Give old people an inch & they’ll take a mile …

My flat mate & I don’t have noisy parties.

We park in our designated residents bay.

We don’t take motor bikes to bits in our garden.

We don’t have a garden.

For this reason, my only interaction with wildlife is in the form of hanging bird feeders from the window locks. I have done this without any problem for 15 months.

Last night I received a telephone call, whilst at work, from my landlord who asked me to take the feeders in because of complaints from my downstairs neighbour.

The same downstairs neighbour who enjoys numerous, profane outbursts between 0700 & 2300 for reasons best known to himself.

In the interests of a quiet life I have never alluded to these outbursts.

The control room environment was not conducive to a long discussion with my landlord & I agreed to take the feeders in, in the interests of neighbourly harmony.

Having stewed until 0300 this morning, I now feel differently.

The message left on my ansaphone at 0815 this morning hasn’t improved my mood.

‘Hello, this is Peter ______, chairman of the local ‘nothing better to do with our time brigade’. I spoke with Mrs erm, oh what’s her name ? anyway, the owner of your flat last night about your feeders. They are encouraging squirrels which are a pest. Take them in’

I checked my lease this morning. Clause 1.8 says I must not indulge in behaviour whish causes annoyance to my neighbours.

The feeders are still out at the moment.

I plan to examine the ground beneath them on my way to work today for fetid mountains of acrid guano. If there are no signs I fancy contacting the landlord to tell him my neighbours are being unreasonable.

Suggestions anyone ?

Cx

‘Criminals are rubbish’

is one of Dominic’s favourite phrases.

You may remember Dominic as the Clark Kent of the law enforcement world. Mild & unassuming by day. Coquettish pole dancer by night.

He’s right though. Most of the people we deal with are not over-endowed on the brains front. Just as well really.

I wanted to tell you about some of the more rubbish ones this week.

First up, 2 numpties who, at 0200, hovered around a cash point for more than 15 minutes, thus piquing the interest of CCTV operatives. When asked to stop by Plod, they did the classic rubbish criminal ‘Who me ?’ gesture, pointing at themselves then decided to run away. They ran in a large rectangle, arriving back were they started until Dominic called over the p/r ‘2 detained’. One against two has never been good odds & the skinnier of the two had broken free & started running again by the time Tom arrived. Undeterred Tom gave hot chase, as far as the memorial gardens, where his suspect appeared to have disappeared into thin air.

Not expecting to be rewarded for his efforts, Tom hoisted the lid of the nearest wheelie bin in desultory fashion. To discover Mr.Skinny Numpty who said ‘I want to see my lawyer’

As Tom relayed the silly sod’s hiding place over the radio it gave Dominic the perfect inner …’Criminals are rubbish’ he said gleefully.

‘Ask him where he’s wheelie bin’ chipped in Andy. How we laughed.

The master criminals were found to be in possession of squillions of naughty phone cards converted to credit cards (I can’t go into details, not because of subjudicy but because I still don’t understand how they did it ?) They also had more money than anyone ever earns by legal means.

2-Nil Old Bill

Next up, our career burglar who was caught in the middle of the night on the property red-handed by the occupier’s son. Burglar makes off. Son fetches dad and the two of them persuade him to return to the scene of his crime whilst phoning Plod. As Plod arrive, he is vehemently denying that he was there, until he drops a packet of biscuits which Dad was eating earlier. He’s also asked to explain how it is that he has Dad’s diary in his back pocket since he has never been in their house. ?

3-Nil Old Bill

The boys in blue have a favourite saying to describe when someone’s driving does not meet the required standard. They say ‘He’s all over the road MP’, ‘MP’ being the callsign for the Ivory Tower dwellers in The Room. I should clarify that it is ‘Em Pee’ and NEVER ‘Metro Papa’ which is odd. I don’t know why, but there you go.

Dominic stopped just such a driver last night. The smell of alcohol which greeted him when he opened the car door confirmed his initial suspicions. It was at this point that things started to get difficult.

‘Anyone on duty able to do sign language ?’ asked Dom plaintively over the radio. Maggie replied there was not. She then went on to suggest helpfully to Dom that he should write down for the profoundly deaf driver how he wanted him to comply with the drink drive procedure ie ‘Blow into this …’

‘I have a slight problem’ came Dom’s reply. ‘He’s dyslexic’ as well.

What are the chances of stopping a drunk, deaf, dyslexic ?

That’s got to be 200 points at least.

We spent the rest of the night asking Dom if he picked the wings off flies. His response was to accuse us all of being left-wing bunny huggers.

Further enquiries revealed our hapless prisoner had taken his sister’s car, which he did not have permission to drive and he only had a licence (look Mummeh) to drive an automatic.

To compound his misery he was twice over the legal limit.

‘Not such a fascist now am I ?’ was Dom’s text message to all 4 of us in the control room when the result came in.

4-Nil Old Bill

I’m kind of sad it’s the last one tonight.

Cx

‘If you’re still watching TV without a licence, watch out’ ...

was the arresting title of the letter I received from the TV licensing numpties today. They continue …

‘Our Customer Services department recently wrote to you because there is no record of a TV Licence at this address ……… blah blah blah … … … they have now passed your details onto me in order to schedule a visit to the above address.’

There follows the usual vague warnings about going to court & being fined up to £1,000.

Far from being dismayed about how utterly incompetent Michelle Tunstall & her bunch of square-eyed, slack-jawed employees would seem to be, I see this as an opportunity for some richly comic writing.

I will be composing a reply. Watch this space. What I would like from you lot are some choice epithets – you know the sort of stuff I mean. MTM & Weeny, you two never seem short of things to say in situations like these. I will include the best bits in my reply & of couse I will publish it here for all to share.

I await with bated breath.

Cx

It’s official – Autumn’s here & I’m pleased …

I appreciate I won’t make any friends saying this but Summer seems to have dragged on & on this year. Every time I’ve gone anywhere I’ve arrived sweaty & fed up & the heat has been really sapping. Riding has meant ground baked like concrete & flies which plague both horse & rider.

The last straw came for me on Wednesday when I travelled to New Scotland Yard to work a rest day. I cycled about half a mile to the BR station, then walked about 20 minutes from Victoria to the Yard.

I arrived with my shirt sticking to my back & my hair plastered to my face. Unsurprisingly the air con had packed up at the Yard so no relief there.

Today I rode CB in a fresh, swirling breeze, the flies left us alone & there was a crisp tang in my nostrils as we trampled bracken underfoot.

Almost the best thing about riding at this time of year is warming up whilst cleaning muddy tack & savouring a hot chocolate watching CB tucking into his tea.

Remember how I told you about ‘I’m Sorry I Haven’t a Clue’ ?
If you possibly can, listen to ‘Dead Ringers’ on Radio 4, 1830 Friday evenings & 1230 Saturday afternoons. Ignore the TV programme you may have seen bearing this name, it started on radio & radio is it’s true home. Laugh out loud funny.

I start a week of night duty tonight. I’ve been looking forward to it for a few reasons. Our last set of nights was incredibly busy & although stressful, the time went incredibly quickly & we had some really decent bodies (arrests). I’ll have additional company at work in the form of Barley who I have for the next week due to Stuart & Kerry being away. Nights is good for another reason – I can ride every day, which is the perfect antidote to the lack of daylight & weird sleep pattern.

You may have picked up that I’ve been working some of my rest days up at New Scotland Yard. I’m aiming to work 50% of my days off up there to pay off my loans quicker. I answer the ‘999’ calls in what’s known as ‘IR’ or ‘Information Room’ or as you’ll hear Stan refer to it ‘The Room’. It can be very stressful but compared to Kingston where I have to take responsibility when things go wrong, the Yard is a doddle. ‘Hello Police Emergency’, take the details, pass them down to another poor sod to deal with … Next !

I aim to tell you about my favourite ‘999’ call from each shift.

Here for your delectation, is Wednesday’s …

Me ; ‘Hello, Police Emergency’

Caller ; ‘Hello, this is Jonny Wilkinson’

Me ; ‘Oh yes ?’

Caller ; ‘Yes. Charles & Camilla are my parents’

Me ; ‘Right’

Caller ; ‘But it’s between me & the Queen so don’t tell anyone else
alright ?’

Me ; ‘Fair enough’

Caller ; ‘Bye’

Me ; ‘Bye then’

Cx

For the last 15 months I haven’t had a tv license …

I haven’t had a tv either but that hasn’t put the feckwits off at the tv licensing department. On a monthly basis they have written to me threatening visits. My telephoned & written replies inviting them to visit & check on me so they may cease their feeble case of harassment have met with polite confusion.

They persist in referring to me as Miss Green (the previous occupiers girlfriend) despite my telling them repeatedly I am not she.

The letters commenced along the lines of ‘You don’t have a tv licence & we’re gonna send the boys round’ to the more formal & less vague ‘We have now applied to Richmond Magistrates Court for a warrant to search your premises due to your repeated refusal to allow licensing officers access to your premises.’ This is somewhat misleading as despite my repeated invitations they have not once knocked on the door.

The conclusion when it came was thoroughly disappointing.

In my imagination, the man from tv licensing was in his 50’s with Brylcreemed hair, a small moustache & a pinstripe suit. He would be very easy to be unpleasant to. I planned to present him with a dozen or so copies of my letters & demand an explanation for 15 months of irritating correspondence.

In reality she was an attractive lady in her mid 20’s, dressed in original boho chic (not the modern stuff River Island sells to convince you that you look like Sienna) She had a faint but distinct Middle Eastern accent & struck me as a person who was doing the job for a few months to give her extra money.

I thought of Malcolm & Justine & how they delivered census forms, in addition to full-time jobs, before the last census in 2001 (?) to pay for Justine’s neddy. It dawned on me I knew nothing about this person, or about her reasons for doing the job.

All I knew was she was on my doorstep smiling warmly & asking

‘Miss Green ?

‘No’

‘Oh ?’

‘She moved over a year ago, I am Miss Briggsy’

‘Oh – our records show …’
‘I’ve written to you over a dozen times advising you of the change of occupiers’

‘Oh. But you don’t have a tv license do you ?’

‘No’

My calm admission seemed to faze her. I don’t suppose many people give that answer.

‘In that case can I …?’

I cut her short, ‘Would you like to come in & look for the tv ?’

After taking a brief glance in the lounge she thanked me & made to leave.

‘Aren’t you going to check the bedrooms ?’ I asked.

‘We don’t normally …’

I cut her short again,

‘I want you to check every room so that your department never has to contact me again’

Taking her by the elbow I showed her the bedrooms, which she agreed were tv free.

I plan to go to Argos now & buy a 53” wide-screen plasma screen for every room including the bathroom.

Cx

Let the stormy clouds chase …

Location ; Bedroom
Time commenced ; 2115
Listening to ; A play on Radio 4
Weather ; Raging, exotic thunderstorms


This entry is dedicated to The Lovely Ang, Trudes & Weeny, all of whom complained bitterly on Thursday night that ‘You never blog any more.’ I was especially moved by Weeny’s plaintive observation ‘Every morning I log on with my cup of tea … every morning …nothing’ Her despair was plain to see.

I feel buzzy & upbeat & don’t know whether to put it down to exercise endorphins or the lovely catch up call I just had with Mummeh.

On Thursday night I met up with the afore-mentioned lovelies for one of our all too infrequent girls nights out. The last time the 4 of us met was July 2004 for the barn dance – disgusting.

The evening was overdue and we had been prodded into action by Weeny’s good news that she had applied for and been accepted to become a SOCO (Scenes of Crimes Officer)

The evening almost didn’t happen (for me anyway) thanks to a stressful journey up & down the A1 to collect Henry from Rutland where he had been left for a holiday with the lovely people at Morcott Tyres after his brakes jammed on. The 2.5 journey became 3.5 either way & the angst was relieved only by the antics of The Milky Bar Kid who isn’t familiar with stress.

His way of enlivening traffic jams is to make sure we are being watched by the people in the car next to us. He then proceeds to yell silently at me, gesticulating wildly, his grimacing face inches away from my deadpan one. At the point that our neighbours are reaching for their mobiles to call Plod, he grabs me & smothers my face with dozens of passionately wet kisses. When asked why he likes to embarrass me thus his explanation was ‘I like to pretend we have a volatile relationship to entertain other drivers.’

Life is never dull.

I digress. Thursday night commenced in a promising fashion as I arrived at Trudy’s to be greeted in classic Trudy style ‘Would you like …?’ Indeed I would. You know you’re drinking something unusual when everyone else in the room holds their breath whilst you taste your beverage. After 2 glasses of gooseberry wine I was raring to go. We headed off for a gorgeous meal at ‘Joanna’s’. I can’t remember a meal I’ve enjoyed more in a long time. The service and conversation were equally good & they were putting chairs on tables when we regretfully left.

Once back at Trudy’s we were all growed up & retired only after drinking lots of water.

Sometimes the anticipation of a night out makes it difficult for the event to live up to expectations but I am pleased to report Thursday had all the ingredients for a perfect GNO. My sides hurt the next day.

There’s something infinitely rewarding about sharing your experiences with your best girl friends.

‘What’s wraaaaaaaaaaaaang with you ?’


Bedtime now – early turn tomorrow, this post to be finished tomorrow

Good evening again, Part II – Sunday evening.

I have just spent a rather satisfying evening ironing & starching a dozen work shirts. I know what you’re thinking & you’re right. Normally I dislike ironing too. The type of ironing I hate is when I’m in a rush & need to iron something to go out. I’m usually hot, sweaty & in a rush.

However, armed with a water spray, a tin of starch, a carton of coconut & pineapple juice & listening (yet again) to Bill Bryson’s ‘A walk in the woods’, & ironing is a different prospect. It was made even more enjoyable by watching my feathered friends.

I have been feeding the birds here for over a year & the lack of garden means I am reliant on feeders suspended from the window catches for my avian action. Recently, I have being visited by a very handsome black & red woodpecker. I never fail to be thrilled by his visits & remain motionless whilst he helps himself, with great élan to a single peanut per visit.

The birds which never fail to make me laugh are the greenfinches. They are the absolute opposite of the darting woodpecker. They perch their stout little bodies on the feeders, displaying a preference for sunflower hearts, and will proceed to feed for up to 5 minutes at a time. If challenged by another bird they simply open their beak towards the newcomer. I think this means ‘Sling your hook’ in bird language. What is most entertaining is their mannerisms whilst feeding. All the other birds continually look around them for predators. Not the greenfinches – who stare steadfastly into the flat as if assessing the décor. ‘Green cushions on a cream suite ?’ they seem to be thinking. If I appear whilst they are contemplating the interior of the flat they don’t disappear like all the other birds. They simply stare with casual insouciance & will actually move around the feeder to continue watching me. I don’t know what personal survival skills greenfinches are taught but I wouldn’t like to meet one in a dark alley. They must really know what they’re doing.

That’s it for now – still to come …Dominic impresses again at Twickenham, my holiday to The Lakes, and my visit to Rutland to see Malcolm & Justine.

I promise to blog twice weekly from now on, partly because I miss the structure of writing & partly because I’m being bullied.

For now, some updates …

Well done Milky whose worth has been rewarded by the chance to be trained to drive a jam sandwich quickly.

Congrats to Weeny on her successful SOCO application.

Hurrah for Stuart & Kerry. Stuart has done the decent thing & asked Kerry to marry him. Kerry has shown good taste in saying yes. They marry in November.

As per above for MTM & Piggy. Your PoA was superb.

Get well soon Turbo who snapped an Achilles tendon whilst under heavy fire disembarking a Black Hawk. Apparently.

Thanks Stan for holding the fort with Pearls & Swine. ‘Zeeba neighbour’ made me inhale my tea when I read it. Flippin’ well done on the Channels Course, I look forward to hearing your always distinctive tones on #3/4

More soon,

Cx