A year in the life of a house

At 4.00pm this afternoon we had lived in this house for exactly one year, one year ago when we moved into our classic seventies bungalow it looked a bit like the sort of house that a little old lady might have been living in for over twenty years. There was good reason for that because it had been lived in for more than twenty years by a little old lady. One year later and after doing various things it no longer looks like that and slowly but surely it is starting to have the slightly quirky image we are famous for in the circles of quirkiness.

Strangely however despite all the work on the house, painting walls moving stuff about, solar panels and various other things there is still loads more to be done. I did wonder about a large medieval tower with a cantilevered stone spiral staircase and an option to pour boiling oil and tar on the masses below as they attempt to scale the also new portcullis. With its protective moat and steel spikes. I have just been informed that we will not be having a medieval tower, moat or portcullis and that this is why I will never make it as a town planner, that seems a little hard I think towns need some town planners with a bit of imagination.

After school we went off to Potters the great recycling dump at Welshpool, it has always been a place of wonder, a place where people take things that no one wants. Well when I say no one wants what I mean is loads of people want, it is very interesting to see one person put something down only to then see five people having a fight over who can get the item in their car first. Of course I was dumping a printer that had accidently fallen into a hundred pieces so no one wanted that. But to my horror the whole place was clean and tidy and stripped of everything not a single little thing left for the punters to fight over, that is terrible what kind of public recycling place has nothing for the public to pick through. If that carries on the public will stop going, after all what is the point of taking your old rubbish if there is no one else’s old rubbish you can rifle through to fill up your car to take it home to put it in the space vacated by the stuff you took in the first place. Surely that is the entire point of recycling or it would not be called recycling. I am just glad our house is full of loads of strange stuff that nobody wants . . . . . PHEW

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