A scaffold of workmen, sowing the seeds of love and smile please

1. Every morning recently when I arrive at work on North Street there is a scaffold of workman milling about in high-visibility vests and hard hats and steel-toed boots. They are all smiley and manly, grinning and spitting and smoking and slapping each other on the back and exchanging tales of last night's conquests and fortunes. I sometimes linger on the street as if I were waiting for someone just so I can soak up the testosterone and tobacco filled air. It's a great start to the day.

2. There is a song which I have been trying to loose from inside my head ever since I was away on holiday and found myself watching bits of daytime TV. "Sowing the seeds of love..." by Tears For Fears. I think it's used for a Pimms advertisement. Every once in a while I realise that I've been singing the chorus over and over in my head. And then I find it hard to stop. I bought the album that song came from originally in the 1980's and loved it then. It has something irresistible about it. I got a text from Sean this evening which was good because I have been missing him. He said "Hope things are still 'special' for you..." and they are. I love the idea of sprinkling seeds of love about with the hope that something special will grow from them. When I was younger I believed that my friends and I could make the world a better place and that humanity could achieve an enlightened sense of unity. Time could have dulled that vision but on the whole I'd say I still look forward to accomplishing that mission.

3. I met up with my lovely friend Mr G after work tonight. We hadn't seen each other for a while and certainly hadn't had time to sit around and chat about nothing and everything. We strolled down Coney Street to the City Screen Bar and sat out on the boardwalk and watched and commented on the pretty young men passing by and the rowers. I had a beer and we talked about silly and important nothings and feelings. Every once in a while we would look over at each other and his green eyes would sparkle and I felt appreciated and loved. Having a friend that you can say anything to is pretty valuable. I think I could say anything to Mr G and if it offended him I think he would give me a look and I'd know immediately. When we left each other at St Helen's Square, we hugged and he said "Smile please" and just for a moment I couldn't. A wave of melancholy passed over me and I wanted to cry. It was a complicated moment of lots of different feelings. I walked off towards the Minster and he went off toward Lendal Bridge, I don't think either of us turned around to take another look. It was as kind as it could possibly be. I regained my heart's composure and ambled homeward.