to the three corners
If people feel they have to smoke, and that they have to smoke very close to eating-premises, they could at least ensure that if they're going to be brightly-lit by the noon sun that there's a dark background behind them rather than a close-by white van.
After a disorganised morning what I hoped would be a nice entire morning trundling about only started seventy-five minutes before the usual start time of mosque lunches. No sooner had I left than the sun started burning away the protective mist, meaning that I was almost fully-exposed by the time I got to Straiton for the first unsuccessful stop. I was back in town fifteen minutes early, which gave me time to withdraw some cash, find out that other people were arriving at a quarter past and make a start on my food before others arrived. I couldn't join them in the pub afterwards as I'd have been fried pink within minutes but completed another three unsuccessful shop-premise-visits before it came to be time to come home again to collect Edgar, who was already screeching when I arrived (to be told, as always, that it had "only just started a couple of minutes ago when we started feeding the others") and who started screeching again half-way through his tea (after immediately cheering-up when he got to play with a hedge on the way back from nursery) until Nicky came home. He had another peepless night from half-seven last night until half-six this morning, was described as generally quite happy by the nursery staff and appeared to be quite happy for most of the evening, so is expected to wake up, stand up and wail for a bit sometime around half-two, just for the variety.