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.
What sort of body is it that doesn't have a mission statement?
August and elite a society we may be, but visitors to this site might be confused by our lack of this vital corporate expression of intent. Anyway, we couldn't think up one for ourselves so we trusted in an online Mission Statement Generator at http://www.bit.ly/mstatement. We want no longer...
"Our objective is to inspire accountable synergies and transition back-end channels with paradigm shift for the benefit of our stakeholders and other local partnerships"
I think that about covers it.
A little light to medium spannering, some sawing and a modicum of mild to serious swear words and the "arms wood" of my telegraph pole restoration project lay in its constituent parts upon my workbench.
According to the society Honorary Technical Advisor, Keith S*****, the wood for the arms is an African hardwood called Keruing.
If you've got any of these things floating around your garden, shed, garden shed or that drawer in your kitchen where you keep all the junk and which never opens properly - then I'd be very interested to hear from you. They are GPO standard ceramic terminators and they're slowly disappearing from the wild.
My restoration project has stalled slightly because I have two of these insulators in a very poor condition. They have clearly broken in the past and some long-forgotten GPO engineer has glued them back together - araldite probably or perhaps a half-chewed Werther's Original.
Anyway, I can't get them off the retaining bolts and so am seeking replacements. There are some spare ones sitting on a disused pole not half a mile from my house. But alas they're just out of my reach.
* * * STOP PRESS * * *
I now require 3 insulators. My wife broke one after I had left them in the sink to soak along with the breakfast dishes. I have to wonder if she's as 100% committed to this as I am - she wasn't even sobbing uncontrollably when she told me!
* 10 mins max.
The entire administration department of the Telegraph Pole Appreciation Society recently undertook a sojourn to the Peoples' Republic of Ireland.
Our mission was primarily one of pantomime observance, but we never miss an opportunity to gaze in wonder at Johnny Foreigner's public infrastructure. And there were many telegraphpolic marvels to behold I can (and will) tell you. Not least this amazing structure, made entirely out of telegraph poles spotted on a roundabout in Letterkenny, Co. Donegal.
Pleasing to the eye it might be, but as a children's fairground ride it fails miserably - the little mites just get splinters all over their backsides, and however much you push it, the damn thing just refuses to spin.
Clearly some thinking through required next time.