Insulation envy…

This makes me feel very middle aged, but I’m definitely hit with a bad case of the suburban epidemic that is sweeping though my neighbourhood at the moment.

One by one, my neighbour’s houses become encased in grey polystyrene, the large amount of vans and men (an upside, I grudgingly admit) edge further up the hill towards my house… Moving my car in the morning will be an inch-by-inch affair through a maze of vans, encouraged along by a guy in a high-vis vest.

One by one my neighbour’s faces become smug, with a helping of pity mixed in and my garden is strewn with various shades of polystyrene. There should only be grey, so I suspect there are little men inside the big vans eagerly producing different colour options to litter my garden.

Yes, I am aware I sound like a grumpy, curtain twitching (I don’t bother. I stand and stare or wave, depending on my mood) old dear oozing begrudgery, but I don’t begrudge them, I envy them! They can afford the thousands of euro it costs, even with a government grant. They are retired and secure with their pensions, lucky to have avoided this recession our country and I are gripped in.

One by one they tell me eagerly about how warm they feel already! One by one they tell me how next winter, they will heat their house for the cost of a stamp.

One by one the gallons of oil sludge their way through pipes to my boiler. Next winter my plan is to bask in the glow of warmth from their houses, while one by one my oil bills land on my poorly insulated hall floor.