Tag Archives: locked out

Those Senior Moments!

I dropped Julia off at work this morning at 6am, then popped down to East Midlands Airport to pick up Number Two Son. He is now doing night shifts as a hotel porter/receptionist and gets off at 7am.

After that we went home and I read some blog posts before packing the laundry and locking myself out of the house

If you say it like that it sounds like it was all part of a masterplan. It wasn’t, but I suppose you had guessed that. Do you know how long it takes to wake a slumbering youth who has been doing nights all week? I rang his mobile, I rang the home phone. I used the door knocker, I banged on the door, I shouted through the letter box. Eventually I borrowed a pole from a neighbour and used it to bang on the window. Repeatedly.

Finally I took the risk of knocking on the door of the neighbour who has our spare key.  Fortunately she was up.I eventually woke the somnolent child by going into his room and shaking him to check he was still alive.

After that I drove to the laundry and sat in hothouse temperatures for over an hour. It was uncomfortable, but I had a good chat with an retired gardener who used to do the brilliant plantings we had in the city parks (before the cut-backs, as we always have to say). I took water in with me to keep rehydrated, but couldn’t find it when I wanted it.

Senior moment number two – forgetting the water.

Or did I?

In fact, as I emptied the drier, I found the water. It was in with the clothes and it was hot enough to make coffee, though not quite boiling. Classic Senior moment as my new friend, the Ancient Gardener, told me.

Yes, I know, as I may have said before. It’s difficult pegging washing out when you have uneven ground and a walking stick. When we redesign the garden we will tackle that problem.

 

The Excitement Continues…

Look what drew up outside our house tonight.

I’m going to get invited to the Fire Service Christmas party at this rate.

Fortunately they didn’t rush up to the door with axes. Instead they went to the house across the road and climbed in through an upstairs window as the owner had, it appears, locked himself out.

That took me back to the early ’60s when we were living in Blackburn. We went to the seaside and spent the day at Southport, which always seemed like a treat compared to a day in Blackpool. Even now I can’t tell you why I preferred Southport and Morecambe to the bustle of Blackpool. It may be something to do with the time we went up Blackpool Tower and I discovered I was scared of heights.

Whilst relaxing on the beach the shop keys fell out of my Dad’s pocket. We sifted a lot of sand but never did find them.

On arriving home we rang the fire brigade for help and, as today, they entered by an upstairs window.

The difference between the two events, apart from nearly 60 years and 150 miles, was that we had a dog, a Border Terrier called Pip. He had been left to guard the house and that’s what he did. Fortunately we were able to distract him while the firemen entered and opened the door.

Ah, memories…

As you may notice, we have lace curtains so I can twitch them whilst spying on neighbours. I didn’t need to do that today, I just sat in my chair and took the photo. It’s probably my laziest ever blog post.