What a weekend. The police raided our house early on Sunday morning. They were looking for someone who left almost a year ago. They came in numbers. There were 4 males & 1 female. I wonder what he was wanted for. I didn’t like him but I didn’t think he was a criminal. Probably he had more good points than bad. You never see a policeman walking the streets in our area; they tend to race around in cars. They came in force on Sunday morning. They seemed quite friendly. They were dressed extremely sharply . In fact I wondered if they might be hoods, in some protection racket maybe or drug dealers. They showed me their ID. But I didn’t examine it closely. It could been anything; membership of a club or something. Four of them. I wonder what he has done.
Just before I went away on holiday, I ordered a book online. I don’t do that very often. When I came back, it wasn’t there. In fact I only remembered after a day or 2. It turns out that it had arrived in the meantime but that someone who lives in the house had stolen it. No, I don’t understand it either.
My DAB radio died on Friday night. It may be that it wouldn’t have taken much to repair it but I bought another one anyway. It took me two or three hours to programme in the pre-sets & put in the alarm. Sometimes technology is just so disappointing. One of the problems with technology is that much isn’t in the handbook or that the instructions are ambiguous. I am fairly good with new technology & I can well understand that older people can’t get to grips with it.
Monday morning, some cups fell on the floor, after the door to the next room had been slammed, breaking on a glass jar on the floor in which I kept pens & breaking the top of the jar as well. I put my foot on a piece of broken glass. There was blood everywhere. However after I had cleaned it up, I found that in fact that the wound was quite small. It is painful walking but I heal quite quickly & hopefully this time next week I will no longer be limping.
Cricklewood is a tasty area. I have now lived here for 4 years. I have lived in one room no bigger than a prison cell, smaller in fact but only I live there. The other people who live in the house go to bed after I have got up & sometimes make a lot of noise all night.
After 4 years, I somehow think the time to move on has come.