8.30 this morning a pair of waggons
full of scaffolding pull up outside our house.
"Are you having another extension done and not told me?" says Fester humorously.
I wonder aloud which of our
neighbours it is for.
Then two lads wander up our drive to the back of the house so out I go to see
what's occurring. They are standing by the garage looking at the back of the
house and a smartphone.
"Umpteen Manor Grove?" says one.
"Yeas" I reply cautiously.
"We've come to do a job for Newcastle City
council."
"This is North Tyneside."
Puzzled look.
"Newcastle starts at the end of this street."
More puzzled looks; at me, the house and into the smartphone, which is also subject to some finger jabbing
I'm forever getting mail for whoever lives in
Denton: but a load of scaffolding is a different matter.
The thing is we come first alphabetically so if she
just gives her street name, without the postcode or suburb, our postcode comes
up first on any listing (including presumably Google maps).
Thank goodness we were in and not away on holiday; coming home to a load of unexpected scaffolding would have been fun.
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