The Scrivener: It Isn't Ordinary
…The people over the road don't mind. In a front garden packed with bushes and trees, they have a washing line strung between a small tree and a large bush. There's just enough sun in that area to dry the laundry. The neighbours aren't too happy about this, of course. It lowers the tone of the street. On the other hand, it's rather picturesque to see richly patterned saris and brightly coloured children's clothes hanging there, adding to the multcultural tone of the crescent…
The extraordinary adds zing and colour to everyday life, as Brian Barratt reveals.
To visit Brian’s far-from-ordinary Web site The Brain Rummager please click on
www.alphalink.com.au/~umbidas/
To read more of his columns visit
http://www.openwriting.com/archives/the_scrivener/
Writers know that nothing is "ordinary". People with their eyes open know that nothing is ordinary in the world around them. In some countries, it is standard practice to hang one's laundry on a line stretched across the alley. In the leafy suburbs of Melbourne, it is not standard practice to hang one's washing in the front garden. It certainly isn't ordinary.
The people over the road don't mind. In a front garden packed with bushes and trees, they have a washing line strung between a small tree and a large bush. There's just enough sun in that area to dry the laundry. The neighbours aren't too happy about this, of course. It lowers the tone of the street. On the other hand, it's rather picturesque to see richly patterned saris and brightly coloured children's clothes hanging there, adding to the multcultural tone of the crescent.
There was a great deal of activity in that front garden a couple of weeks ago. We were alerted by the sounds of buzzing, sawing, cracking and crunching. It seems that some of the many trees were in the wrong place. Workmen were busily dismantling them and throwing the pieces into one of those noisy machines that chops and grinds them into small flakey pieces for use as garden mulch.
Two complete trees were removed. The trunk of a third one was left standing. It leans out over the footpath. In fact, it leans over the top of the telephone cables strung from lamp post to lamp post. We're a bit behind the times here. We don't yet have underground wires and cables. Not in this crescent, anyway.
One of the TV/phone cables is attached to a wire which ensures that it doesn't snap because of tension or collapse onto the footpath. That's fine, but the cable is now broken, or snapped, or something. After the tree-slayers departed, a length of that cable was left dangling down. As the days go by, the hanging piece seems to get longer. If someone walking along the footpath reached up, they could touch it. At the same time, the overhanging tree trunk seems to be bending lower. It might even be pressing down on the phone cable.
After a week, nobody had come back to rectify the problem, so I decided to inform the City Council. I sent an e-mail message and received one of those automatic anonymous computer-generated replies saying the matter would be referred to somebody. That was a week ago. Nobody has been. Perhaps it isn't important.
The garden is now more open to sunlight. There are two clothes lines hanging between trees and bushes. There are also occasional displays of laundry draped over folding chairs placed around the lawn. Saris, children's clothes, shirts, sundry unmentionables, the whole family wash. The neighbours aren't at all happy.
It isn't ordinary, anyway.
© Copyright Brian Barratt 2010
