Our corner of Trelawnyd seems a bit busier than on late. Three men, including the ubiquitous Islwyn are working of the Church Gates.
“They’re fixing the hinges” Mrs Trellis informed me as she and Blue trotted down the lane.
And by the look of the ladder, one of them is giving the Lytchgate a spruce up.
Sailor John is walking around my old field photographing wild flowers.
Mrs X rang me up and asked if I could vouch for her again regarding her shotgun licence.
I’ve bought some cheap solar lights and have lined the back garden path with them in readiness for Saturday night. Mr Poznân thinks that they are an excellent idea for stopping accidents
He also told me my gate needed a lick of paint.
The yappy dogs are still at it next door.
I’m playing radio 2 a bit louder than I should to compensate.
Depeche Mode Everything Counts