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This sign’s next to the intriguingly named Slaymaker Lane, just outside Oakworth. The Lane is a place of childhood dares, myths and folklore. Pleasant in the daytime, at night the high stone walls and the thick curtain of trees make it darker than normal, even on a full moon. It’s a place where your footsteps quicken, even if you don’t know about the resident ghost of a horse and rider.
Not to take anything away from Mr Swaine’s undoubted catching skills, but there were three fresh molehills in the opposite corner of that field.
Ten-Inch Wheels 
>Look – it was only three. Let's not make a mountain out of them……..
>Stick seaside windmills in them, the vibrations will send the bugger(s) away.
>Roald Dahl used to swear by burying bottles up to their necks. Kept cats away, too.
>Can you give us weekly updates? We don't want the Slaymaker Lane 3 becoming The Slaymaker Lane 4.
>John, I was there on a fleeting visit – I suppose I could ring up Mick Swaine and ask?