Robin Watch (3)

Yesterday I received this email:

Where’s Robin?

Good question.

Robin has spent most of the hot weather walking around with a pair of saggy shorts hanging perilously below his bare beer belly. He has also been sporting a bit of black string round his ankle which is either a fashion statement or a sign that he belongs to some religious sect I’ve never heard of and don’t care about. As he is very fair he has still to tan, preferring instead a delicate shade of pale cerise.

More interestingly though, he has been engaging in some guerrilla gardening. In the vague vicinity of my flat there is a small car park, which is one of those you find in residential areas where The Youth hang out in the evening kicked rubbish around, and foxes hang out at night kicking rubbish around. This small car park is only remarkable in that it has the most tumbliest down wall of any car park anywhere. I don’t know whether there is a particular (male) driver who keeps bumping into the wall but everyday another part of it is laying across the pavement in a state of disrepair and despair. Then two old Irish blokes come along and argue loudly whilst they fix it. On reflection I think maybe it is the old Irish blokes who knock it do to keep themselves in stout money and also to provide a forum for healthy debate about QPR.

Anyway, inside the car park wall there is a flower bed. It’s much improved recently because Robin has planted sunflowers all along it. They are growing like triffids which is reasonably scary but I’m trying not to worry too much as I can’t believe that even if sunflower did grow to seven foot, uproot themselves and start traipsing around Willesden Green they wouldn’t be too malevolent anyway. So, in a couple of weeks, possibly days, we’ll have nice sunflowers peeping over the top of the wall, or through the hole in the wall, and that will improve the quality of everyone’s lives no end (please note I can’t make that sound anything other than sarcastic, but it’s not meant to be). Robin got his friend Buckethead (they insist this is his name but I'm sure it’s Clifford) from Canada to help by carrying the watering can.

Robin has been guerrilla gardening for a while apparently. He planted daffodils around the bottoms of all the trees along the street, which was very nice. And he, and some friends, made a small community garden a while ago, but the evil fascist council dug it up and caused a small local rebellion.

So, Robin has been very busy. Thank you for emailing, Marvin458. Are you a Martian? I hope so.