But here's the thing, I also think she's a f*cking jinx. "Why" I hear you ask? Well, since she came down it's been open season outside my home, and she's witnessed the whole lot.
Let me explain..
Normally things are very quiet around here, and I very rarely see any bother or trouble near my home. The street I live in has a relatively bad name for itself admiitedly, but I've not seen much to warrant it's reputation in the past.
Now, my mother for the last few years has been trying to get me to move back home to Thurso, to come back to the family and leave 'that terrible place' I'm staying in. Her reason for disliking it? She saw a news report a few years back about a murder in my street, and now thinks I'm living in the middle of war torn Beirut.
So she came down to stay while my grandmother received treatment at Aberdeen Royal Infirmary, and I think the minks in the area must have placed a call over the bongo drums that now was the best time to call open season on daft behaviour.
Within the three weeks she's been here, she's been witness to fights out in the street, me getting jumped, drunks harassing her at the local shop trying to sell her bread they've just nicked, people singing at the top of their voices at 3am.. I could go on.
So if anything this has strengthened her resolve to get me the hell out of here! I tried to explain that this kind of thing never usually happens, and that for some peculiar reason it was all kicking off only while she was here.. I was convincing her that this was the case, then one of my neighbours decided to have a 'loony toon' episode
Now, this neighbour was recently released from Cornhill Hospital, (For all those non-Aberdonians here, it's the local wacky bin) and moved back into her flat proclaiming she was cured, and was ready to re-enter society.. Well, if by 're-entering society' she meant 'launch every single possession I have out the window into the garden below', then she did a damned impressive job at it.
For three days and three nights things were randomly thrown out of her windows into the garden below. Photo albums, cutlery, jewellry, clothing, bedding, ornaments.. Nothing was safe from getting the proverbial fling. Even three phone calls to the police did nothing to stop her. They simply came round, told her to behave and drove away again. And as soon as they were out of sight, you'd hear a smash as one more ceramic pot crashed into the concrete path below.
Because of this, there was a permanent swarm of local minks hovering below her window waiting to see what they could salvage from her launched possessions, ducking flying cups and cutlery as they dug through her goods, looking for anything that might be worth a few quid in the pub later. Again we called the police, but nothing was done.
So I did what anyone else of us would have done. I shot her with a super soaker every time she opened her window to launch something out. Call it my civic duty..
So, I'm at work on Saturday night past and I get a call from my mother, who told me that the nutter had gained access to our block and was presently sitting on the staircase tearing up unclaimed copies of the Yellow Pages, and throwing the pages in the air around her. She then went outside and proceeded to empty out the contents of our flats communal bin, digging through week old cat litter and nappies for god knows what reason.
My mother called back and said that the police had been, and she had finally been taken away.
So I get home about 4am and park up the car. I'm walking toward my flat and I see the front door of the nutters block open, and out she strides launching random items of clothing around her as she walked. She sees me, and makes a beeline toward me. Stopping just in front of me she says,
"Have you got a fag? Have you got any food? What about drink, you got any drink?"
"Sorry lass, no to all of the above" says I, taking a step back in case the nutter tried to snog me or something..
"Oh, ok" and with a despondent look she stormed off toward her own front door and dissapeared inside.
So, I get into the flat and I'm getting changed out of my work clothes, when I hear a smashing sound from outside. I look, and there she was out in the street flinging pots and papers about while dragging a towel behind her. Being the quick thinking star that I am, I grabbed my digital camera and grabbed a wee bit of footage.. (See Link Below.. About 6 meg in size)
So what now? Well, as far as I know she's been taken away again, and some poor council workers in hi-vis vests had to come round and clean up all her crap at 6am on Sunday morning past..
Anyway, my mother has been up to ninety with all this drama, and I think she's planning to chloroform me and bundle me into a van. I'll probably wake up tied to a chair in my grandmothers house in Thurso!
