Mother. (Episode 31)

5 09 2016

The garage isn’t a place I often visit. It’s cold, damp and there is no car parked in it. But it is full of stuff and no matter how many times I empty it its always full of stuff again when I visit next time – usually at my mothers request. “I’m running out of space. Could you come over and tidy it up a bit?’

I arrive, a bit down trodden.  I know I’m going to need a good supply of rubble sacks and plastic crates before I start. I also know that there will be a large stash of discarded flower pots in the middle of the garage floor, piles of Pound Shop peat, enough plastic bags to service Sainsbury’s customers for a year, a massive quantity of bleach, prescription medicine trays, and out of date flavoured water, Sanatogen, Lucozade and Coco Cola. Not to mention the odd shoes (Odd shoes?), hand bags, rusted tools and paint tins.

There’s never enough room in the boot of the Polo for everything, so a few of the rubble sacks end up staying behind. And by the time I get around to tidying up mothers garage again there still won’t be enough room to transport everything to the recycling center.  Next time I will have to hire a van I vow.

But the most stressful day for mother is a Thursday. Bin day. She has black crates, green crates, blue crates and a grey wheelie bin. Oh yes and a black compost bag.

The problem is that she never knows what is going to be collected on any particular Thursday and the schedule does vary. So I usually find mother sitting on the stairs in the hallway with the front door wide open waiting for the refuse collectors to arrive so that she can ask them what they are collecting today. Its always a mystery to mother.

I am sure there must be a leaflet explaining the schedule  somewhere in mothers house but I have yet to find it. (Its probably in the garage :0)).

Anyway last Thursday was such a lovely day I suggested that mother sit outside and wait for the refuge collectors to which she’d replied. ‘But I might fall asleep and wake up at the rubbish dump’.

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