Looking through some old papers with a view to tidying up I found some more old letters from times gone by. These were letters I had written to people in authority in response to their stupid letters in the first place.
Let me explain.
I lived in London at the time; in a fairly well to do area. The Local Authorities in that place had decided that no one should have bonfires in their gardens in order to protect the environment and save the planet. They did not explain who they were saving the planet from? Are Martians or outer space aliens attracted by garden bonfires like moths are attracted by light per chance? Or are we to be invaded by extra-terrestrial moths?
The Local Authorities wanted people to gather all the twigs and branches from cutting and pruning their trees, and put them in plastic bags and take them to the re-cycling centre some five miles away. They obviously omitted to think that all these plastic bags and the driving 10 miles there and back was more harmful to the environment than burning the twigs.
Anyway, this ruling did not bother me much since I had a small garden with no trees. Any dead leaves from the few bushes were gathered up and thrown over the fence for the neighbours to deal with.
I was young at the time with many friends and we gathered at weekends in summer and have barbecues and garden parties.
Now barbecues make smoke, and smoke is banned apparently. Any smoke. So a neighbour complained to the Authorities and I got a letter advising me to stop burning garden refuse since it is against the local laws and by-laws as outlined in Section 73, Paragraph 24, sub-paragraph G2, of the Local Authorities Rules, Laws and By-Laws Manual, which can be consulted in any library or by calling at the Local Authorities Offices between the hours of 9:00 am and 4:30 pm Mondays to Fridays.
I wrote back explaining that I had no intention of checking the by-laws afore-mentioned since I am sure they are as stated in the letter signed by someone who obviously cannot write since his signature looks more like a drunken chicken scratching the paper rather than a proper name of someone with a modicum of intelligence that allowed him to express themselves in joined-up writing. However, be that as it may, I explained that I was not burning garden refuse but burning various meats which is a ritual performed by religious people dating back to the Old Testament which can be consulted in any church or good bookshop.
They wrote back threatening to take me to Court. So from then on, whenever I had a party, I erected a large canvass tent in my garden and put the barbecue therein. The nosey neighbours with nothing better to do could not phone the Authorities since they could not actually see me burning anything or causing smoke to pollute Britain and the world.
On another occasion, still in the same London house, we had the mother-in-law visiting for a few days which lasted some five weeks. She had the habit of washing her under garments and hang them on a line outside her window to dry. Unfortunately my mother-in-law was somewhat rotund and her underpants were so enormous that they covered up the sun.
You've guessed it. There was a by-law in that particular part of London which stipulated that no residents will hang their clothes to dry in a place that is easily visible from the street. My mother-in-law stayed in our guest room which was at the front. I certainly was not going to give up our bedroom at the back for her. And our garden was too small for her to hang her underpants there.
We received a letter from the Local Authorities pointing out our offence under Paragraph blah blah blah of their By-Laws manual.
I replied that this was not underwear drying on a washing line but it was in fact the flag of my country.
They wrote back asking what country.
I wrote back it's "Pantsland"!
They wrote saying there is no such country.
I wrote back saying there is and I gave them my address as the location of such country.
They wrote back saying it is not a recognised country.
I wrote back saying it will be when it is recognised by the United Nations to which I have just applied for recognition.
They wrote back saying if my address is a country what is the Capital of such country.
I wrote back saying "the toilet" because that is where my throne is and they can visit me on my throne by private audition only.
They ignored my facetious remark and asked what is the population of my country Pantsland.
I replied that currently it was three, my wife, my mother-in-law and I; but the population is likely to rise when my mother-in-law leaves since her bedroom is next door to ours and is not conducive to the business of increasing the nation's population.
They ignored my comments again and threatened to take me to Court if I did not desist from hanging women's underpants and bras from my front window. Presumably they did not mind if I hung my own pants and bras.
Anyway, by this time my mother-in-law had left us to go to her home up North and we got busy increasing Pantsland's population.
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UBI CARITAS ET AMOR. DEUS IBI EST.
UBI CARITAS ET AMOR. DEUS IBI EST.
Monday, 20 January 2020
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Which goes to show one is really not as free as one thinks they are. I guess eventually you put out a whole bunch of flags. :)
ReplyDeleteIt's true, Manny. In some areas of London, (and other cities), people are not allowed to hang washing on a line if it can be seen from the street. Where I live, the front garden wall, (i.e. the borderline of my property), cannot be higher than 18 inches, whether it is brick, or a hedge. It should be cut at 18" high and kept at that height.
DeleteGod bless.
I am so glad I had nothing in my mouth as I read this. Thanks for the chuckle this morning Victor.
ReplyDeleteIt's true, Bill. All true. Would I lie to a pastor?
DeleteGod bless.
Giggles a'plenty!
ReplyDeleteIt's a wonder mankind survived as long as it has before the Authorities penned these absurd regulations.
You'd be surprised, Mevely, how many regulations we have. For example, to dispose of trash/rubbish.
DeleteWe have a black wheelie bin for general rubbish/trash.
An orange one for re-cycling material, - Newspapers, papers, envelopes, plastic bottles, cardboard. BUT NO GLASS - bottles and jars should be taken to the re-cycle centre which is about 2 miles away. If you have no car - bad luck.
And a green bin for garden refuse - grass cuttings, twigs, leaves and branches. BUT NO vegetables such as carrots and potato peelings, leaves from cabbage, cauliflower or lettuce which you do not want or other vegetables from your kitchen like green beans or other peelings like apple and pear peelings.
Offenders against these rules are fined heavily.
It's all under Paragraph blah blah blah of the blah blah blah rules and conditions of living.
God bless.
Absolutely hilarious, Victor! Living in a place where there is a homeowners' association that has nothing better to do than to enforce their lame laws is the pits. Our clothesline is in our backyard, but I'm sure folks next door and in the apartments behind us have had an ample view of some unmentionables drying out there over the years. And I could care less - lol!
ReplyDeleteBlessings!
That's the problem, Martha. Some rules seem to have no reason behind them. What does it matter if people have washing drying in the back garden? Or in my case, the wall at the front garden, by the sidewalk, i.e. the borderline of my property, should not be higher than 18 inches. This applies to the whole street so that when you drive down the street all front gardens are visible, and the houses. No one is hidden behind a high wall or hedge, or fence.
DeleteSome streets do not allow you to have a caravan, (like a Winnebago), parked in your OWN front drive because it lowers the tone of the area. The same applies if you have a business van. So what happens if you are say, a self-employed plumber or electrician, and your van has your name printed on it. Where do you park it at night?
It seems to me we have too many people busy making rules and spending tax payers money doing it.
God bless.
That is why our house is out of town and up in the woods!! : )
ReplyDeleteYep ... no one to see your washing on the line.
DeleteGod bless.
❤️
ReplyDeleteGod bless.
DeleteThe city where my sister lives has a legal document that they had to sign when they bought their home. No laundry could be hung out to dry, it was a neighborhood committee that made the law. I always thought that was crazy and glad I didn't live in such a place. Your story takes it to another level, Victor but I don't know which one. :)
ReplyDeleteWell, at the time I did check, Bill. There was no regulation saying I cannot hang the flag of my country from my window. And my mother-in-law's knickers were the right shape and size too for Pantsland.
DeleteI hope the story made you smile. God bless.
At least, by the time you had been back and forth with all of the letters, the laundry had ceased to be an issue!
ReplyDeleteExactly ... that's what happened.
DeleteGod bless, Mimi.
Thanks for the entertainment, we needed a good laugh and broad smile.
ReplyDeleteSherry & jack
Great to see you again here, Jack. You should visit more often and share a smile with us.
DeleteGod bless you and Sherry.