I've decided that rather then bore you with musings on my own life I thought I’d inform you of my uninformed opinions about the house across the road…

                        

By way of disclaimer, it is worth saying that everything I write here is inferred through my own observations, I have never spoken to the people in question, nor have they any idea who I am… And although I hope to be accurate in some of my thoughts and suggestions…to all intents and purposes everything I write is fabrication!

I became aware of the house across the road when Roy came to cut down the front hedge… Roy is my landlords, drain fixing, hedge cutting, four sugars in his tea drinking, jack of all trades, handyman...a character himself but not the focus of this blog.  The hedge was a huge, overgrown monstrosity of a thing, indistinguishly brown and green it blocked any natural light from flooding our naturally dingy living room.  Its removal was a pleasant surprise alone, however, there was a deliciously delightful and unexpected side-effect… revealed to across this broken Sheffield street was “the house across the road!”

An entity of itself… the house and its inhabitance, its existence and happenings have since been the conversation of our living room more far more frequently then is healthy, and as certain conclusions have been reached, now it is time to share them with the world.

So who are the players? Today, I will talk about Mick. Mick (the name which I've given him), is an elderly, retired gentleman. Often seen moving from upstairs window to upstairs window making sure they are securely shut, then donning his cycling shorts (or occasionally leggings) he goes for… a walk. He is the head of the household, steadfast and true… but nothing without the lady always by his side….Sue (but we can talk about her another day).

At this very moment its raining… and they’ve left their Velux roof window open.