I’m working hard this weekend on comedy things.
I have holed myself up at my desk with the view of the landlord’s garden before me.
It is a big garden, adorned with such delights of modern garden design, like a washing line and an upturned plastic chair. Presumably this part of Willesden Green has bad soil and all of the trees need some help, these huge fucking tall trees. I only ponder this as for some reason they have all been propped up.
I have noticed one of the many people that occupy the family of the landlord has been out into the garden (in her tracksuit – mmm) and has a bottle of water that she tips out in places over the garden. Surely she is aware that grass doesn’t need watering, the rain that we have is a much easier way of ensuring an even cover.
She ought to also be aware that tipping half of the bottle of water over one spot of grass does dot an efficient watering system make, sprays or sprinklers are more economical and readily available. Probably from the B&Q round the corner (North West London’s largest DIY Store, makes me swell with pride every time I see that sign. And it causes laughs of derision every time I see another hardware store in North West London).
Just out of sight she disappears and returns with another full bottle. The water seems to be slightly yellow. Maybe it’s some kind of insecticide. Who knows?
It worries me that it may be piss.