Hair is Big This Year and Life in the 'Burbs: No Higher Than the Spire

The shaved sides, curly on top look is big here. This Council Worker seems to have grown a couple of Dreadlock handles as well. It is a guy, btw.

It seems on closer inspection that the handles are part of the front bars of the mowing tractor. Phew..

Another good Council service is the provision of study compost bins, which are collected on Bin Day, along with the Recycling bin.

Ours is the part of the terrace on the right of the photo. Hidden by the shubbery is the third house of the terrace. The new white van belongs to the couple there: it's for their road bikes when they head off for cycle meets where they ride for hundreds of miles. Literally.

George, our landlord's dad, came to fix the meter-box door yesterday. He was a Game-Keeper's son and grew up in the Village near the Big House where His Lordship lived. The Lord came to a sticky end when he was 50, slipping on the steps of the marble Mausoleum when paying his respects to his ancestors. O, the perils of Victorian architecture. George has a satisfying number of random tattoos and dubious teeth. We have a lot in common ( except the tatts). He likes to go caravanning with his wife.

I think the best description of the housing clusters is a "Close", though each cluster is called only by its name....ours is Matley. There are usually a few branches, and the houses are numbered and the postcodes are unique to each cluster. Because it's such a maze I have resolved to take a compass when I go walking. The trees are high and thick, and there is no view of highrises to get a bearing from. It is a Cathedral city, and nothing is allowed to be built higher than the spire.