Our litterpicker rebels were at it again this month and scopped rubbish there and then in the borough. But isn't it nice to receive some recognition from the public when you are picking up rubbish. Janet was pleased to get a nice thank you from a passing by cyclist when she was clearing rubbish along the canal near Hanwell. The Egyptian geese nearby might have been thinking the same but we will never know. Gracie mille to all and hopefully you do get thank you on your litter picking missions

Let the season of head torches and work lights begin!

Tuesday, 22 September 2026, happened to coincide with the autumnal equinox. The day and night were equal, and the sun rose directly in the east and set directly in the west. Needless to say, it set very shortly after our group run began!

For the last two weeks, our Tuesday evening group managed to get away without switching on the head torches, perhaps thanks to the leafletting and signage tasks' nature, both of which took place on the streets. But tonight we were back in the William Hobbayne Centre courtyard, which isn't lit after dark. Thankfully, enough of us remembered about the torches to make our efforts effective.

Sue from the Hobbayne Charity directed us to the outdoor sections of the centre that we hadn't had time to tackle at our last session there in June. We cleared all the leaves, brambles and other weeds from the passages leading to the gates to Lower Boston Road and St Mark's Road. We also had time to speed-weed the area around the tool shed, which left all the outdoor spaces sorted out before the autumnal leaf drop.

Although the equinox marked the beginning of autumn, the weather and our immediate surroundings were sending us mixed signals about what season it actually was. Temperatures above 20 degrees made it feel as though it were still the middle of summer, while the dried Christmas tree we found in the yard brought wintry, festive vibes.

We had barely concluded that the tree would have to wait until January for the council’s next Christmas tree collection when hell broke loose. Suddenly, the GoodGymers launched an assault on the already-dead tree, chopping off its branches until only the main stem remained. Then the mob returned to their usual cheery demeanour. What could possibly have turned the GoodGymers into a gang of notorious Grinches? The prime suspect? Perhaps pub Christmas dinner advertisements appearing before we had even made it to Halloween?