Mother. (Episode 7).

13 08 2016
 Things I didn't know about my mother. (Part 16)
Mothers house is perfectly placed if you are into people watching. And mother is. And its contagious. At least seven houses are visible from the front room picture window. Five across the road and one to the left and one to the right. Whenever we sit by the window mother gives me an update on the occupants. The professional Indian couple always leave the house early – immaculate garden, neat front of house. The young couple next door are never home – uncut grass, random bits of rubble, foot high weeds. The family at the end have more cars than car space. “Perhaps they should demolish part of the house and build a car park”. I nod but don’t laugh. Then mother informs me that the neighbour to the left is the most interesting one to watch. ‘He doesn’t look a day over 90 and he likes to jog. It takes him five minutes to pass by mothers window – five seconds to lift a leg up and plant it back down on the ground again, and seven seconds to swing one arm forward and the other one back. He uses them to stagger his body onwards. The only thing he is likely to see on his journey is the ground since his head is bent at an angle of 90 degrees. Whatever you do don’t get old son’. I nod, and this time I snigger. ‘Is there a choice?’ Mother laughs with me. Then mother informs me that she admires him so much that she has joined a line dancing class. But mother won’t be going this week. Someone stood on her corn and the only thing she can bear to wear on her feet at the moment are fluffy slippers. She has also mislaid her car keys again, hence the reason we haven’t ventured out, but have chosen instead to sit by the window and drink tea. And then, as if on cue the man with the camouflage back pack, yellow goggles and a heavy duty metal detector mother had told me about, zig zags past our window. Mother strains her neck, watches him turn a corner, and then wonders out loud about whether he could use that contraption to help her find her car keys. I pour another cup of tea, vaguely concerned that it looks too strong for mothers liking. I add more milk and hope for another distraction outside mothers window.






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