Sunday 11 March 2012
At 08:20, from my bedroom window, I see a dark-haired young woman in a pink dressing-gown walk out of the back door of number 32, and go to hang out some washing on her washing-line. I don’t have a view of her doing that, because number 32 has a very large shed that shares a roof with the garage at the rear of the Goldsteins’ house — but I can see the washing-line quivering. While the young woman is outdoors, I see her partner (wearing street clothes) emerge from the same door, disappear to somewhere or other, and then return indoors.
At the front corner of the Goldsteins’ house, the heap of scrap wood is still there; at Mrs AD’s mother’s house, the big plant-pot has been righted again.
After lunch, for the first time in 2012, I mow the lawns — all four of them. Mr CJ has, for a while already, been busy in his back garden.
I pick a dozen of the daffodils and take them to Mrs CJ. We have a chat on the doorstep; I decline her offer to come in, explaining that I am too sweaty from having mowed the lawns. She tells me that Mr CJ has been suffering with bronchitis.
On my previous visit to Peakville, I didn’t visit Mr & Mrs CJ: first I heard someone coughing next door (that was Mrs CJ, she now tells me); then I heard the grandsons; and finally I saw Mrs CJ’s washing on the line — but it started to rain, and I was expecting her to dash out and bring the washing in as soon as the rain stopped. The rain didn’t stop, and the washing stayed out — Mrs CJ now tells me that it is her policy to leave the washing out if it starts raining.
[Original posting 11 March 2013]