Tuesday 14th July 2020 16:59
Some of the little b******s who roam our estate and the beautiful woodland between us and the canal, and who among other things have a propensity for setting fires (one recently in the woods required several fire trucks).
Although I’m posting this on Friday, this was Tuesday late afternoon. These three – particularly the one hurling the missile at my house – are the ones I watched setting fire to the litter bin at the end of the road some weeks ago. Their latest game is to pick up pocketfuls of some sort of small hard unripe fruit, presumably fallen from someone’s overhanging tree nearby, and hurl them at houses as they lollop past.
On Tuesday I was very lucky that this one – aimed at my open front door (you can’t hear clearly, but what was shouted between them was “Hey, that front door’s open…!”) – missed to the right of the doorway, ricocheting off the brick wall, and not the other side where it would have smashed the window. Also extremely lucky that little Jessie wasn’t in any of her usual spots either just inside the door or on the patio or bench.
At the moment it’s so easy to think I’m being paranoid and even wonder if I’m just making up the threats that are becoming daily occurrences here. When the outcome is minor I find I react with little more than weariness now, as I did to this (I was sitting out of sight but very close by, and merely called out wearily, “Oh aren’t you the clever little boy. Dear oh dear.”). But I’m all too aware that luck can’t always be relied upon to be on my side.
The thought of having to replace a window pane – especially one which would need immediate action being on view, big enough to climb through, right beside the front door and only a few feet from the pavement – sent shivers through me, for the cost that I can’t afford, and the necessary intrusion by workmen.
And so the search for a way of screening the front boundary to at least twice its current height with whatever I have already in the way of material goes on.