a short length of hose

I'm definitely not in Kansas anymore.  Here the house numbers are clumsily spray-painted onto the houses.  The privet hedges are untamed and are swallowing up the (already fucked) gates, entrances, the lot.  When I finally do find the rusty latch and force my way through the undergrowth, I have to negotiate a path through the piles of children's toys and 'Farmfoods' carrier bags stuffed full of soil (?).  I exit this particular close soaking wet (the privet tends to hold a lot of surface water which brushes easily onto me) and with scratched hands.  Today I encountered Lancaster's only front door that opens outward, a painful experience.  There are also a surprisingly large number of letterboxes installed upside down.   They tend to remove that thin, sensitive layer of skin just below your fingernails.  Mans stupidity to man.