Mr B and I do possess, I must admit, a strong streak of curiosity. Or, to put it another way, we are just Plain Nosey.
I think I have explained this before, but our kitchen
window is at the front of our house, looking out onto the street where we live. It is quite the best set up for Nosey Parkers like us. I have become more of a Nosey Parker since I retired. When every morning was a dash about, getting showered and dressed,
gulping down a bit of breakfast and heading out to the car, the commute and, at the end of the morning trail, the office - there wasn't a lot of time to spend gazing out at the world just beyond the garden wall. Mr B, already retired some years before me,
did seek to enliven our conversations over our evening meal with details of the goings-on he had witnessed but it wasn't quite the same. Now, however, it is a whole new Ball Game.
Yesterday was a Splendid
Day for the Long-nosed. Across the road to us, Something Was Definitely Going On. A banner bearing the single word "WELCOME" had been strung across the front door and at least ten motor cars, mostly swish types with extremely loud engines, were engaged in
driving up and down the road outside at the highest speed possible, given the road bumps which decorate the length of our street. The fact that one of the cars was a stretch limo, festooned with white ribbon, gave us a clue that this was a wedding party. That's
the thing about being nosey, you know, you become quite extraordinarily perceptive, though I say it myself as shouldn't.
Being a romantic, I was a trifle disappointed not to see the bride. The wedding party
across the road was totally male. They all, indeed, looked super smart but I do like the sight of a bridal gown - or even a bridesmaid or two. Still, there was plenty to see from our kitchen window. I spent a lot of time washing up, so as to be sure not to
Among the party were two photographers with what appeared to be quite a bit of professional kit, including cameras on wheels, all the better to catch action shots of the cars revving up, speeding
over the speed bumps, and swerving wildly as they braked on their return along the road. Yes, that's right, the whole emphasis was on capturing the sleekness of the cars, their getaway speed, their startling acceleration and their screeching brakes. A good
hour was spent lining up three of the cars at a time for their photo call.
Now correct me if I am wrong but I suspect the bride may have something to say when she and her beloved come to view their wedding
photographs. I can imagine the scene: bride and groom, recently returned from their honeymoon, meet in a photographer's studio somewhere and sit before a screen to see a filmshow of their wedding pics. The first 500 depict cars speeding up and down our road.
If the Happy Couple look very carefully they will catch a glimpse of Mr B, staring out balefully from our porch and me, framed in the kitchen window with my hands in the wash basin. I cannot imagine Mrs New Wife will be all that pleased.
It wouldn't be the first time that I inadvertently found myself in someone else's wedding photos. Some years ago, Mr B and I were on holiday in a really rather lovely hotel in Sorrento.
It was my holiday habit (and one which stays with me to this day) to spend time every day in the hotel pool, swimming painfully slowly up and down until I had completed the number of lengths I had previously set myself (this prescribed number has decreased
over the years though the time I spend in the pool miraculously remains about the same which says a lot about my declining speed through the water.)
On this particular occasion I was swimming up and down,
in a World Of My Own, when I became aware that a beautiful bride and her charming groom were parading along the edge of the pool, gazing lovingly into each other's eyes. On the opposite side of the pool, a wedding photographer, recording the happy scene. In
the midst of all this, there was me, a drowned rat slowly traversing the pool. A blot on the Happy Landscape.
Somewhere in June this year a couple will be celebrating their wedding anniversary and revisiting
their wedding photo album. "Who IS that woman in the pool?" they will be asking each other, as they have done every year since they were first married. I can only apologise.
I promise them it was simply a
A Nosey Parker? Not me...