Time flies like a bananaman

Bananaman has gone. Our elderly neighbour opposite is now an ex-neighbour, and we’re not entirely sure what’s happened. It all happened so gradually that it’s been hard to know exactly when to mention it: not just here, but to anyone.

The crisis (whatever it was) must have happened around the time that we were coping with our hellish journey through the snow, to see my parents over Christmas. A few weeks after we returned, we realised that he was no longer getting visitors, especially the occasional non-emergency ambulance that would sometimes park on the corner (in retrospect, not a great sign.) Builders came and went, and eventually a “for sale” sign went up. Certainly by the time the 2011 census happened, the house was utterly empty, with newly painted rooms visible through curtainless windows.

Being absent and stressed when whatever happened, happened; and there being considerable confusion over precisely who in the street is actually related to him: we’ve been somewhat reticent in asking around to work out whether he’s been moved into a home, or in with family, or whatever it was. Now, of course, it’s too late, and it would look odd, given that we think one of his relatives might have helped us make our car roadworthy before Christmas. Especially if we accidentally referred to him as “Bananaman” during whatever stilted conversation we struck up.

And now the “for sale” sign is recently down, which is what prompted this post. The last few sketches of his presence there are being erased. Someone is poised to move in and, despite the pre-sale redecoration, seems to be tearing the interior of the house to pieces. The work is sufficiently traumatic to the street’s infrastructure that our broadband has suddenly started being unreliable, roughly correlating with when noise is heard from across the road. We’ve had to ask the provider to increase noise filtering on the line. But more about that later.

Goodbye, Bananaman. We hope that you left our street under reasonably hopeful circumstances. And that you’re still getting plenty of vitamin B6, potassium and fibre.

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This entry was posted in body, buildings, decor, health, infirmity, location, neighbours, person. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Time flies like a bananaman

  1. looby says:

    Hmmm. I feel the uPvC virus might be upon this house.

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