Pleasantness

The poor little demodex folliculorum mite, going merrily about his business, as he has done for millennia - how could anyone find this tiny creature repulsive? Thanks to Banger Booth for the amusing imagined dialogue between Mr and Miss Demodex - left in the comments after my last post. The action is happening on my face around the eyelashes. For those who didn't read this literary masterpiece, crafted in South Yorkshire dialect, here's just a sample:-

YP Demodex 1: Oh shut it, tha' gret lump... Fancy a bit o' 'ow's thee father...?

YP Demodex 2: Aye, go on then- can we do it some weir a bit moor exotic and not just on this mester's eyelash agean?
YP Demodex 1: Tha's a bit o'n a kinky gyet thee, aren't tha?
YP Demodex 2: Am not, tha' is though!

Quite likely the author - exiled to Thailand by English education authorities - had been to see his dealer before tapping away at his stained and battered Bangkok keyboard!

Anyway, recognising the disgust, nay outrage that my helpful information about demodex folliculorum unintentionally ignited, I felt I should compensate with some pleasantness. Two more pictures from my rambles around Sheffield's "Golden Frame". They were taken on Tuesday afternoon. Cue "Last of The Summer Wine" theme tune.

Above - Woodthorpe Hall with snowdrops. Below - teasels on Holmesfield Common looking northwards to Sheffield.