This is my domain; the place I retreat to when at my parental home for the purposes of indulging my ‘filthy’ habit. I refer to my need for a periodic nicotine injection – believe me this is an improvement at least its inside! The garage is a well organised affair rather like a shed extension but with a recycling enhancement (you may be able to see the special place for those annoying tetra paks (the ones some of us may flatten and pop secretively into the cardboard/plastic)! Ma may moan about recycling but between the two of them they have pretty much become slaves to it like the rest of us! It’s the guilt that we might be contributing making the planet worse for the next generation..
The garage is a place for quiet contemplation, to allow ones mind to wander, to browse the Intelligent Life ap (free on the iphone and highly recommended) and occasionally purchase items from Amazon. On one such occasion the squirrel I bought my father some years ago when he was especially exercised by the ‘rats with tails’ in the garden. He had purchased some device that was supposed to emit some signal to scare them away; it didn’t work and wouldn’t (he said) unless physically thrown at the blessed creatures! Can you see it peeping out from the shelf?
Twice I have been caught unawares whilst having a cigarette; the garage is next to the back door. I don’t know why but I am reluctant to answer the door – it’s not my house! Yesterday it was the butcher, in full striped apron and white hat, as she delivered a joint of lamb for Christmas Day. It’s alarming to the visitor as they invariably haven’t seen me and are only aware I’m there when I join in the conversation! The butcher has recently joined the man who owns the business and she commented that there used to be 5 butchers in New Whittington when she was growing up. ‘Really?’ said the disembodied voice from somewhere behind her! ‘It’s my daughter’ said my mother at which point I pop my head around the door and wafted an explanatory cigarette!
Today engrossed in an article about Cambodia (Intelligent Life) I didn’t seen the woman walk passed the window although she had evidently seen me as she knocked on the door (before ringing the bell). I jumped out of my skin and yelled for my mother like a pansy frightened bunny- pathetic behaviour! Neither mother nor I recognised the woman and for some reason I thought it was a carol singer! No it was the new resident of number 16 of the Street (my parents live at number 16 of the Lane) with a parcel Lakeland had delivered and left in her shed! This is a regular occurrence although especially irritating as another parcel from the same place had been correctly delivered – and heaven knows we needed this new cling film cutter!