The danger that lurks in the garden

There is a new danger lurking in our front gardens.

Well, it has been there all along but apparently they have only just realised it and are running an advertising campaign to warn of this terrible threat to our cheeeldren.

I refer of course the the front driveway.

Yes, I refer to that little strip of driveway inside your front gate on your land.  This innocent little strip of concrete apparently is a lethal deathtrap and no child should ever step on it unless holding the hand of an adult.  Even if it's only a couple of feet between the front lawn and the front door, the children must wait patiently until an adult comes to guide them safely across this deadly plot. And they must never ever play near it, let alone on it.  Yes, it is that dangerous.

I'm not quite sure why?  Are other people's driveways like something Indiana Jones would encounter?  Are there snake pits, man traps and great rolling boulders threatening to roll down the drive?  Or do other drivers insist on doing 90 mph between the gate and the garage?  Maybe Daddy is sitting in his Porche hiding behind the gatepost, revving the engine and just waiting for one of his little brats to dare set foot on his piece of driveway?

Now I must admit that my driveway is dangerous.  Penny has taken it upon herself to dump copiously and frequently on the front gravel and I can guarantee [from bitter experience] it is extremely difficult to traverse without picking up a stench-bomb to walk into the carpets indoors.  As a result I regularly practice my golf swing by using a 9-iron to sail those deadly turds into the neighbours' gardens [or on a good day, in through their windows].

However I get the impression that our Road Safety Authority seems to think that the dangers of the front driveway are considerably more risky.

I kid you not…..

[Warning…. this video may cause an intense feeling of nausea]

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Comments

The danger that lurks in the garden — 18 Comments

  1. Golly!  When I was a kid I used to roller skate down our sloping drive and riccochet off the garage doors, I should obviously have been forcibly restrained!

    Now our present driveway IS dangerous, 50 yards of on-in-three gradient covered in olives.  Walking down it reminds me of the two burglars in 'Home Alone' skeetering on marbles.  (I MUST get it swept although it does deter uninvited guests)

  2. Barely a day goes by without my marveling at my not only surviving childhood but , thus far, reaching almost a half century. Surely my Guardian Angel wears a florescent neon keval jacket….and cycling helmet…and has carried a mobile dialyses unit , first to deal with the industrial quantities of orange squash (WITH SUGAR!) I drank as a kind and then later for the 'balance of payments' amounts of alcohol. 

    Aged 8 or 9 we used to saw and chop logs on our driveway that we had gathered with an old broken pram in the local woods -My parents had a Rayburn because they were poor not chic. 

  3. Who can forget those Halcyon Days playing marbles in the gutter on the MAIN ROAD?  Cars whizzing past our ears without a bother on us.  In fact I don't ever remember playing in the front garden.  How the hell did we survive five minutes, let alone an entire childhood?

    We had a Rayburn too.  The Ma wanted an Aga but she didn't get one!

    • " How the hell did we survive five minutes, let alone an entire childhood?"

      Back when I was about 14 I very nearly died of a ruptured appendix -actually the bloody thing exploded as the surgeon was removing it -much to my chagrin as I had been promised I might keep it in a jar…yes back tno one batted an eyelid at children having medical waste at their bed side.

      My Ol' Man visited me in hospital every evening and we had some father/son bonding time. He told me about some of the things he and his 'brovvers' (Beffnal Gwreen, already) used to get up to at age 14 ….like building a bonfire somewhere where there was 'that green stuff' and all sitting around it drinking beer and smoking Players before taking an older brother's car for a spin…WITHOUT seatbelts. Or borrowing books on a *cough* long term unauthorised loan from the library and then sittign all day on the Circle line reading them cos the tube trains were warm and you could smoke.

      I was shocked, SHOCKED, I tell you. 

      I suppose it's something every generation experiences.I think if I were to recount to my own, now supposedly adult, sons what there Granddad got up they would marvel at his having made it to the age of enough sexual maturity to sire me and their uncles.

  4. I'm appalled! Where are those kids' hi-viz jackets and hard hats? This sets a terrible example. Don't they realise that DRIVEWAYS KILL! Personally, I think driveways should be banned, or at the very least fenced in with locked gates. Experts have said that second-hand driveways are deadly too – apparently just catching a glimpse of one can result in heart attacks and worse. The sooner we wipe driveways off the face of the earth, the better. They are without benefit, it's just that some people are addicted to them. A hefty escalating tax on them would be a good start. I think I shall have to write to my MP and see if we can't get some punitive legislation on the books.

    • I shall proceed to concrete over my driveway, paint it a drab olive green and then paint a life size corpse lying splattered on it surrounded with blood.  I'll leave the health warning off though as I think they;ll get the message?

  5. FFS There are "6" videos on this f*cken topic, SIX!!! 

    When we annoyed my Mum as children, we were told to "go play in the traffic", or just as commonly "get out of my sight before I kill the lot of you, and don't come back unless you're dying, and then you'd better bloody well die". 

    Little did she know that the quickest way to get rid of us was to tell us to go walk across the driveway unsupervised.

    • "I don't care where you go.  Just be back in time for tea"

      We played on roads, we climbed trees, we threw rocks at each other, we played around water filled lime-pits, we set fires and made bombs, we fished in rivers, and most of all we had a great time and learned how to fend for ourselves.  It wasn't a good day if we didn't shed a load of blood, and I still bear some of the scars – they remind me of happy innocent days.

  6. As a result I regularly practice my golf swing by using a 9-iron to sail those deadly turds into the neighbors' gardens [or on a good day, in through their windows].

    Ah, it's good to know that you're still keeping up on your game.

    Now, when I was a lad of only 6 years of age living in upstate New York (flat, desolate and lots of snow) my cohorts and I (a bunch of 5 to 7 year olds with nothing better to do) gathered together and hiked off to the local junk yard, a favorite playground, and found what you might call "a rolling frame" complete with steering gear and wheel and four fully inflated tires. Obviously what was left of a early 60's sedan with everything stripped off of it but the frame, wheels, tires and, fortunately, the driver's seat, floor pan and a working brake pedal. It took 2 of us to steer and brake the thing and the rest of us to push it along (about 8 kids or so).

    So, out the junk yard we went, down the half mile of main road to the town, down main street, around the green, back down main street and the main road and into our housing development (just a few scattered houses back then), around the cul-de-sac waving at my parents as we rolled past, out the housing development and back to town (forgot to pick up our cigarettes don't you know)…all to the delight of the local townsfolk, police, fire department personnel and our respective parents. All of which got into their various rigs, either official or unofficial, and escorted us wee lads with our own personal rolling frame on our final victory lap ending back at the aforementioned junk yard where we returned our wonderful piece of transportation to it's rightful owners.

    Boy were we pooped! Happy but pooped.

    And fancy this. None of us got into trouble. We were actually viewed as a bunch of little heroes–more or less–not just for the actual accomplishment but more for being a bunch of single digit midgets having the absolute audacity (not to mention an astounding sense of organization for 5 to 7 year olds) to actually pull something like that off.

    We even got ourselves in the local newspaper.

    Ironically enough, the next day I was run over in my parent's driveway when I crossed it without supervision. My neighbor's dog spotted me and ran over and knocked me down.

    • Those were the days of adventure, learning, excitement and just good old fashioned fun.  Try any of that nowadays and you'd be before the courts for theft and reckless endangerment.  They'd probably also throw in driving without a licence tax or insurance if they thought they could get away with it.  Sadly kids these days will never experience the sheer joy of doing something a little daft or reckless just for the fun of it.  I weep for them.

  7. I hope they put as much effort into keeping suicidal cyclists off the footpaths next. I saw one of them go head over heels over a pram at the weekend.

      • Closest shave I've seen in a long time. The lycra clad moron with a bunch of bananas on his head must have been doing 20mph on a footpath as a young mother wheeled her buggy out her front door (no drive). The bike caught the front wheel and somersaulted, a slpit second later and it would have been very serious or even fatal for the little one.

  8. Hi Grandad,

    Maybe folks should just park in each other's drives, that way they couldn't run down their own children. It would be a such shame if those nice kiddies were squashed – but I suppose it would prevent them growing up to be sad muppets like their parents. And anyway, the video is by the *Road* Safety Authority – aren't they "ultra virus" (or something) spaffing public money on a *Driveway* safety filum?

     

    WILL NOBODY THINK OF THE CHILDREN???
     

  9. WTF! This a real government sponsored video and not a spoof? The world has indeed gone mad. Good Irish tax Punts, sorry Euros, being spent on madness. What happened to good old fashioned common sense? At least, it was free. Where can I get one of those stickers for my garage? Wouldn't want to kill  my granddaughter. I'm actually quite fond of her.    

    • Welcome, Flaxen!  Indeed, this is an example of what out gubmint considers a worthy way to waste our money. 

      My Grandkids live at the end of a little cul-de-sac with a crap turning circle at the end so whenever I visit I reverse the whole way in [ready for a quick getaway].  It's great fun driving backwards at 30 mph, and the Grandkids have enough sense to keep well out of the way.  They obviously have more intelligence than the gubmint gives them credit for.

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