The Killing Joke

The mattock. The Hammerite. The red overalls. The brown straw hat. Birdsong and the the sound of the river rilling. Mint and fennel on the air where someone has trodden them down in passing. Poster colour yellow Oxalis carpeting the slopes and pouring down in to the olive grove. Tiny blue and orange vetch peering out from behind the burr clover and the twitch grasses.

Two overall clad men are rubbing down a bench readying it for Hammerite and Gorri - the dust rising in the northerly breeze that keeps them cool. Two Irish terriers lazing on the decking in the sunshine their coats long but well kempt. A lone figure with a mattock, her back toward us, an old brown hat slouched jauntily to the left, works around a bottlebrush tree clearing weeds and retying the boughs. Finished she moves on to uncover the patch of mint that she is encouraging to spread out into the lawn (no lawnmower here though - the philosopher De Selby would never approve).

The real twins are lounging, as is their wont, chattering and soaking up the warmth of a warming day. gazing up toward Kastellos. They are discussing their favourite quote of the year from Laughing John Tierney. John's wit is dry and almost without exception is delivered in a total deadpan. During the aftermath of hurricane Katrina, when civil society was collapsing around the very lugs of it's remaining, abandoned inhabitants The Boss says to John "Things are looking pretty bad in New Orleans, John, what do you think?". John, "It's gonna be OK you know - I heard today that there's a planeload of experts being flown out from Liverpool to help out with the looting." Deadpan. Not even a hint of a trace of a smirk.

The woman next door takes her dog out "for a walk". "For a walk" is a euphemism for "to use the road as a toilet". She regularly loiters by Betty the DS hoping against hope that she can persuade the recalcitrant hound to crap beside our car. They have three dogs and often one of them will oblige. Between them they are turning the road into a dog toilet - which is nice. After all isn't the countryside just one large animal toilet?

The Guv'nor takes a stroll to the bins at the end of the road to deposit a bag of dog crap, which is collected as soon as it is deposited, from the girls' run. This stuff will not easily compost. Takes all sorts I suppose.