Spectating

Life is nothing if not interesting here in the precincts of the Dower House.

Work is going on apace gutting another part of the old Royal Infirmary, while in the very place where three of my children came into the world, affordable housing is going up at break neck speed on top of a newly built underground car park.

So it's all hands on deck, and there are men in yellow jackets working like ants everywhere, sporting hard hats in different colours, white, yellow and blue. I'm not sure if the colour is random, chosen personally to go with the colour of their eyes, or status and occupation driven.

These three men having a 'hing' over the balcony were in prime position to survey the scene of gardeners transforming a patch of ground at the side of the house which has lain weedy and unloved all the time we have been here, into a 'lawn' of verdant greenness. ( I use the word 'lawn' in its loosest form: hopefully it might just become as good as the Meadows grass; but I 'hae me doots', seeing as it is completely the wrong time to sow grass seed)

There's something hypnotic about watching other people work as these three braw lads can testify. The middle one had me clocked despite the several hundred yards between us, and I like to think the raised hand just visible, is a wave rather than a naughty sign.

Since the blip about the disgrace of my unfinished Shetland jersey brought such excellent results via BB, I'm wondering if there is any cycling aficionado out there amongst you who could reset and calibrate my Cats Eye Strada mileometer which had to get a new battery last week.
I have lost the instructions and I fear that the 18 miles recorded for my post dawn cycle run this morning while gratifying, is probably an exaggeration. I think the wheel calibration number may be wrong.

Oh, here comes someone else to watch: the man on the mower, cutting the grass
What fun!