I love our neighbourhood – unlike most other people I know I actually know most of my neighbours for a significant amount of the street, not just to say hello to but also what they do for a living, where they’ve been on holiday etc. It’s great, in the past this has meant that when something has gone wrong or someone needs help we’ve all rallied around to do as much as we can. Apparently this can be a little strange in this day and age, but I rather like it.
Last night I was awoken at about 11:30 by shrieks from next door. Now, this isn’t the normal shrieking that I’ve kind of gotten used to hearing (thin walls make me grateful for an iPod) and they haven’t usually been accommodated by knocking on the back door. Like good neighbours we went to see what the problem was.
“There’s something under the bath and it’s moving”.
It takes a moment for the brain to register that sentence, break it down into its parts before you reach for the toolbox and say “Let’s have a look”. So, 11:30 at night you’re on your knees in your neighbours bathroom dutifully helping them take apart the bath whilst something moves from within. You pry away the cover and peer in. You see nothing.
Then a moth flies out. Admittedly it’s a bloody big moth, but a moth none the less. No one says a word as you put the bath back together.
Must have been wearing clogs or something.