I found a diary written by my late Uncle Jeremiah. Turns out he was an inventor. I have transcribed some of his early writings as best I could; many of the entries were damaged or covered in cow dung and pomegranate juice.

September 2nd

I think I have invented something. I’m not sure what it is yet or even what it will be used for, but I’m sure it will be a valuable addition to all the other inventions going around these days.

September 4th

I sent a message to my neighbour, Sandy Castle, asking what day his bins go out. I’m sure it will be the same as mine (Tuesdays). I don’t need to know what his answer is, I’m only opening a conversation before I move on to the subject of inventions. He looks like a probable guinea pig. He’s got big cheeks.

September 6th

I need to know a few things about him before I offer him the guinea pig opportunity.

1. Does he have all his faculties (it’s hard to tell through net curtains)?

2. Is he allergic to electricity?

3. How often does he soil himself?

Is it Daily, Monthly or Annually?

September 10th

I felt the questionnaire may be too early in our relationship. In an attempt to become more familiar I have offered him space in my bin if he needs it, but not if my bin is full. Obviously, I’ll send him pictures to keep him updated.

I’ve also asked his advice about starting an orchard. I would prefer bananas, but I heard they can walk, and I don’t want to be trailing the streets at night looking for any wandering banana tree.

I’ve sneaked in a health question, offering fruit from the orchard if he suffers from scurvy. This might be important if he grows into a guinea pig.

September 23rd

I’ve moved to first-name terms with Sandy. Not out loud, but I have waved to him quite enthusiastically.

I was given some seeds from a young lad called Jack in return for letting his cow graze. I get to keep the dung; what I’m to do with it I don’t know. I could maybe ask Sandy if I can use his bin.

I’m not sure what kind of seeds Jack has given me, I’m hoping for pomegranate.

Found a note from Sandy offering me some compost for the orchard. I’m not sure what compost is, so I’m playing hard to get for a few days until I find out.

September 26th

Turns out compost is rotting vegetables! What a bloody cheek that man has. He can use his own bin for that kind of stuff. I’ve put a padlock on mine and written my name on it.

I’ve stopped all communication with Mr Castle.