13°C, grey.
Phone rings in the middle of the day- no-one I know & it’s a bank holiday:
“Are you the man of the house?
Me: say again.
Are you the man of the house?
Me: What does that mean?”
To this, she hung up. Man of the house? – I thought that phrase/concept died out in the 1970s. Still scratching my head.
I helped this little chap cross the road today.
Spirit of Turpentine 