And how quickly days speed by. And while we are at it - how quickly the nights draw in. Last night I closed the blinds at half past seven. Helped of course by the fact, contrary to everywhere else in the country it seems, that we are having cloudy skies and very heavy downpours (have just looked out of the window and the sun has momentarily come out and there are a couple of orange tips fluttering around the antirrhinums.)
Opposite my bungalow is a building plot kept by the man who built the estate - presumably to build somewhere for himself sometime in the future. Quite often there is a black cat who sits there on the edge of the long grass coming in and out of it - on the constant lookout - as cats usually are. All around us are wood pigeons and the two are not friendly with one another. This morning as I walked down my drive with Priscilla to meet my taxi for the hairdresser, I noticed that the road outside my bungalow is littered with pigeon feathers. Oh dear. Has one of the pigeons come to a sad end? And oh dear -why can't I feel sad?
Do the Powers that be in your area appear to conspire against you? Friday is Market Day here today and we are one of the places where there is a thriving market with a variety of stalls = two really good greengrocers with excellent quality fruit and veg; a really good cheese counter with cheese from all over Europe, a free range egg stall, a nursery stand selling all kinds of garden plants and giving really good planting advice, a fish stand with fresh Whitby fish, a tool stall with everything from tiny nails to big long nails and the right size hammers to knock them in. In addition to that it is also Cattle Market Day and the Cattle market is right in the middle of the town and does a thriving trade in the buying and selling of calves and larger cattle.
We get a lot of tourist trade here in Summer, much of it passing through into Wensleydale and stopping off here in Leyburn and dropping off their busloads of tourists here for a coffee on their way to the Wensleydale Creamery to tour the Cheese Factory. On every day but Friday - market day - the tourist busses can park up in the Auction Mart but not today of course. Imagine the scene. What do the powers that be choose to do when they want to do some kind of repair to the kerb or a street light or whatever? Which day of the week do they choose? A ni ce quiet Monday when there is nobody much about apart from tourists sitting in cafes around the market place enjoying their coffee whilst their busses are parked up at the auction mart? Of course not. They choose a Friday of course! They put up their traffic lights nice and early so that this are choked from the word go.
Just typing this has tired me out so can't imagine what it has done to anybody driving a bus through here. I am off to make a cuppa.