While Blacksheep may imagine every day in Manchester is an episode of Shameless, our neighbour's paaaaaarrrrrrty was a very sedate affair. Not to the extent we had a slide show though.

And any chance of a scrap over the gates was scuppered due to the objecting party not coming. Which was a shame and I do hope it's not the plans that are preventing her socialising with us.

The neighbours congregated just outside the yard and we stood around till midnight telling tales, talking nonsense and drinking. Gary, at the end of the row, is the best storyteller of us all. I love listening to his stories from when he worked on the buses *yes, it used to be just like On the Buses* and, of course, the time he bought a goat.

He bought the goat on a whim at an auction - she was due for the abattoir. They called her Lucky. Well she started bellowing - as you would as a girl goat who needed milking, but he didn't know how to milk her. Turned out neither did the postman or the window cleaner or anyone else who came by that day so he went off to get lessons from a goat rescue centre in Warrington, found in the phonebook.

Then she started pining for company *goats get lonely apparently* so he bought her a friend - and a couple of ducks, for which he dug a pond. They used to follow his girls everywhere - until they flew off *you need to clip their wings he found out later*. Then Lucky ate some privet, got bloat and died.

Moral of this story: never call a pet Lucky. It's just asking for it.

But oh yes, it quite used to be the Good Life round our way. There's a field at the back with no access for house building, thank god. We had a semi-serious discussion about buying it between us and keeping some animals on it. Though we need to get the back road block-paved and gated first, we think. One thing at a time.

But I suggested we have a communal party later in the summer, maybe at bank holiday weekend. Get some barbecues going. Everyone seems to think this is no bad idea.

And if it rains, we'll be fine. Not surprisingly Gary's got a gazebo in his garage somewhere.