Up in the night – ten past one – tea brewing – this is not unusual. No, I have no idea how I’ll get up in the morning – yes, the times matter – bin day tomorrow – the bin-persons (mostly men) will arrive early, clattering bins about – not recycling day tomorrow – oh, first green bin day and I didn’t put it out and it is full – you never know – I might be awake in time to – put it out now? Bit late, isn’t it? No one minds you being out there in your dressing gown and night-gear – ever since there was an out-and-out fashion for it – oh, some years ago now – but people took their kids to school still in their pyjamas – not the kids, the mothers – shows what a state fashion was in when your inner-wear is more exciting than your outer – no, I’m not talking about sex and low-slung bodices – though there will have been some of those, I bet – I’m talking about good, thick (ish) sturdy pyjamas and fluffy, often hooded, jackets (as it were) on top – dressing gowns.
Silly sausage of a fashion if you ask me.
Anyway, I wouldn’t be stared at by – night-prowlers – if I went out there – they’d be used to it – a fashion like that – shame to miss the first green bin day of the year – mine is full of prunings – but my neighbour has her huge hunk of her car in our driveway now – and would I get it down that small space she has left for me this time? She does try, but – big car – narrow driveway built for when cars were so – narrow – you’d be able to fit two cars up there in the old days – hers and mine – honest – there used to be a garage at the end of each side, a fence of sorts in the middle to separate the two properties – but we share the driveway now, and it is written in legal jargon, and at least you can get one car up there these days – and I don’t mind – and she wants to put my bins out week by week as a thank you to me – for not minding her taking over the drive with her car –
But I would rather take care of my own bins, thank you very much, and then I know what I’m doing.
I’m talking about diddy British cars here – they are bigger these days, but in the old days, they were plenty small. If this was the US, I imagine, cars of that age – huge winged things that you (we) used to see in films – would continually be scraped up against both sides of our driveway – wave, we can, to each other from our opposite kitchen windows – haven’t bothered trying to get a blind up there – she has one, and she pulls it shut – more often than not – otherwise we’d neither of us get our dinners made for practising our semaphore.
Ah! Tea! (Gulp.)
I had another neighbour once, who used to live over the road (along just a bit) – and he couldn’t sleep, either – he’d go for midnight rambles – not in his pyjamas, so far as I know – I’d never see him – but I’d see him the next day, perhaps, bundling up or down the road – “You can see straight in your kitchen on a night when the light’s on!”
I couldn’t be worrying about it. I caused some curtain-tracks to be put up, once, (asked someone), but that was as far as I got – well, I was pushed into getting curtain material, but I never really wanted it and so I never made it up – I’m going back years to when people used to make their own curtains, or cause them (ask someone) to be made.
But I’m getting off my beaten track here, though I often write in this way, jotting along to find out where I am, and therefore find somewhere I can start.
It’s the nuts and bolts I have always been interested in – of myself, and of the writing . . .
Sorry, this is as much as I can give of this – I did go to the front door, in my night-attire, my feet slipped into size 9 crocs (it’s the next day) – and I’d already put out one bin – the ordinary one – and –
I was stunned. It was gone.
She has taken my bin back in! I thought. (She is so keen not to have them put out until early on bin-day itself – well, what would you do? Sometimes they get here 7 a.m.! What sort of a council is that, that begins earlier than a builder would begin?)
I don’t always sleep. I am not always up that early . . .
But something must have happened.
I feel as though this isn’t a very interesting story – but I am trying to get on with this (new) neighbour of mine, and I think I had just better let her put my bins out for me – as she wants to do – if she is compelled to take it back in once I’ve put it out, it must be important to her – she gets up 6 a.m. every morning, to go to the gym.
Oh, time to give a bit – try not to get anxious as to what might be happening to my bin when I’m not in charge of it.
This is important – to me, it is.
And so I’ll put it here, regardless, this account – there may come a time when I can see what all this is really about.