Tar

This morning I awoke to the (rather unfamiliar) smell of tar. Yes, tar. You read correctly. Tar is rat backwards, and to be honest I'd rather wake up to the smell of tar than to the sight of a rat. But anyway, this morning. The council have taken the charitable decision to spend our outrageously high council tax on the painfully boring task of resurfacing the road outside my flat. Ok, roads do need resurfacing ocassionally, but as I don't drive and am perfectly happy on my bike even on the bumpiest gravel track, I'm a bit put out. Humph. I'd rather have the rubbish collected more often, or the park cleared of graffiti and syringes so that local children can play without reading rude words or stabbing themselves. Maybe I'm just a romantic. For now though, the whole flat smells of tar. Lovely.