Loose grass, straw, reeds, or other plant stalks collected and turned into a roof, or to cover something with these materials. (Note: you need more than this on your roof, especially if you're in the Northeastern USA. Do not try this at home.)
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Yesterday, the author and Tweeter Sixth Form Poet posted a three-part thread that's one story comprised of three separate stories. It's crazy, heartwarming, and a solid tale of a community looking after its own. (Note: some adult language)
Hello, good morning. A ridiculous but ENTIRELY TRUE story coming up, told in three parts. Ten tweets per part so you might want to a) make a strong coffee, or b) ignore me
— sixthformpoet (@sixthformpoet) June 9, 2019
ONE
— sixthformpoet (@sixthformpoet) June 9, 2019
My dad died. Classic start to a funny story. He was buried in a small village in Sussex. I was really close to my dad so I visited his grave a lot. I still do. [DON’T WORRY, IT GETS FUNNIER.]
I always took flowers and my mum visited a lot and she always took flowers and my grandparents were still alive then and they always took flowers. My dad’s grave frequently resembled a solid third place at the Chelsea Flower Show.
— sixthformpoet (@sixthformpoet) June 9, 2019
Nice but I felt bad for the guy buried next to my dad. He NEVER had flowers. Died on Christmas Day aged 37, no one left him flowers and now there’s a pop-up florist in the grave next door. So I started buying him flowers. I STARTED BUYING FLOWERS FOR A DECEASED MAN I’D NEVER MET.
— sixthformpoet (@sixthformpoet) June 9, 2019
I did this for quite some time, but I never mentioned it to anyone. It was a little private joke with myself, I was making the world a better place one bunch of flowers at a time. I know it sounds weird but I came to think of him as a friend.
— sixthformpoet (@sixthformpoet) June 9, 2019
I wondered if there was a hidden connection between us, something secretly drawing me to him. Maybe we went to the same school, played for the same football club or whatever. So I googled his name, and ten seconds later I found him.
— sixthformpoet (@sixthformpoet) June 9, 2019
His wife didn’t leave him flowers BECAUSE HE’D MURDERED HER. ON CHRISTMAS DAY. After he murdered his wife, he murdered her parents too. And after that he jumped in front of the only train going through Balcombe tunnel that Christmas night.
— sixthformpoet (@sixthformpoet) June 9, 2019
THAT was why no one ever left him flowers. No one except me, of course. I left him flowers. I left him flowers every couple of weeks. Every couple of weeks FOR TWO AND A HALF YEARS.
— sixthformpoet (@sixthformpoet) June 9, 2019
I felt terrible for his wife and her parents. Now, I wasn’t going to leave them flowers every couple of weeks for two and a half years but I did feel like I owed them some sort of apology.
— sixthformpoet (@sixthformpoet) June 9, 2019
I found out where they were buried, bought flowers and drove to the cemetery. As I was standing at their graves mumbling apologies, a woman appeared behind me. She wanted to know who I was and why I was leaving flowers for her aunt and grandparents. AWKWARD.
— sixthformpoet (@sixthformpoet) June 9, 2019
I explained and she said ok that’s weird but quite sweet. I said thanks, yes it is a bit weird and oh god I ASKED HER OUT FOR A DRINK. Incredibly, she said yes. Two years later she said yes again when I asked her to marry me because that is how I met my wife.
— sixthformpoet (@sixthformpoet) June 9, 2019
[END]
TWO
— sixthformpoet (@sixthformpoet) June 9, 2019
We had two children and last year they said they wanted to go to Disneyland. We saved up and booked it but rather than say sure you want to go to Disneyland let’s go to Disneyland, we decided to make them earn it. I told them they needed to raise £3,000.
Every time they did something good, I’d add £10. Every time they were naughty, I’d take £10 away. £3,000 and we’d go to Disneyland IMMEDIATELY so if they did ten good things a day without being naughty they could go in a month. Easy.
— sixthformpoet (@sixthformpoet) June 9, 2019
Suddenly they were PERFECT children. I’d get home from work and they’d be all how was your day, can we take your coat? I’d say this is nice oh right wait I get it, sure add ten pounds and they’d say ten pounds is that all - we said hi, took your coat - SURE OK ADD SIXTY POUNDS.
— sixthformpoet (@sixthformpoet) June 9, 2019
The day before we were due to go, they were on £2,950. We were playing frisbee in the park and it landed next to a homeless guy. We went over and said hello. His name was John and he was an artist and he did a VERY AMUSING Kermit The Frog impression.
— sixthformpoet (@sixthformpoet) June 9, 2019
Walking home it became clear my children had never seen a homeless person before. They wanted to know why he had so much stuff. I said he was living there and they said but what about his house and where does he wash and WHAT ABOUT HIS JOB?
— sixthformpoet (@sixthformpoet) June 9, 2019
I tried to explain homelessness and they were like if he doesn’t have any money, you should just give him some. CHRIST. I said money doesn’t grow on trees and all the spare cash *we* have is taking us Disneyland. YOU CAN SEE WHERE THIS IS GOING.
— sixthformpoet (@sixthformpoet) June 9, 2019
We got home and they said they had an announcement to make like they were calling a press conference. They didn’t want to spend that £2,950 on Disneyland, they wanted it to pay for that guy to have somewhere to live. FUCKING HELL KIDS WE’RE GOING IN THE MORNING.
— sixthformpoet (@sixthformpoet) June 9, 2019
I was like ok look it’s a really complicated issue and we don’t even know him and honestly it’s lovely I’m so proud of you but SERIOUSLY GO TO BED we’ve got an early start. But they were adamant.
— sixthformpoet (@sixthformpoet) June 9, 2019
I went back and told him the story and said look I can’t cancel Disneyland and I don’t have another three grand lying around but we can pay for you to stay in a hostel for a bit. He cried and said no, I cried and said SERIOUSLY THEY’LL NEVER FORGIVE ME.
— sixthformpoet (@sixthformpoet) June 9, 2019
He said ok thank you and I drove him to a hostel and booked him in. We stayed in touch and he came round for Christmas Day. Bless him he brought a cuddly Mickey and Minnie Mouse with him. Lovely - MERRY CHRISTMAS.
— sixthformpoet (@sixthformpoet) June 9, 2019
[END]
THREE
— sixthformpoet (@sixthformpoet) June 9, 2019
I lived next door to a couple called Lucy and Tim. They were both lovely but very different to one another. He was a gregarious GET IN HERE AND DRINK CHAMPAGNE WITH ME type, she was far more reserved.
Two years ago, completely out of the blue, Tim died. I wend round with some flowers and a card and said look I don’t want to intrude, I just want you to know that we’re here if you need us. I gave her my number. She didn’t use it.
— sixthformpoet (@sixthformpoet) June 9, 2019
Not for the first 18 months anyway. Last Christmas we had a million people round for dinner and it was early evening and everyone was a bit drunk. The phone rang - Lucy. She said Matt I’ve tried to kill myself. FUCK.
— sixthformpoet (@sixthformpoet) June 9, 2019
I said ok I’m coming over, can you let me in? She said no I’ve taken pills I can’t move but the kitchen door is open. I got someone to call an ambulance and went outside to climb over the fence. In my shorts and t-shirt. On Christmas night.
— sixthformpoet (@sixthformpoet) June 9, 2019
It was freezing and starting to rain but anyway. I climbed over the fence, slipped, got covered in mud, grazed my legs BUT ANYWAY. I went to the kitchen door and let myself in. She was sitting in an armchair with a vacant expression and said Matt am I going to die?
— sixthformpoet (@sixthformpoet) June 9, 2019
I said I have no idea tbh what exactly have you done? Pills she said. PILLS AND GIN. I said ok how many pills? Honest to god she said four. I went FOUR IS THAT ALL?! (I mean my clothes were a mess!!) How many gins? She said two large ones. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?
— sixthformpoet (@sixthformpoet) June 9, 2019
She said I’m not going to die, am I? I said YOU PROBABLY WON’T EVEN HAVE A HANGOVER YOU CLOWN. There was a knock at the door - the paramedic. He asks how many pills she’s had. She looks at me, arches a brow and says twelve pills. A LIE.
— sixthformpoet (@sixthformpoet) June 9, 2019
The paramedic asks how many gins and again Lucy looks at me first, arches a brow and LIES THROUGH HER TEETH. Twelve gins, she says. Christ.
— sixthformpoet (@sixthformpoet) June 9, 2019
The paramedic caught on and Lucy confessed. It was agreed she would probably survive four ibuprofen and a couple of gins and the paramedic said she could come with me. I took her to my house and introduced her to everyone.
— sixthformpoet (@sixthformpoet) June 9, 2019
Everyone including John, our homeless friend from Part Two, remember? They got along famously and to cut a long story short THEY JUST GOT ENGAGED. Next year they’ll get married in the exact same village in which this story began. AWWWWWWWW.
— sixthformpoet (@sixthformpoet) June 9, 2019
[END]
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