In our quest to dig for victory, Bman has filled up our brown garden waste bin. In light of the announcement from the council that these bins were not being collected for the foreseeable, he cooked up a plan. This involved me going for my daily ration of exercise round the block, wearing cargo pants with pockets filled with garden waste. Emptying the contents as I went – Great Escape style. No doubt whistling the theme tune as I merrily went along.
I said no to this ludicrous suggestion.
His Plan B was to, under cover of darkness, stealthily exchange our full bin for the empty one across the road at the unoccupied house opposite.
Fate, however, intervened here (as it is wont to do). As I was putting clothes away upstairs yesterday afternoon, I looked out the window & saw two teenage girls liberate said empty brown bin from said unoccupied house, in broad daylight. Not a single stealth-like fuck was given as they wheeled it off down the street laughing away to themselves.
Bman was most disgruntled at this development.
Cut to Plan C. I won’t elaborate, but suffice to say, We have a new brown bin – currently being filled while the Bman finishes his digging. Let’s hope he doesn’t find a femur or manage to electrocute himself by digging up the electricity cable that connects the shed to the house (yes… that shit happened, but I made him put it back before either of us got a zapping). Or he digs up an unexploded WW2 shell or some such and ends up getting the whole neighbourhood sealed off by the army.
Anything that distracts him for peeping out the front window like a meerkat anytime anybody walks past and saying “Who’s this Big Brew?” in a funny voice (even more than he usually does), is fine by me.
I thought it was a testing time when he was looking for work before… The universe is testing me and my patience (and him and his) these last few months and so it would seem will continue to do so for some time yet.
Wonder which one of us will end up buried in this tatie patch next to the electric cable before the year’s end?
In a further experiment, on Bman’s tea break, I wandered up the street to see how far the range was on my ghostbusting walkie talkies. I got to the bus stop then turned back as there were some infected coming towards me (they may not have been infected but I was taking no chances in these strange times). I then text my pal & got her involved. She lives on the next street & has her own set of walkies and by gum, it worked!
Yes, It’s only Day 4 and it has turned into ‘The Burbs’ round here. I’m just waiting for the Klopeks’ furnace to burst into life and Ricky Butler to start painting his house whilst calling for the pizza dude.
So at least if the mobile network goes down, we will be able to still talk shit and quote random League of Gentlemen references at one another while society burns to the ground around us.