A Cacaphony Of Hoovering.

House Music.

I juxtaposed my walk with an early shift ferrying customers to our local practitioner. Friday being one of the popular days for medical visits. Honestly, I am much more comfortable with early morning walks and felt like a werewolf at no moon or a vampire at the beach. Just not right.

The birds were more chirpy ( obviously they've had time to shake off early morning blues ), the fields were teeming with tractors and the traffic was horrendous. Well, for us that is. At least ten cars passed me! What is the world coming to...

So, I set out at bang on ten a.m. and braved a teeming village. Pretty sure folks thought their watches were broken! Walking down Dorfstrasse it started. A domestic concert of note. My gosh, if one could hear a hoover through those thick walls then it must have been a hardy week on the dust and dirt front.

Well, good for her I thought but then, the house two down on the left joined into the fray and emitted a slightly less shrill hoover ditty. She must be a lucky owner of one of these modern Dyson lookalikes which frankly I wouldn't mind having myself. Goodness me, when I heard it not mere seconds again in the very next house I realized that Friday must be designated Hoover day.

Obviously I can't say for sure if a cunning Hausfrau hasn't recorded a hoover session once and from then on awarded it hours of looping each and every Friday. Walls have ears and neighbours even more so. At times I try to picture these enthusiastically cleaned strong holds of village order and compare them to ours. At least any errant specks of dust and dirt get a warm welcome with us and are allowed to stay as long as they like.

Biggi