Tuesday, 10 May 2011

Census time ...

That late night knock on the door ...

Its the lady from statistics, and she wants to interrogate me about the house and its occupants.

What made it fun, was that its a neighbour, who has avoided all eye contact for years. Never a word spoken - I had a cloak of invisibility, I did not exist.

Now it seems she knows all the neighbours business - smart move getting the local neighbourhood.

How old is the house ?

I could tell "I do not know, i was not born, i only rebuilt it" clearly was not going to be the right answer ...

Actually she was charming, understood a little about me and why i was here. I think its been the old xenophobia creeping in, but she was good fun and made a tough job easy translating everything for us ...


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