Grumbling, me?

I saw this man early today after I dropped off a letter complaining about the new block they wish to build next door.  He was sitting glaring at me, his friend hiding under the tree, and appeared less than keen to see me.  I suppose at that time of the day it is usually mums and kids on their way to school, or returned from there ans that is why he is feared.  The minute I moved he was off.
Next door lies an old hut.  It was built as a memorial to an individual of some repute after the war and now it appear sit has asbestos within and must come down.  A developer has offered a three story building with four flats, car parking space on ground floor, windows that looks into other peoples windows just to line his pockets and I and others do not like it.  This governments approach favours such men, and we have a similar council so I do not hold out much hope here.  I wrote and complained and a very slight adjustment has been offered, so I complain again but something tells me, from listening to others, that this will go through anyway even if totally wrong.  

In spite of not eating properly, feeling rough, and unloved I returned to fill an empty space in the museum this afternoon where I dealt with hundreds of attractive young mums asking about the kids stuff over the next few weeks.  The mums are somewhat miffed that there are seven weeks of holidays ahead, the kids are delighted.  I booked one or two in for dozens of things, the kids often not getting a choice, and the mums looking to the cafe where they can hide from them for a while.
All good fun and the events begin next week.  I am glad I only do one day, well two at the moment.
Thirty kids at one go, many mums also, thankfully I just welcome them in, check the list and dump them on the others.  I m completely washed out, too tired to watch the first of the football.  Tsk!


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