And this is just such a sweet photo. Can you imagine Grandson ever having hairy arms like Son? I used to think this when Son was that size - how can a tiny scrap ever grow up to be a big hairy man like Mr Life? (Though actually SIL is not particularly hirsute, so possibly Grandson may take after him.)
Anyway, to prove that I occasionally do other things, here's a fine picture of a traffic cone (why did I make this the main feature of the photo?) in the village of Gifford, where I went for lunch with some teaching chums earlier in the week.
I'm always vaguely looking for somewhere rural but convenient to retire to... oh, yes, I am retired now, but you know what I mean. Somewhere to spend my twilight years. How about this? The garden's nice. A lot of work has gone into that stripy lawn.
Mind you, we then passed this house, which I have to say I prefer. I'm sure I could improve the garden.
This is all displacement activity. I'm really in the middle of (no, at the beginning of) cleaning the house prior to going to the supermarket. Off I go.