Tuesday, 2 August 2011

A Poop in a Bag is worth Two in the Grass.......

I don't seem to have posted for ages. I have discovered that I can't write when I am not feeling great - I have to be in a specific state of mind - and I also have to have some decent subject matter as well.

Sometimes things happen which fill you with such rage that you end up having to do something about the situation. Saturday morning was a prime example. I happened to saunter out of the shower in a really good mood as we were going on a day out. The sun was shining and all was jolly. The joviality I felt instantly disappeared as my eyes fell on a person from down the road letting his dog leave a deposit on the grassy square opposite the house. Not content with that, he took his foot and kicked the cut grass over the top of it. I was enraged.  The kids from the street play on that bit of grass which is set back off the road, so it is a decent safe place to play and the filthy sod was well aware of that . To say I was irate would have been generous.  It was a damn good thing I was only wearing a towel as it meant I was unable to leap from my door and tackle him.  Actually, in retrospect,  I might have been far more intimidating in just a towel.  On the other hand the prospect of it slipping and me being carted away on an indecent exposure charge was not good. Off he sauntered down the street, happy in the knowledge that his dog had shat on someone else's doorstep and not his own. I went downstairs, still fuming, and told S who obviously was worried I was about to cause a riot in the street.  So I did something I have never done before, I got the council phone number and phoned to complain.  I can only assume that the lady I spoke to either had the patience of a saint or had been at one point employed by the  Samaritans. She listened sympathetically as I ranted on about how the kids could roll in it etc, etc and promised he would be spoken to. I hope to goodness I don't spot him again as I honestly wont be able to contain myself from shovelling it up and trailing off down the street to leave it on his doorstep.

Saturday  afternoon was lovely in Edinburgh. So much so it was bringing out the loonies. Trailing down Castle Street I thought the heat was making me hallucinate as I clocked something pink trailing towards myself and L. Getting closer I realised to my horror it was a stag party complete with two eejits dressed up as a six foot willy and a set of ladybits. There was no escape. I couldn't go round them as the road was narrow so I had to plough along dragging L by the hand who was wetting herself laughing and shouting 'Mum, what are they meant to be?' She must think my head zips up the back......