arms wood" project too. That's just a single arm with four insulators - two brown and two white. Another serendipitous hedgerow find that one. Hedgerow beachcombing is not quite so well known, and even less practised than sandy beachcombing, and whilst you do still find the odd useful item and plenty of old wood, you can end up with a lot of empty lucozade bottles too.
Other restoration projects in hand : my "Welcome to Cerrigydrudion" road sign, and a 20+ ft length of rope. Coming to a telegraph pole website near you - soon. You'll just have to be patient.
Firstly, our Honorary Technical Advisor Keith S**** H.T.A. T.P.A.S. (pictured left, yesterday), has written in answer to Paul's request for information a good few posts ago.
Have just seen Paul's heart rending message,he is obviously worried that his poles may fall over. Do not fret my dear chap, properly pressure creosoted poles will last up to 100 years, yes 100 years before they fall down.Trust this alleviates your anxiety.
Keith S.(Honourary Technical Advisor,T.P.A.S)
He's also written again to correct this website on some potential inaccuracies - well, that's what Honorary Technical Advisors are for after all. In my Hieroglyphics gallery I make mention of "Heavy" poles. Apparently, no so thing; they are light, medium or Stout as indicated by the "cutting in (gouging). Last gouged figures on a pole indicates its year of processing. "Mind you", he says, "the stouts would be pretty heavy".
Finally, and it was never my intention to collect telegraph pole insulators or indeed photos of them. But that is what seems to be happening. And Ray Thorp - ex GPO / Post Office Telephones / British Telecom employee of 42 years sent me some photos of his eclectic potting-shed based collection. Among his ageing exhibits are an ex-Southern Railway insulator made of pitch-fibre. And the central one pictured right dates back to the National Telephone Co. and while porcelain on the inside is made of enamelled tin on the outside - like a camping mug.
Stay tuned listeners... All photos gratefully received - ceramics, pole of the month contenders, bizarre stuff.
Many people, my wife included, upon being gifted a parcel like that at left, might be inclined to think "what the hell did I do to deserve this?" But to a severe sufferer of Anoraksia Nervosa, like myself, such a receipt is a delight. It's arrival preceded also by the entertainment watching our flimsy postman struggle first to lift it out of his van, and then to reach over our gate to wedge it into my letter bin.
I must confess that these have actually been through a scrub in the kitchen sink before being put back in the box for this photo. One of them - the darkened one in the photo - is an old L.M.S. (London, Midland & Scottish) insulator. It's seen some severe high-voltage arcing in it's working life by the look of it.
Very many thanks to Mark Taylor from Sutton Coldfield who answered my appeal for ceramics. A cheque to cover the postage is on its way, along with some carefully chosen pure thoughts and our good wishes.
As you can see, I've been very busy in my shed of late. Braving the cold, the drizzle and the incredible drafts that howl through the gaps in my jerry-self-built workshop.
This week I have been mostly brushing, filing, sand-papering and painting. Not to mention some arms-wood planing. But first, the photo above gives you, dear reader, a tantalising preview of two other restoration projects that I have in-hand...