The more I get to know my builders, the more impressed I am with their abilities, (and the more guilty I feel regarding my initial prejudiced impressions -- gleaned from many years on English building sites).
I've learned that one of them is also known as the best tree surgeon in the district, and has a great balance of art and craft, another has management skills and quietly organises the others without a ripple, as well as acting as interpreter for me -- and all of them work with a passion for beauty which I respect and share.
The other week, one of them was shovelling debris, when he disturbed a very large centipede -- one of the nasty sort which can be very aggressive when upset. Although well armed for its destruction, instead he scooped up the offending insect with the shovel, and sent it down the terraces. Had that been me - then - I would have definitely killed it in a panic.
When a similar beast, about seven inches long emerged from beneath the sofa a few nights back, it enjoyed the benefit of my builder's good example. I gently scooped it up, with a very long-handled shovel, and dropped it over the balcony.
I've come to think that our propensity for killing things we are afraid of says a great deal about how we see the world, and how fundamentally secure we feel in it. For that reason, I'll not consider myself a truly balanced individual until my neurotic urge to kill that which I fear has completely disappeared.
Now I'm off to give the kittens a lecture on Peace and Conflict with respect to Mice.