The gestation period has nearly ended as we are delivered a newly improved hazardous waste site. Nine months of stirring, shovelling, sucking and dumping is drawing to a close as the Autumn winds begin to cover the area with a carpet of leaves.
For the last couple of weeks there has been the sense of milking it out a bit. Only two Heyrmans remain and the activity on the site has been fairly staccato, though sometimes an early start has been noted.
Napoleon and Willy in the dark
All of a sudden the other day Napoleon decided to march out of the site with his companion behind him.
Where were they going?
The answer was making an even greater mess than before down the canal track and John’s Lane. I’m sure peple walking their woofers will appreciate it.
The conquest of Napoleon
The new causeway path has also had a smooth makeover
The long-bow
So it won’t be long now before the Solvay circus finally packs up and leaves the lagoon, leaving all the white phosphorus that Albright and Wilson and Rhodia left behind them. I wonder if they told their shareholders about the environmental liabilities that they took on when picking up the poison chalice of the French company?
And now, the end is here
And so I face the final curtain
My friend, I’ll say it clear
I’ll state my case, of which I’m certain
I’ve lived a life that’s full
I travelled each and ev’ry highway
And more, much more than this, I did it Solvay
Regrets, I’ve had a few
But then again, too few to mention
I did what I had to do and saw it through without exemption
I planned each charted course, each careful step along the byway
And more, much more than this, I screwed you Solvay
They still don’t like it up em
Yes, there were times, I’m sure you knew
When I bit off more than I could chew
But through it all, when there was doubt
I ate it up and spit it out
I faced it all and I stood tall and did it my way
I’ve loved, I’ve laughed and cried
I’ve had my fill, my share of losing
And now, as tears subside, I find it all so amusing
To think I did all that
And may I say, not in “The Rho-dia way”,
“Oh, no, oh, no, not me, I did it Solvay”
For what is a man, what has he got?
If not himself, then he has naught
To say the things he truly feels and not the words of one who kneels
Albright and Wilson- ROT IN HELL
The record shows I took the blows and beat you Solvay!
Yes, it was my way
