Last weekend a whole gang of chavs moved into the house next door. I'll hold back on being judgemental and see how things pan out as under their track-suited exteriors, they may be gentle and kind hearted.
Four days on and I'm already losing patience. The children have been running around until 11.30pm, they've got televisions playing in most rooms and seem not to have off switches. Whilst in my garden, one little oik climbed onto a flat roof and shouted "Oi!" to/at me. Really nice. Of course, the obligatory dogs; they're kept in a cage upstairs and bark and whine for hours on end - I would feel a whole lot better if these children were bundled in with them.
I really did want to go round, say hello and welcome them to our little corner of The Shire, but I just don't see the point. Is there any point?
Already I'm dreading Summer as I envisage garden raves and loud music long into the early hours. Oh what joy, it'll be like living in a Mike Leigh film.
Having nice neighbours is so bleedin' under-rated.
Any advice gratefully received.