I sit on my Nana’s doorstep watching the rotary washing line turn slowly in the wind. It squeaks as it moves and occasionally tips a little. I’m convinced it’s going to fall over. Nana said to keep an eye on the washing as it’s a windy day. I wonder if she means in case it collapses or in case it blows away.
Inside all the Aunties are chattering. There’s a screech of laughing as one of them shares some gossip. They sound like a bunch of noisy chickens.
Some little birds have come to sit on the garden fence, they chirp and squabble, as if daring each other to steal the breadcrumbs left out on the grass. They quickly fly off as Mrs Nextdoor lets her dog out and it comes running in to the garden, yapping and growling.
In the distance the church bells ring. It’s tea time. Mam is in the kitchen with Nana making tea. Nana is singing her old favourite song and I can hear my mam complaining in protest. The tea cups clink together as they’re loaded on to the tray and one of the Aunties shouts out to make sure she gets a clean cup this time.
I jump up and run inside, eager to claim a red jam tart. I’m greeted by high pitched squawking of “Eee! Mind the hot tea!”
J.R. Nolan 