I heartily apologise that the first thing I write on here is a rant. But I really need to vent a little and after that I'm sure I can get down to some serious editing. It's for a good cause. Therefore I'll warn you, this may not be pretty.
As I've mentioned before, I live in a field. Let's call my house Field 1. There are actually 8 houses in my street, all with their own field. (Yes, it is posh, but I am here totally by accident so please don't judge :)) Field 6 has always been a bit of a renegade. It's had a string of unsuitable owners, it is constantly changing its look, bursting out in vulgar show-offishness and it's always been a bit too loud. I seriously think it deserves an ASBO!
The current behaviour of Field 6 has pretty much never been worse. Granted, Field 1 is a bit of an eyesore; messy, dilapidated and a little depressed... However, it is absolutely destitute and can't do much about its current state so let's not pick on the poor Field shall we? Field 6 on the other hand appears to have more cash than Croesus judging by the amount of work going on over there. For more than TWO YEARS now that Field has opened its gates at the crack-of-bloody-dawn to a posse of yelling, cursing, deaf builders who then proceed to fire up every single digger, dump truck, generator, noisy building type machine... and then bugger off for a cup of tea and a bacon roll.
TWO YEARS PEOPLE! TWO LONG AND ARDUOUS YEARS!
I used to live in a Field where I would be wakened by the dawn chorus. Could fling open my windows and smell the fresh country air and listen to... silence. I used to live in an idyllic country retreat where I would smile and nod in an almost supercilious type way at the gasps of jealous wonderment whenever anyone visited my gorgeous Field. I could read my book with only the sounds of the countryside filling my ears. I could write with the smell of freshly mown grass, listening to the lowing of cows in the distance... I could think in peace.
Now I just want to light a petrol bomb and fling it across the road.
Except that's just going to prolong the agony, 'cos they'd only start all over a-bloody-gain.
I'm also a little scared. To be perfectly honest, after a year I was thinking Field 6 was going to have to run out of money soon. I mean, what sort of Field can afford to keep a posse of builders employed full time for more than a year? But as time kept moving on and there was no sign of the end of the series of small walls with water running over them, or hand chiselled marble signs or large electronically operated gates... it suddenly dawned on me. There has to be something really, really dodgy about this Field. It has to be growing things that are providing it with an inordinately large income to splash around on mechanical noise makers and burly shouty people. I'm pretty convinced now that the holes being dug are being filled with something other than hardcore and that the constant stream of large blacked out cars at all hours of the day and night (blocking the road and causing me to be late for every blummin thing I go to!) have illicit agendas.
I have therefore decided to re-name Field 6 as Don Fieldio VI. I am recording its every move from my upstairs windows. I've a notebook to take down all the vehicle registration numbers. And I'm saving every empty bottle and old cloth and am stockpiling petrol.
Some day soon I will get my opportunity for revenge. The Field will make a fatal error and I shall silence it forever without remorse. Some day, that Field will be ashes and dust.
Until then, I'll just keep my headphones on and swear a lot!
As I've mentioned before, I live in a field. Let's call my house Field 1. There are actually 8 houses in my street, all with their own field. (Yes, it is posh, but I am here totally by accident so please don't judge :)) Field 6 has always been a bit of a renegade. It's had a string of unsuitable owners, it is constantly changing its look, bursting out in vulgar show-offishness and it's always been a bit too loud. I seriously think it deserves an ASBO!
The current behaviour of Field 6 has pretty much never been worse. Granted, Field 1 is a bit of an eyesore; messy, dilapidated and a little depressed... However, it is absolutely destitute and can't do much about its current state so let's not pick on the poor Field shall we? Field 6 on the other hand appears to have more cash than Croesus judging by the amount of work going on over there. For more than TWO YEARS now that Field has opened its gates at the crack-of-bloody-dawn to a posse of yelling, cursing, deaf builders who then proceed to fire up every single digger, dump truck, generator, noisy building type machine... and then bugger off for a cup of tea and a bacon roll.
TWO YEARS PEOPLE! TWO LONG AND ARDUOUS YEARS!
I used to live in a Field where I would be wakened by the dawn chorus. Could fling open my windows and smell the fresh country air and listen to... silence. I used to live in an idyllic country retreat where I would smile and nod in an almost supercilious type way at the gasps of jealous wonderment whenever anyone visited my gorgeous Field. I could read my book with only the sounds of the countryside filling my ears. I could write with the smell of freshly mown grass, listening to the lowing of cows in the distance... I could think in peace.
Now I just want to light a petrol bomb and fling it across the road.
Except that's just going to prolong the agony, 'cos they'd only start all over a-bloody-gain.
I'm also a little scared. To be perfectly honest, after a year I was thinking Field 6 was going to have to run out of money soon. I mean, what sort of Field can afford to keep a posse of builders employed full time for more than a year? But as time kept moving on and there was no sign of the end of the series of small walls with water running over them, or hand chiselled marble signs or large electronically operated gates... it suddenly dawned on me. There has to be something really, really dodgy about this Field. It has to be growing things that are providing it with an inordinately large income to splash around on mechanical noise makers and burly shouty people. I'm pretty convinced now that the holes being dug are being filled with something other than hardcore and that the constant stream of large blacked out cars at all hours of the day and night (blocking the road and causing me to be late for every blummin thing I go to!) have illicit agendas.
I have therefore decided to re-name Field 6 as Don Fieldio VI. I am recording its every move from my upstairs windows. I've a notebook to take down all the vehicle registration numbers. And I'm saving every empty bottle and old cloth and am stockpiling petrol.
Some day soon I will get my opportunity for revenge. The Field will make a fatal error and I shall silence it forever without remorse. Some day, that Field will be ashes and dust.
Until then, I'll just keep my headphones on and swear a lot!
oooOOooo
Today I am mostly reading :
The Statistical Probability of Love at First Sight by Jennifer E Smith
and it is phenomenal!
And I am only listening to:
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