There’s an old lady living next door on the right. J says she ever so sweet if slightly batty. She just knocked at the door. She told me that I can use her garden waste bin for the leaves around our garage. I said Thank you but that it was a bit windy right now so I’d wait for a calmer day. She told me that she’d just done all hers because leaves in the wind are very annoying. I said yes, they can be and she replied there was still a lot of space in her bin for my leaves. She was quite insistent about all these leaves. Our garage sits 20 feet back from hers and the leaves on question are on our side. While she’s telling me all this, she is half turned toward the leaves down the side of the garage and I can tell that inside herself she’s screaming Can’t you clear your f*cking leaves they are really p*ssing me off you young people don’t know you’re born you lucky b*stards it wasn’t like this in the war don’tcha know oh no then if you saw a leaf you’d be grateful and it’d keep you entertained for days and now you’ve got all these you just let them blow around needlessly and irritate us old folk who deserve a bit of respect!. She enquired after my injuries by indicating my arm. I assured her that it was a tattoo and I didn’t mind it being there. She replied that it looked like I’d fallen off a bike and pulled my skin off (so she’s half blind too then…) and she wandered back. Over her shoulder she reminded me about the space at the top of the bin.
I think I’ll pass on clearing the leaves …..