'Sigh'....summers here

Guinness

Guinness

Nori Brick
Tackler
With apologies to Alf Tennyson…

Mine was to do or die,

A couple of yards, a couple of yards,

A couple of yards outside.

In to my back garden

Walked I.

A blasting cacophony to the right of me

A blasting cacophony to the left of me

A blasting cacophony in front of me

Into the mouth of hell

Onward into my back garden I did walk


Why do people feel the need to turn their back gardens into Glastonbury every time the bloody sun shines? Are they that Neanderthal that they are unaware of wireless earphones?

I just want to chill in my garden with a beer, maybe chat about my day without having to listen to the battle of the bands from surrounding neighbours, who for some reason imagine that I'd be remotely interested in their musical tastes...roll on the rain!

Yours truly,
Grumpy
 
They just want to let you know that their taste in music is questionable.
My dislikes of sitting outside to chill are.
The stink of cannabis drifting on the breeze.
The smell of charred meat….from barbecues.
Drunken raucous laughter late in the evening when they are sat round the fire pit drinking beer….smoking cannabis…..followed by the sound of shrieks and swearing when a punch up evolves.
It used to be such a pleasant place to live.(sigh)
 
Guinness said:
With apologies to Alf Tennyson…

Mine was to do or die,

A couple of yards, a couple of yards,

A couple of yards outside.

In to my back garden

Walked I.

A blasting cacophony to the right of me

A blasting cacophony to the left of me

A blasting cacophony in front of me

Into the mouth of hell

Onward into my back garden I did walk



Yours truly,
Grumpy
Click to expand...

Forty Leagues, Forty Leagues, Forty Leagues onward, into the valley of death rode the six hundred, Cannons to the right of them, Cannons to the left of them, cannons in front of them the valiant six hundred.
(I still prefer the original). I't's a shame that we cannot call on them today in order to teach Comrade Putred Putin a lesson
 
My apologies, but this thread has made me feel all poetical and so I couldn’t help but string a few lines together, just for fun. Here goes:

The Joys of Summer.

I love the summer and the warmth of the sun,
The flowers that are growing, me outside having fun.
The sweet sounds of nature, the birds as they sing
The peace, the tranquility, it beats anything.
A seat on the porch enjoying the view
Something to eat like a good barbecue.
A nice glass of wine, or a cold glass of beer
Makes me contented and glad that I’m here.

Who am I kidding, flies think I’m their bed
They land on my skin while mosquitoes are fed.
Loud music is played but not to my taste
Cars speed up the street in a terrible haste.
A bee tries to sting me with its dangerous dagger
But then it drops into my wine with a stagger.
My efforts to escape it have brought no success
I knock over my drink and am now in a mess.
Some kids up the street scream they want to be fed
Oh! blast, now a bird has just crapped on my head.
Very loud mowers are doing their stuff
I might go inside ‘cause enough is enough.
 
Don't know what you lot are complaining about, when me & my mates are out on the terrase, playing loud music, incinerating anything possible on the BBQ, drinking loads & getting rowdy late into the night, there's never anyone about around us. :D:D:D
 
I’m glad you liked my little effort Margaret, but as you know in actual fact I do love the summer and I enjoy the very warm (even hot) days. I spend a lot of time in the outdoors making the most of the sunshine. I can’t say I like the flies that swarm in on a mission to invade the food and the blood-sucking mossies that seem to think they have a right to bite. But otherwise…..
 
Dave, you are the sort of neighbour we should all have. I bet life is never boring for you and your mates. You know how to enjoy yourselves, which is as it should be. Here’s cheers, Dave.
 
The only way not to get complaints from neighbours when you have a back yard barbecue party is….invite them all over.
No one ever complains of the loud music or the raucous laughter when they are dancing to it and drinking the beer.
 
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