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Welcome to this Researcher's Journal. If you'd like to comment on anything they have written here, just click the relevant 'Discuss this Entry' button. Where I Live
(Mar 7, 2005)
I have to say the area where I live is best described as ‘colourful’ and others would say “Bloody rough’.
I would describe the area where I live as ‘Bloody rough.’ Put it this way, it’s not the place to pause and ask for directions, just keep walking and get lost if I were you.
Round here we have a fine collection of boarded up houses, complete with rusting cars and a few runaway Sainsbury’s trolleys. I saw one hiding in the hedge this morning, but I’m no fool and I dodged it smartish.
Always Sainsbury’s trolleys, not Tesco’s. Can’t work that one out.
I can tell you when you go walking round our streets, don’t go with your head in the clouds, otherwise you walk in dog-poo.
Yeah thou dost. Verily.
So taking the usual precautions, woolly hat, muffler, and bag-lady coat, to look as threatening as is possible at five foot, one inch, I strode forth.
As usual, admired the collection of dustbins, stacked against the gates, and wondered if the plastic bags blowing in the wind would ever find a home.
However, came across one house in this, er, colourful’ street that looks like it is going against the trend. Every damn surface that could be painted was.
White, sparkling white.
Fence, windows, gate, steps, the whole caboodle.
No bags of rubbish, no overfull dustbins. Furthermore, every window sported frilly curtains, the sort a friend of mine memorably described as ‘French tart’s knickers.’
I bet she washes them (the curtains you dipsticks) every week as well. Has to be a female, only them that hangs up things like that. And before anyone even thinks it, I have blinds, thank you.
I have yet to meet the street’s local witch doctor lady, who sports a black hat with ‘things’ hanging from it, if you meet her just keep walking, safer that way.
Oh yes, and bypass the kiddies, no patting them on the head, they might dust you over before you take a trip up to Casualty.
I just snarl at them, a slight curve of the lip and they get the message, as they shuffle closer together, all the better to keep their teenage secrets, secret.
Thank God for that, at least. Yep.
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(9 replies,
Latest reply: Mar 13, 2005)
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