Footsore and sweaty, I walked past some lovely houses. Of course.
I don't think they had back gardens, because many people were out in the front.
All saying hello and acting as if a blistered women with the shakes and a wild-eyed look was completely normal of a Sunday lunchtime.
I want to live in one of these.
Someone I know and love can live in the one next door.
Form an orderly queue please.
The second pic is for Sarge, who is obviously a Wesley fan
