I've got a thing about lettering, particularly when it crops up in unexpected places. You will always find stuff like this in the remoter reaches of scrapyards, but sometimes they can be a joyful surprise. Like when you trip over an old plough left in a spinney between fields, and when you've finished having a good swear you discover the maker's name embossed on a crossbar shouting back at you, albeit somewhat rustily. This Simms Thingy is still relatively unscathed, but the briars are starting to twist and turn, slowly but inexorably perpetrating a cover-up job.
Michael Wolff's musical musings part 2.
11 hours ago