HEALTH & SAFETY & THE END OF THE WORLD

Next door's builder arriving with some more materials, and no he hadn't removed the warning flags, because there weren't any. I don't think he's got any professional qualifications or one of those trade check thingies.

He caught B at the front door a few weeks ago and told him that we'd be bound to notice the gutters running red (they weren't) because Nibiru (Planet X) had passed. He stated that all the houses on the Headland are up for sale or rent because the owners are in on it, and are preparing to move to higher ground to escape the catastrophe. (I wonder what they're planning to do with their house sale proceeds and rents after the rest of the world is flooded or whatever...) Anyway, B - who is no mean conspiracy theorist himself - came in shaking his head and pronouncing on the craziness of M, the builder and what a lot of tosh it all was, at which I pointed out that that's how I feel about all conspiracy theories and those who propound them. I don't think my point was taken.

After seeing this lovely sunshine I went out and worked in the front garden for a couple of hours, fighting off a giant worm (extra) and other beasties and watching the usual shenanigans in the road: a 'domestic' with lots of shouting and speeding-off cars; Mr Next-Door coming to inspect the building work accompanied by a different lady from the partner and mother of his children that he moved out with a few months ago after their kitchen ceiling collapsed; the police and a couple of (I think) social workers turning up and knocking at another door further down. It can be pretty lively in this little square, but meanwhile I just try to look like a harmless grey-haired lady pottering about in her garden. Miss Marple got away with it for years.