Pinky's Book Link

Monday, April 14, 2014

L- is for Looking Out My Bedroom Window.

A to Z April Challenge

The weather was a bit wild and woolly on Saturday night. “Look!” I said to Scotto on Sunday morning. “It’s been raining!”

Overnight our property value had doubled with glorious water views unexpectedly thrown into the equation.

Unbeknownst to us, Cyclone Ita had paid a visit but fortunately our only casualty was a bread board blown into the sink in the kitchen.

Just like Mrs Mangel, I spend a considerable amount of time peeking through my bedroom blinds snooping on the comings and goings outside Chez Poinker.


On the weekend I stick my nose through the slats in order to discover how many teenagers have spent the night. The number of P plated cars parked out the front is a dead give-away.

Before there is even a single painful knock on the door I can spot the Foxtel salesman trudging up the path with a determined look on his dial. The soon to be thwarted salesman that is; outfoxed by an indisposed Pinky hiding in her bedroom, muffling her psychotic laughter and pretending no one is home.

I observe underhanded members of the public drive up beside the council bin opposite the house. They get out of the car solicitously checking no one is around to witness them throwing a huge bag of stinking prawn shells in the bin, unaware that Pinky Mangels is watching their every move.

One day as Scotto and I lay on the bed trawling the Internet on our laptops (that’s not a euphemism), we observed a criminal act going down right in front of our house.

A car pulled up containing a group of feral looking teenage boys (not actually related to Pinky for a change) and one of the boys climbed out carrying a dodgy plastic bag. 

He looked around discretely, clearly checking there were no eyewitnesses to whatever it was he was about to do.

“’Ello, ‘ello, ‘ello,” said Scotto putting on his best impersonation of a copper from The Bill. “What’s this joker up to then?”

The young ruffian walked towards the grassy river bed and deposited the mystery bag underneath a bush then coolly wandered back up to the car, jumped in and drove off with his Neanderthal beanie-wearing mates.

“Ermahgerd!” I squealed at Scotto. “That was highly suspicious, Scotto! What do you think that was about?”

“I don’t know,” replied my manly man husband. “But I’m going to check it out!”

“Nooooo!” I begged him, clinging to his ankles as he shuffled towards the bedroom door. “What if it’s a bomb and it blows up in your face?”

“It’s not a bomb, Pinky,” a transformed Jason Bourne avowed, “I’ll be back.” 

Gawking through the blinds in trepidation I watched my fearless hero wearing his macho gardening gloves (with the yellow tulips) swagger across the road and delicately retrieve the item of interest.

                                         Image Credit

It was spray paint… about $200 worth of fluorescent spray paint. It was too much paint for the purpose of the sickening habit of sniffing but enough to paint our entire suburb red, so to speak.

In true Mangel style we called the police who came and collected it.

All I can say to our neighbours is this...

The Poinkers are here to fight for truth, and justice, and the Australian way. We have your backs Australia.

I believe there's a hero in all of us, that keeps us honest, gives us strength, makes us noble, and finally allows us to die with pride, even though sometimes we have to be steady, and give up the thing we want the most. Even that third glass of Chardy.

Whatever life holds in store for me, I will never forget these words: ‘With great power comes great responsibility.’ This is my gift, my curse. Who am I? I'm...’ve stopped reading haven’t you?

Hello? Anyone there?


Linking up with Kirsty at My Home Truths 
and Emily at Laugh Link

I Must Confess