MY NEIGHBOURS... THEY KNOW

I’m not going to write about Donald Trump. What’s the point? I was pretty certain he was going to win, despite what the supposed experts said. Here and in America I think too many on the Left have become overly condescending, overly preachy, and they’ve completely lost touch with the concerns of ordinary people over the past decade. All it has done is drive them into the arms of the extreme right.

I called it out in a post on Digi2000 way, way, back in the day when Gamergate was happening. But anyway. Too depressing to focus on.

So, down our road there’s been a bit of drama recently.

Apparently, a house a few doors from us is being turned into a children’s home. We’ve no idea how – we don’t exactly have mansions down our cul-de-sac. But a few weeks back some neighbours came round to ask us to sign a petition opposing it. Sanja answered the door and didn’t want to sign straight away, but she took their literature and said she’d think about it.

Then a little while later someone from said children’s home knocked at the door and this time I answered. She was very nice, said they wouldn’t be any bother, and gave me a big bag of sweets (no: she really did), and that was enough for me.

Then last night neighbours called again and told us about their concerns, and wanting us to be part of their campaign. I mean, I'm a bit irritated the council never told us about any of this, but whatever.

CARE

So, I’ve got some history with kids in care. My mum started fostering when I was about 11, and two of the kids she looked after I still consider my sisters.

The first place I lived in after I left home was a council flat, which happened to be beneath a flat owned by social services – who used it as a halfway house for teenagers who had just left care. It was… a nightmare. Constant, nightclub-level music, having our milk stolen, fireworks thrown into our garden.

We begged the council to get us moved, and ended up having to write to counsellors, the local paper etc. – and eventually, after 18 months, they listened. 

Now… that leaves me in a weird position whereby I’ve a ton of sympathy for kids in care… but also a ton of sympathy for people who live next door to kids in care. I honestly don’t know how I feel about it: I suspect we’re far enough away from the home that it won’t bother us… but I know if the place was right next door to me I’d be freaking out.

Anyway. That’s not what this is about, and I don’t even know whether or not I want to be part of their campaign.

So… the neighbours asked last night if they could add me to their Whatsapp group. I didn’t really want to be added– not least because they said the group is also just so we can chat and be friendly with one another, which is my idea of a nightmare – but I was on the spot. They asked for my number there and then… and added me to their group.

Anyway. This afternoon I get a message from one of my neighbours asking if “Mr Biffo” is on the electoral register so that he can also complain to the council.

How does he know!? How does he know about Mr Biffo?! What else does he know?! I’m too freaked out to ask! Does he know about Digi?! About Beanus? I don’t want him to know about any of it! He didn’t even give me a bag of sweets!

I’m clearly going to have to move house. This is awful.