Iona Street (no, really...)

And not for the first time (or indeed a second time) or indeed a [Stop; that's enough. Ed] I chummed royalty to see someone's making an exhibition of themselves.

After perusing the photos and scrumping apples, I persuaded the chauffeur to detour past an example of another celebrated local 'artist'.

Done rather hurriedly due to an impending storm, we then fled for cover and I was duly returned to the ever increasing mountain of inbound mail to deal with.

White paint on black bin; undated;  and now home to some old bean cans, a couple of empty wine bottles, a couple of half eaten ready meals and some apple cores.

**Some or all or none of the above may or may not be entirely fictitious.