Since I moved to this part of Tooting, I've been told tales of theft.
I've also been told tales of buried treasure.
Both are accounted for by the local foxes.
A neighbour of a friend had bought a sharp new pair of patent heels for a big business conference. She left them in the box in her kitchen. She left the kitchen door open. On the day of the conference, she trotted downstairs, suited and not quite booted, and discovered ... one shoe in a slightly chewed box.
Some time later however, she found an old trainer buried in a plant pot. He giveth and he taketh away.
I've also heard today of a lady who left her handbag in the kitchen, popped upstairs, and came back to find her new purse missing. Regrettably, I don't think the fox left a slightly chewed twenty in her plant pot.
So far I have no theft to report to the group, I'm pleased to say. However, at the weekend I found treasure! Sitting in the one square meter of sunshine at the back of my garden to enjoy, I suspect, the last al fresco breakfast of the year, something caught my eye; something half buried, pointing skyward in the farthest corner. I approached with trepidation and gave it a nudge with my toe, and deeming it safe, I pulled it out the ground.
It was about a meter long, tubular, and largely red. It had a Nike logo at one end. It had a pinched section in the middle, with a few teeth marks in the otherwise complete cellophane tube. It was ...
... a Thierry Henry poster.
The local hunt is looking for a fox in a red and white scarf ...
reasons I am not blogging ...
1 week ago