Nothing

on the door-step of number 51.


       The title of the challenge got me thinking about the whys and wherefores of door-steps. I grew up on a village high street in one of it's oldest houses. We had a modest door-step that was shallow, (only an inch or two deep) and about the width of the front door and extending about two-feet into the pavement (sidewalk). I think all of the old houses whose front doors opened directly onto the street had door steps like this and some had metal boot scrapers attached. I mused the reason for this was because of the muddy/dusty state of roads before the invention of pneumatic tyres necessitated smooth tar-Macadamed road surfaces . . . I remember some housewives would wash their doorsteps scrupulously some going so far as blanching, or whitening, them,.

       We had a very good milkman, George, who would leave the milk at the back kitchen door for us. Lord Rayleigh's Dairies.

       That caused a little nostalgia and verbal rambling. Thanks to Nickimags for hosting this month.

       Nice fluffy fair weather clouds today. Car serviced. Mail collected. Another book arrived: Eva Figes' Tales of Innocence and Experience: an exploration.

 . . . and on the late afternoon walk we observed two mice, two snakes, and a muskrat . . .