For example, we all have things in our house that need doing that we don't quite get around to and in the Brinkster household that might mean the odd toy that needs fixing, a bike that needs cleaning or a DVD that was bought with best intentions but still remains shrink-wrapped and unwatched. These can mostly be simply explained.
What I still haven't come to a simple explanation for is why someone in Brinkley Road would have two boats in their front garden.
As you'll see from the picture below from Google Streetview that caught the scene some time in the past there's one boat in plain view and if you click on the image you might just be able to catch sight of the bow of the second one propped up against the house.
Now I'm no expert on this, or arguably a lot of other things, but the picture would suggest to me that these boats haven't actually been anywhere for some time. Quite some time if the spread of the bushes is anything to go by.
Now I understand that I may be alone in this particular fascination but I do love things like like this. Perhaps there's a sad story behind why they never seem to leave but then again maybe there's a story of a dream or aspiration that's nearly come about. Either way I don't have a clue and it's become like some kind of delicious torture, a bit like watching a James Cameron movie in the hope of finding a plot twist or depth of character. Anyway, to me these boats stand as a reminder of dreams left unfulfilled or things left undone and gives me a swift kick in the pants as a motivation to get on and do mine.
Actually, I've seen these boats so many times over the last few years I've grown accustomed to them and just assume that they're still there. Perhaps they've gone and I haven't noticed! I'm going to have to have a look on the way home tonight just to make sure they're really still there and I haven't just been imagining their presence of late.
If you know the story of the boats then you might want to enlighten me?
On second thoughts don't. It might stay more interesting that way.
Title courtesy of John Masefield