By Johana Hartwig

‘Stuff that happens within a 200 meter radius from my front door.’

Taff Embankment houses

Taff Embankment houses


I live with my partner and his big fluffy cat ‘Collier’, with stubby tail that a dog bit off, in a Victorian terrace in a colourful part of Grangetown. 

This is a curtain twitching blog about the area in which I nest.  I do not live opposite another row of houses , so my blog is not centered around my neighbours antics, unlike Lime Green’s:

26-07-2007, 23:42
“One of my neighbours used to pour herself a glass of wine and settle down at her window to watch naked ironing guy opposite. He was regular as clockwork, Wednesday evenings, until his flatmate came home, and then he’d rush to get his kecks on. She had quite the best view, and would ask her girlfriends round for a look too. From my flat, I could only see him from the hips up, so I could tell he was naked, but didn’t get the free show.”

My window frames animal, mineral, vegetable and human.  Prostitutes walk my street by night, a lady walks her ferret by day.  In cold December drunks philosophise on a condemned bench, at night a man jumps to his death from the bridge and wild winter apples cling to a tree beside.


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