Tuesday, 8 June 2010
Neighbours From Hell
We’ve finally made it...we have arrived at our bonny wee cottage in Scotland and it is beautiful.
As I write, I am gazing out across a mill-pond sea as the sun sets. The tide is on its way out, and the Isle of Arran has emerged out of the haze in the distance. I can see a heron, and my little pals the oystercatchers are wandering along the sand looking for their supper.
The journey was painless. The kids were stuffed neatly in the back of the car with all the buckets, spades, wellies and....a Concept 2 rowing machine. Yes, the husband has insisted on bringing it along with us and is currently rowing like mad outside whilst taking in the splendid view. The couple in the neighbouring cottage must think we’re bonkers. They’ve already been treated to the 9 year old’s Britain’s Got Talent act. He can take his t-shirt off and put it back on again whilst hula-hooping. He’s practiced it all evening at least 152 million times – right in front of their window.
‘That’s my teddy!’ she exclaimed.
Sure enough – it was! She’d left it there 12 months ago when we last visited, and the owners had kindly kept him safe on the shelf until we came back for him. He stank of cullen skink and smoked salmon, but he recognised his careless owner and she was pleased to be reunited with him.
So you see, our neighbours seem fairly nervous of us at the moment, and I suppose with a strange rowing man, a hula-hooping boy and a girl with a teddy bear that stinks of fish, they have every right to be. Maybe they’re clinging to the fact that ‘at least the wifey seems normal.’
Hmm, I wonder how long I should leave it before nonchalantly walking past their window, scaring them to death with my skinheed look?!...