Blogshit

In the morning, when my girlfriend stays over, I like to walk with her to the station and back when she leaves for work. This is most often a nice time, we share a conversation, and I sample the day before starting my work around 8 am.

I used not to be such an early riser, but my healthier habits and my girlfriend's job mean that the alarm goes at 6.30 am and up I pop like a tea-making weasel.

The road outside my block is short and runs alongside a local park. This means that the city dogwalkers head towards it, for it is a dumping ground. It's a well kept place in fact, with pooper-scooper bins often well-stocked, but this doesn't apply to the streets around the park. Walking these requires good eyesight, nimble dancing feet, and you dare not be half-asleep or drunk. The amount of crap that adorns my local pavement is enormous. The size of the dogs involved is surely gargantuan. The way that a recently landed pile is so often left bang in the middle of the path depresses me with it's awful inevitability. It's a matter of a few hours at best before a drunk/short-sighted/mobile-phone-preoccupied pedestrian's flat foot does the squish, the uneasy sideways too-late leap, and then spreads the awful mess eastwards or westwards, rejuvenating the stench and multiplying the chances of more shit on more shoes.

I have started a blog just for recording this process, since it is one of the chief environmental problems that we suffer here. The other two are air quality and urban noise pollution, but these will have to wait. No shit.