A lot of people in my neighbourhood make a big deal of their front gardens, which is really nice, because  you’re essentially doing it for other people’s pleasure of seeing your nice garden. People rarely sit and admire their front gardens, least of all sit in them for pleasure.

However, I’ve seen it happen a couple of times and it made me really think about me as a person. A while ago, we walked through the less salubrious part of the neighbourhood, which contains council and social housing. There’s a shirtless man, not in great shape, with knee high grass around him, sitting on a park bench in his front garden, enjoying the late afternoon sunshine, drinking a can of fosters and having a fag. And I immediately judged him. And not in a good way.

Not so long ago I was out walking fairly early with the dog, it was a heatwave week so, a lot of people were up and about early. Now, like me, my neighbours get early morning sun in the back garden and it was already about 25 degrees at 8am. So my neighbour wanting to take advantage of the fresh air, has brought his breakfast out on a little table to have on his front lawn, in the shade. A lovely teapot, some toast and a jar of fancy jam. And I immediately judged him. But it was a in good way.

Both men were talking advantage of the weather to sit outside and enjoy their refreshments. So the problem was me and it’s taken me a while to realise it. I judged the lager drinking man because the media over the years has ingrained into me that poor people are bad and I was looking down on this man. But a nice neighbour, whose wife volunteers at the church with their 2.4 children having breakie in the front garden was lovely and sensible.

So lager man, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I judged you and I’m sorry for why I did it. You sit in your knee high grass and enjoy your lager in peace without disparaging looks from me or anyone else.