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Monday, May 29, 2006

THINGS I SEE THROUGH MY FRONT WINDOW 

I was upstairs opening the curtains at the weekend when I saw one of the plethora of local cats look up at me from the street with an expression of guilt.

It had a beard.

I was reminded of that Susan Herbert painting of a cat as the Laughing Cavalier.

Either life had begun to imitate art or I had entered a living nightmare.

I didn't fancy the idea of going out to deadhead any of my bedding plants in case it had turned into Mr Bosch's Garden Of Earthly Delights out there.

Closer inspection proved that the cat was actually carrying a baby starling it had murdered in its mouth.

For more stuff about baby starlings, go here.

* * * * * * *

About eighteen months ago I wrote about a goth couple who used to hang around the parking bay opposite our house. I haven't linked to that post because I couldn't be bothered to find it and it was so badly written that it is a source of embarrassment.

Anyway, on Saturday night, at around 8.45, the starcrossed lovers turned up at the parking bay for the first time in ages. They spread out a tartan rug and the contents of a couple of carrier bags and sat down.

They had decided to have a picnic, at twilight, intermittent showers and low temperatures notwithstanding, in a parking bay on a Wimpey estate.

We may be living in the gutter but some of us are looking up at the stars, etc., etc.

Comments:
Betty, you remember the other day when you got it into your pretty little head to do some spring cleaning? Remember that dear? You said you would be away for several weeks, but in the end probably just wiped the top of the telly with your sleeve? Well, you didn't sniff a bit too hard on the Ajax while you doing all of that did you?

zunogt - a feeling of relief expressed by the inhabitants of North East Hampshire that they don't live in Kent.
 
Was it Craig Harris and Rosie Webster?
 
You know...like..we're not plastic...we're real goths. We like to spend the time in twilight.

We had blood milkshake in that bag. We shared the dead bird with that glorious cat. We dipped our fingers into the black feathers of life.
 
He heeeee.
 
I expect you have parking bays reserved for various occupations and professions, e.g. Staff Only, MD, Handicapped, NE Hampshiremen, etc.? Why not Picnic Area? That they were goths is immaterial. What a very forward-looking local authority you must have.
 
I hope you called the neighbourhood watch and got them moved along. That kind of thing can affect the property prices you know!
 
Vicus - the I'm giving up blogging/doing the spring cleaning/re-appearing a day later stuff was all carefully planned and scripted. I am fully in control and haven't sniffed Ajax since I used to hang around with those Pye Green hard kids when I was thirteen.

MJ - they weren't as good looking as Craig and Rersie.

two goths - I was going to ask if you wanted to have any of our leftover Chinese takeaway. You know how you always end up with too many noodles? Glad I didn't now. Eugh.

Molly - I wonder who those two goths really were? Where ARE they now, as David Jacobs used to say.

Interpreter - oh, it's not a leafy estate, so there are no sectioned off parking areas. Mind you, the woman from the upstairs flat next door has been putting up a variety of homemade signs asking people not to park in HER bay. They are usually ignored.

Actually, there is a reserved place for NE Hampshiremen, but it has been heavily booby trapped, mined and has loads of barbed wire around it, all put there by me.

Tom - our area hasn't gone upmarket enough to have a neighbourhood watch scheme yet, fortunately. Perhaps I should put copies of the Daily Mail through all the doors to remind people of Uncaring Britain, heh heh.
 
We don't get any goths round here mores the pity. I went to Redhill once and the place was crawling with them. I wonder if they can lend us some of theirs.
 
oh lordy, ms. utility room.
*blushing purple, but a nice purple*
since you're such a whiz at housecleaning, come over and have a go at my lawn...seeing as you have the time.
course you'll have to fix the mower. i broke it last week.
actually, never mind.
 
Billy - well, to be a goth around here is to stand out like a sore thumb. Any teenager who doesn't conform to the "box fresh from JJB Sports" look is likely to be beaten to a pulp. No wonder those two wanted to get away from it all.

First Nations - I'm such a whiz at virtual housecleaning because I'm rubbish at being a housewife in the real world. God, it's so boring and brain numbing!

As for mowing the lawn, that's a drag at the moment because the grass keeps growing really thickly due to the constant rain. Having a manual mower makes it really hard work and the blades keep jamming ...

...

*bored reader takes overdose of paracetemol*
 
So the cat had a beard. Was it a gay ginger Tom?
 
Wyndham, as it 'appens the cat is ginger, but I would hazard a guess that it is a bearded lady, sexuality unknown.
 
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