Gardengate! Mysteriouser and mysteriouser as Alice (she of Wonderland) might say.
Let me recap for those of you who (i) are not regular readers or (ii) are regular readers but generally find my Random Ramblings instantly forgettable. On Friday night, while I was happily swimming in Center Parcs' outside pool
beneath a spectacular Full Moon, back home somebody made off with our garden gate. Mr B, who was Home Alone, knew nothing about this until the following morning when the woman who lived at Number 27 called at the door to say that our gate had been dumped in
her front garden. Bless her, she had traversed the road looking for the house with a missing gate. When it comes to neighbourliness, Mrs Number 27 (aka Joyce) has it in spades.
On my return home, having been acquainted at length with the whole sorry story by Mr B, I trotted along to Number 27 to retrieve our gate. As I think I have told you already, with the help of a handy trolley, Mrs Number 27 and I
trundled said gate back home, propping it up against the garden fence, despite stern warnings from Mr B that someone would almost certainly steal it if we left it there.
This morning, Julie from Up The Road called to fix the gate back on its hinges. She had been alerted to our need for assistance by a local company called Trumps ("No Job Too Small!") So far, so good - except that when Julie from
Up The Road tried to lift the gate back onto its hinges it became clear that it was not our gate at all. It was just too tall, just too wide. Hadn't I noticed the difference? she queried gently. I had to confess that I hadn't thought to make a Gate Inspection
but had taken, at face value, the fact that the gate dumped in Number 27's front garden must be ours. I mean, how many missing gates could there be? Well, more than one, apparently.
So here is the conundrum. Whose gate is it? And where is our gate? Have other gates been unhinged and abandoned in other people's gardens? Is it something to do with the Full Moon on Friday night? Could this be somebody's idea of
a new party game - Pass The Gate? But without a prize at the end.
Julie from Up The Road said if it stopped raining sometime soon then she would take a trip up and down our road looking for missing and / or abandoned gates. For my part, I did similar detective work in the next road on my trek
to and from the shops. No joy. Tomorrow I will try another route.
I have called our local Community Police Officer but she hasn't come back to me yet. I am rehearsing in my head exactly how to explain Gardengate to her when she does make contact. Even in my head, the story sounds a trifle garbled.
Maybe I should simply suggest that she reads the Daily Blog?
Julie from Up The Road was not our only helpful visitor this morning. Driver Steve also turned up to collect my Trusty Chariot. I had pre-warned the garage that jump leads would be required to start her up so Driver Steve had come
prepared. At first it seemed that even so equipped he would not be able to get the engine turning over but a call to Mission Control advised him how to proceed. Something to do with dirty contacts. I have to admit that I didn't like to probe further.
I told him I would have every finger crossed that he would make it back to the garage and that Graham The Mechanic would be able to work his magic on the Trusty One. Driver Steve said he really hoped so. "She's a Grand Old Lady,"
he said, resting a reverential hand on my car's bonnet. "It would be such a pity if we couldn't keep her going for you." I think I fell half in love with Driver Steve at that moment. I haven't confessed this to Mr B of course - he would be most offended to
think he might not be the sole recipient of my affections.
Since a call this morning to inform me that Driver Steve had made it safely back, I haven't heard from the garage. I fear an Extraordinarily Large Bill may just be heading my way.
I just want my car back. I just want my gate back. It isn't too much to ask.