Let me introduce my neighbours: Tom and Dot.
Dot is indispensable. She moves my post from the front door while I’m away, and she used to feed the cat before the Old Boiler stepped in. Dot is now down to light duties, and is rewarded accordingly.
She still waters the outdoor plants but, vertically challenged, the hanging baskets are a bit much for her. ‘I end up watering myself,’ she laughs.
Tom, conversely, gets under one’s feet and talks tangentially of his work on the railway at every opportunity. ‘Ain’t like it used to be,’ he says. ‘Much better after you left,’ retorts Dot. He is slightly deaf and spends a good deal of his time watching drivel on the television – at high volume.
Last time I popped next door – I’d run out of tea – he was glued to one of those confessional programs with the subtitle ‘Is my cousin really my sister?’ blanketing the screen. I’m extremely lucky to have them as neighbours.
When I’m at home, I occasionally glance through old photo albums – simply to remember where I’ve been. That sounds ridiculous I know, but if you regard these past five months as pretty standard life, it’s difficult to recall, say, where the Beastie Boys played in ’98. Anyway, I came across a picture of me at seventeen and thought you may like to see it. Good heavens, what a mess I looked as a teenager.
AC/DC Tour Video Footage
All good things come to an end, however. After lunch, it’s back to the grindstone: Wembley Stadium, where I discover Namibian sulking, a disconsolate figure in his lorry. In a single stroke, he has managed to wipe all of the AC/DC outdoor-leg footage from his video camera.
While transferring it to DVD he has pressed the wrong button…and deleted the lot. He is inconsolable this afternoon. German Holger is also in low spirits – he has had his bicycle stolen from outside Tesco. Oh dear..