A cup of tea
By Geoffrey
- 2088 reads
A cup of tea
On the whole I find retirement exhausting. I get particularly tired when I have to decide which jobs to put off until tomorrow that I cant be bothered to do today. So after a hard day enduring all this stress, I’m all too ready to fall into my comfortable bed for a good night’s rest. I have a quick wriggle to settle myself into the pillows, heave a big sigh of contentment and begin to compose my mind for sleep.
Nowadays this appears to be a general signal recognised by the world at large for all hell to break loose outside my bedroom window.
I have no way of checking of course, but I am convinced that somehow the air traffic controllers at Heathrow know the exact time that I arrive at this happy state. The incredible noise made by modern low flying aircraft wakes me from whatever shallow state of sleep I have managed to achieve. After this their flashing lights parade past my window in a never-ending stream, the overall effect being rather like a slow motion thunderstorm. Thank goodness they don’t have Concorde to play with any more!
Slowly my mind becomes attuned to this cacophony but before I can sink back into a light doze the car doors start. I don’t know how car manufacturers have the cheek to advertise cars as two door, or four door models. I know for a fact that all cars have at least eight doors and none of them have been made to close properly. Loud thuds from the more expensive models or alternatively metallic crashes from old bangers punctuate the night as they are repeatedly opened and shut, accompanied by loud shouts and screams of laughter from their owners and passengers.
A variation on this theme is practised by the youth of the community who have all been deafened by the thumping base rhythms of the car radios that rattle my bedroom windows. Their method involves stopping immediately outside with the radio on full volume and opening every door in the car. The occupants then begin shouting their farewells to each other, as well as at any passing car containing their friends, who respond with happy screams and a fanfare on their hooters.
I also happen to have made the mistake of buying a house which has a pub at the end of the road. Without going into objectionable details, a large proportion of the customers who haven’t parked outside, stagger past my window. However, this can be one of the more interesting parts of the evening. Intriguing snatches of conversation can often be heard as these people pass by.
“That man she is living with now is absolutely disgusting.”
“Really? Does he beat her up when he gets drunk!”
“Oh no it’s much worse than that, do you know he actually...”
The voices fade into the distance and now frustration is added to insomnia.
Even this distraction subsides eventually and I manage to drift off into a light sleep at approximately four o’clock. I know the hour without looking at any clock, as this is always the time that the emergency services come out to test the effectiveness of their various sirens. By now the slightest creak of a floor board or the clatter of one of my cats barging his way through the cat flap in the kitchen below me is sufficient to keep me awake, nerves jangling.
Finally the sun rises and shines through the window straight into my bleary eyes. At least I now know the night is over and hopefully I might get a chance to have a nap for a couple of hours at lunchtime. Then at some hidden signal every bird in Surrey starts to sing! The smaller varieties coughing as they inhale the diesel fumes of the morning rush hour traffic now building in volume, while the larger birds have to screech more and more loudly to be heard over the increasing noise.
At last the welcome sound of my Teasmade begins to soothe my nerves and I pour my first cup of tea for the day. A couple of sips to clear my thoughts and I look out of the window to see what the weather may hold in store. The birds are carolling away merrily in the trees, a nearby black bird singing his heart out at the top of the tallest tree swaying gently in the light morning breeze. All this takes place against a background of fluffy white clouds floating gently across the clear blue sky. I finish my tea and relax listening to the happy chatter of people on their way to work, punctuated by the occasional muted clunk from a car door, whilst overhead aircraft are lacing the upper air with silent vapour trails.
I go down stairs refreshed by my drink, eager to meet the fascinating challenges of the new day.
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Comments
Hi Geoffrey, I can imagine
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It must be awful to live
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Very funny. Your stories are
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