some old bullshit

Grand Designs on my Stuff

Construction seemed to be going well. Just from staring out of my kitchen window I could see everything seemed to be on track. When I’d left for work in the morning work had not even commenced but looking out of the kitchen window I saw the building was nearly complete. Just the roof to go. It was a hell of a shed. More Huf Haus than shed. They’d fair thrown it up. 

My wife came and stood next to me and we both looked out of the kitchen window. “You’re going to have to say something,” she told me. I didn’t reply although I knew she was right. “It’s not right,” she added and I scratched my forehead. “Go on,” she urged. I looked at her, she was serious and so I went out the back door and across the path. The knocking of the cement mixer was loud and with all the builders in hard hats it was hard to pick out Adam. Eventually I found him. He was studying blueprints.

“Hey, Adam!” I said. He looked up from the plans and nodded at me.

“You okay?” He asked but I could tell he was busy and didn’t have time for chit-chat.

“Fine,” I said. “This is looking good,” I shouted and nodded appreciatively at the massive shed that was taking shape. Adam pushed me aside, for my own safety. Ropes around me were being tensioned as the men in Caterpillar branded yamakas pulled the roof trusses upright. 

Adam was shouting at another man. I stood there next to him and waited for him to finish shouting. “The thing is-” I managed before Adam cut me off. He did this by lowering the plans he was holding, huffing, and staring at me. ”It’s not even me, my wife told me-“

“This isn’t a good time,” said Adam gesturing at all the work taking place.

“No, I appreciate that it’s just-” Adam moved me again, I was still in the way. “It’s just that, well, this is my garden.” I watched the roof take shape and then risked a glance at Adam. He was staring at me as I knew he would be. “It’s… well, yeah, it’s my garden.”

“Excuse me?” Said Adam. He was being difficult.

“Just saying, you’re building in my garden. This is totally my garden. That’s your garden,” I said pointing to the place where this morning there had been a fence separating our gardens. The fence had mostly gone.

“Do you know the persecution-” He began but it was my turn to cut him off. I’d heard his persecution story a bunch of times. I first heard when he started parking his Mercedes outside my front door. It’s a hell of a story, though, with trains and guns.

“No, I know, rough times, but come on. It’s my garden.”

“How is it your garden exactly?” Adam asked. Again we’d been through this when I found him and his family in my paddlypool.

“Well I bought it,” I told him. “It’s in the deeds, it’s my garden.”

“Deeds again,” he snorted.


“Were the deeds written by God?” He asked.

“No,” I sighed.

“Do you wish I was dead in a gas chamber?”

“No,” I sighed.

“So what is it you do want?”

“I just-“

“Don’t hit me!” Adam screamed, cowering behind the plans. He does that. Screams ‘don’t hit me,’ at random.

“I wasn’t-“

“Oi vey, make up your mind already,” said Adam.

“Just… I just don’t want you building in my garden,” I said weakly. It sounded like a ridiculous complaint when said out loud.

“Fine,” huffed Adam. “No more building in your garden.” Despite still holding the blue prints he almost did air quotes when he said the word your.

“So…” I said. He looked at me. I looked at the new building and then back to him.

“Well that’s there now, isn’t it?” He asked. I looked at it. It was there. I could not argue with that.

“No more though, yeah?” I asked after a few more moments of looking at the shed. Adam didn’t reply, he was shouting at men again. I gave him a thumbs up, he nodded and I headed back towards the kitchen. 

“What did he say?” asked my wife once I was inside.

“Oh, it’s okay,” I said and we both gazed out of the kitchen window.

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