Progress

The other day I spent a little while carrying number 8 grandaughter Jessica around, pointing things out to her. As I was showing her my CD collection, it occurred to me how obsolete much of what I told her will be when she reaches 17 - never mind 57.

I went for a brisk walk today, not encumbered by a heavy camera bag. But I did have my iPhone and so was able to have the icy woman on the MapMyRun app tell me that my pace was "nine min utes and fif teen sec onds per kill o me ter" as a perfectly timed voice-over during the guitar introduction to this Velvet Revolver song and then moments later for a text to arrive.

I also discovered what sheer terror looks like on a person's face, as they walk around a sharp, tree-lined corner in the path to encounter me singing along to a 1960s song about customer service and the tribulations of paid work.

A few moments later I witnessed an example of modern manners. A woman walking her terrier, with one hand on the lead and the other clutching the customary small, bulging black plastic bag was greeted from thiry yards away by her friend. The terrier walker happily waved the hand holding the bag. I wondered how the friend felt about this.

The walk was also notable for lots of odd signs, which can be seen here. What, I wonder, is a "bouncy aid?"

And, so to the goldfinches. How did they survive before garden feeders full of thistle seeds?

Jessica has so much to discover. I hope she explains it all to me when she does.