Summer Schools?

Ros cut and shaped my hair today. It surely needed it having been a mess for far too long. Basil came too. The hairdressers always make him welcome.

I popped in to see Aziz. His favourite maternal uncle died yesterday from Covid. Mohsine had sent a photo of him in his funeral shroud taken just before his funeral in Tetouan today. His family had flown from the Netherlands and had been very impressed by the care and treatment he had received in his last days.

I decided to have a latte at Café Nero which has re-opened. I don't think the drains have been entirely cleaned out. I could still smell them outside Boots next door. While sitting there, I took this double exposure of all these young people parading through the marketplace. I couldn't tell whether they were potential uni students or participants in summer schools.

On the way home I parked outside the sales office of the Persimmon development at the edge of Shepshed before walking Basil round the perimeter of the estate (see extra). My observations led me to conclude that the poor reputation of Persimmon as the worst builder in Britain is entirely deserved. All the two and three bedroom houses have been sold. The four bedroom houses have been allocated land in a wedge nearer to the boundary away from the motorway and closer to the so-called countryside strip.

Before building began, the company had to build a terrace on which the houses could be built because the land lies on a flood plain. The area between the housing and the motorway in marked by ditches of water, most of which are entirely blocked with vegetation. I could go on...