A few months ago, we moved into our house in Sidcup and, of course, there have been various bits of rubbish from the house, attic and garden to throw away. The problem was: where to find a kindly refuse disposal officer who would take it.
We asked around and found our new neighbours also had a fair amount of objects which needed moving. So it was arranged that four of us would share the expense of hiring a skip, which would be delivered at the end of our garden and stay there over the weekend.
The delivery was quite a nerve-racking effort; to begin with the man driving the container machine tried to bring the whole lot through the side road backwards. Not easy as almost all the on-looking gardens have wooden fences, and these were all but demolished by thge moving mass which was wider than the driver had imagined.
After 20 minutes, he changed his mind, drove out to the main road and headed for the long land opposite our houses. He backed along the lane, gently taking odd leaves and branches with him, and after an hour’s pruning he lowered the the skip on to the intended place, then he went home for “a quick nervous breakdown”.
That skip was a magnet for people to gather at, especially the men. They leaned on its sides and talked about their boyhood memories; they gazed into its depths in silence as though it were a crystal globe.
Next-door-left picked out the bricks that next-door-right didn’t want and took them home, while next-door-right threw away an old fridge which Mr J opposite found most useful
By Monday morning the skip was full of carpet pieces, radios, half and empty beehive and other bits, and the neighbours enjoyed a good gossip.
Now we are planning to help build next-door-but-two’s garage!
© A Craig 1982
Tales From Sunnyside House 