Three down, five to go...

.. We've had a few 'challenges' on the building front.
Some nice men are here putting them all right.

I usually peruse the estate (for ladybirds and the like) for a few minutes each day.

I hadn't used to pay particular attention to my attire for this small perambulation. A warm outer covering and whatever (or whose ever) shoes were by the back door would suffice.
(I was mildly aware, from reflections in the back door, that I probably made a comical sight. The shoes of Himself are somewhat roomier than my own. And, let's face it, who bothers to lace up footwear anyway?).

I have paid a little more attention to the finer detail since discovering a fine (and clear. SO clear!) image of myself on google earth, camera at face, rear sticking out of a tree, with pyjama bottoms just skimming the shoes of Charlie Chaplin, underneath the overlarge gardening coat favoured by Himself when gathering up the leaves.
These days I sometimes comb my hair before venturing out.

Today though, tea and coffee duties call. The nice men mending our house are thirsty.
I didn't want to alarm them.
I snapped this through the window.