Weekend peace

On Sunday I had just settled down for a nice breakfast in my PJs when there was a knock on my door. I open and there was a young police officer asking if I had heard any noise last night. My next door neighbour had had her door kicked in sometime during the Saturday afternoon or evening.
There was a small congregation of worried neighbours out on the landing, they too in their PJs. I joined in and was told that many neighbours had been burgled. A worrying thought.

In this case they had only managed to steal the landline! Surely the black market for stolen landlines must be limited these days when most people only have a mobile, or? Someone suggested it must have been a drug addict or something.

I don’t care who it was, it makes me feel insecure. I can’t even afford a home insurance and neither can my neighbours. I try to save up for a new pair of glasses since I’m blind as a bat with my old ones and glasses has to come before an insurance.

It’s all because the security system does not work, people can just kick on the door’s security system and let themselves in!

I called the landlord and told them there is no security here. She said she will talk to the maintenance guy about it but I’m pretty sure nothing will come out of it because they need to replace the entire system to one that you can’t kick open.

What to do next? Buy a gun? Create a neighbourhood watch? Hope and pray it will not happen to me? What?  

All suggestions kindly accepted...

The big clean up

After being home for days resting my bad knee and feeling sorry for myself because I couldn’t go to the Nottinghill Carnival, I decided it was time for me to get out of the house. So on carnival Sunday I went to cinema and saw One Day, which was such a co-dependent rubbish.
As I came out from the cinema I walked pass a group of people that were smeared in chocolate and obviously just came back from Nottinghill after playing the mas with Pure Lime, the band I used to play with.
I was gutted so I called my sponsor, she said she will come and visit me. On the way home I noticed that the front garden was filthy with rubbish and I decided to clean it up. I’m not too keen on my sponsor to see the filth I live in.
That is how I ended up spending carnival Monday sweeping the street armed with a broom, refuse bags and garden gloves.
As I worked hard in the sun, the drug dealer from across the street passed me and tried to pretend he didn’t stare at me. I keep on bumping into him across Brixton but only when I do something weird.
I collected three bags of rubbish from the front garden and three bags from the back garden. I also cleaned the staircases up to my door. I don’t know if my cleaning makes me a mad woman or a genius? I surely hope it’s not yet another cross-addiction of mine! Gulp, is it?

Now, a slight change of topic. I always said I love Brighton because of all the seagulls there, which reminds me of Stockholm. (Stockholm is built on many islands and is surrounded by water and therefore has lots of seagulls.)
However, recently some seagulls seem to have moved into Brixton and settled down on my street. I hope it’s not all the filth that attracted them. I now realised that I hate the buggers because they have a nasty tendency to scream at 4am! Now I have to get myself a shotgun and sort the bastards out!
Maybe I can ask my drug dealing neighbour across the street?