The Market comes to town.

Davie the painter shows up on the doorstep at seven. ' Morning Pal. Braw day' he says cheerfully. Davie is five feet tall, wears threabare blue overalls, talks to himself in an animated way (interspersed with bouts of laughter) and speaks with a Fife accent that you could cut with a blunt knife. He sports a plethora of faded tattoos which must have been acquired in the Merchant Navy.  Angus stays in town to open up while 'The Font' oversees the last of the building works on the coast. Today Davie will Farrow and Ball the downstairs shower room before repainting the ceiling in the 'snug'. Davie is a heavy smoker. Every so often he stops and wanders onto the pavement outside for a ' wee break'. A  small pile of cigarette stubs by the lamp post marks this part of his routine. Davie has brought his own dust sheets which makes life easier. He also informs me that he'll be finished by four.

Town is busy. The last few days of freedom for the local children before school starts again. The beach still covered with yesterdays sand castles. It is also Ferragosto in Italy which may explain the scores of Milanese cars parked down by the Golf Museum.

The Market is here . This is a tradition that dates back to medieval days. It used to be an occasion for farmers to hire new workers and sell the early harvest. Now it sees the arrival of fairground rides and 'attractions'. Four year olds love it. Presbyterian townsfolk and other worldly academics frown on the noise and vulgarity.

Not all the local shopkeepers are happy the markets is in town. There's no parking, traffic is diverted and footfall at some of the shops is down 40%. Who wants to buy a loaf and go on the dodgems ?

A sign on a pub catches my eye. Scottish humour at its finest.

I've been invited to one of these. Had to look the word up to see what it means. Time to gratefully decline :https://devonzuegel.com/post/the-unconference-toolbox

This is so NY :https://theoldyew.com/