Skip to main content


Raising the Dead

I am up early this morning because it's garbage day. My poor garbage men have been backing and filling out there for almost an hour and have done two return runs because I didn't put my bin out last night. Having paid the electrician and my usual gang of thieves, I am broke four days after pay day and back on the two minute noodle diet which I  enjoyed (?) all through Russia and Iceland, so I only had one small rubbish bag this week - hardly worth the effort of shlepping the bin to the street. So sorry guys, but it is nice to know I am missed. I won't be like the odd eccentric millionaire you read about who is found only weeks after his or her death, because his/her cats are starting to prowl the streets. I don't even have a cat, so it's nice to know the garbage men are there.

It's such a shame.

Here I am surrounded by cafes, theatres and cinemas, dress shops having sales, book shops closing down and I dare not go out, lest I am tempted to spend money I don't have. The power bills have gone up, so have cigarettes, petrol and food. I can't imagine how people get on who have to pay rent as well, much less people who pay rent, drink, smoke and drive cars (not simultaneously one hopes).

I am glad no one has thought of taxing the view yet, but I had better not say that out loud or that will be next.