It's a wet afternoon as my husband sets out in the face of a soaking to tidy and trim up the village. Sometimes you just have to lever yourself off the sofa and face the task in hand.
I was reminded of a job we did earlier in the summer (At the edges) . As I worked on the front lawn I got an interesting response from the passers by. Staffies (the dog of choice of our neighbourhood) strained past me and stopped to sniff. German Shepherds lugged their owners along opposite. Mothers with buggies made for the shops. Teenagers in hoods, intent on their music stared straight ahead into cyberspace. Some pensioners stopped for a natter inches from my head. (I am happy to say I have forgotten the details). As far as most were concerned, I was invisible.
Working at ground level you notice window-cleaners; men with satellite disks to instal; builders and decorators; electricians; people putting in loft extensions; and the postie, picking up his heavy sack from the depositary on the corner, ready to walk the length of the avenue. Service industries. Ponder that a while.
No comments:
Post a Comment