The old guy next door has about a dozen chickens but they seem to prefer my garden to his.
I live in a council house on a genuinely nice estate in Chesterfield. I have lived here for about 2 years with my fiancé and our two young sons.
The gardens are long and in a state of disrepair. They were so overgrown when we moved in that, it was about six weeks before I realised that my garden was shorter by half than anyone else’s. When I investigated this I realised that the old guy next door had commandeered half of my garden and annexed it to his! When I approached him about it he explained in broad Yorkshire:
“ Na then, sithee…A took it int war tha noes, te turn it over wi potatoes see.”
“Oh that explains everything! So sorry to have bothered you.” Retorted I.
“Er… can I have it back then?” I asked gingerly.
“Oh arr.” Said the old guy.
And so it went… I ended up wading through brambles and stinging nettles to stake out the boundary of my land which only had the effect of clearing a lovely space for his chickens. But that’s for tomorrow, got to get the boys in bed.
