. The lights not only seem to defy gravity but also nearly defy being photographed as I walked straight into his car in the dark a few minutes ago when trying to get a full frontal view.
Bozeat's in Northamptonshire, England. It's where I wake up most mornings, now.
. The lights not only seem to defy gravity but also nearly defy being photographed as I walked straight into his car in the dark a few minutes ago when trying to get a full frontal view.
All that was left in the shop was this set of odd dangle things. They had to be plugged in inside and the only place I could find where I could get the cable outside was through an upstairs window so there's a cable running up the roof and looking extremely bizarre. Eminently suitable!
. . . on a tree in Graeme's garden (count them if you don't believe me). Now, as (a) that's where we're seeing out 2005 in some style and (b) every single one has since disappeared, it may be advisable to steer clear of the pie.


Having been returned safely, kept clean, spoken to daily (despite little reponse) and his plants well-watered, I'd tended to assume that the saga was over. That the neighbours were having a good chuckle occasionally but, not having had much of a chance to do more than wave, shivver and dash in or out depending on the time of day, we hadn't had sufficient opportunity to discuss WHO DUNNIT.

in a chilly November, and presents for the children! Amazing. Brilliant wheeze. Accompanying postcard reads: Have been spending some time with my brother in these lovely flowers, better than being stuck in a box by you're (sic) door. But I decided to come home. Hey ho back to the fir trees.
There once stood a Gnome here. Known for wandering off from time to time and appearing in other parts of the Hill estate - but never straying onto other people's property - and always showing a cheery face. OK, so he was outside all the time and it's getting pretty chilly at night, but that's normal for a gnome. What wasn't quite so normal was the tendency for him to be supplied with beer and fags by neighbours and I reckon he was pretty chuffed with the Hallowe'en mask Adrian gave him in late October. He rather reflected life here in many ways, and on 1 November when the occupants of No 5 were being seranaded by a wardrobe salesman, he got dressed up in a cardboard box to show that he knew about fitted wardrobes. That, however, was the last time I saw him. His box was there but no Gnome when I got home on 2 November. Now you might think that's odd enough. I mean, it's not as if he were one of those really expensive ones. And he was big, not the sort of thing you could easily stuff on the front seat and drive off with. So, if you see him around - about 3' tall, mostly red with a watering can and a plant pot holder, usual red hat and white whiskers, turned up nose etc - bring him back please. Quite fond of the fellow, and it was me that rescued him from being thrown out from the MK residence in the first place!
and looking a bit miffed at my not having replenished the right flavour of crisps or left any cheese in an accessibile position. Anyway, that was the last I saw of him until he popped up in the hedge, not exactly where you'd expect but, as I said or shall say depending on which order you read these things in, there are some strange things happening in the village these days.
They say that comets precde dramatic events and, as you'll see from the next entries, or, as everything seems to go back to front here, as you'll already have read above, that has certainly been the case here.

Here in the village there's going to be a repeat of the brilliant Party In The Paddock in August. That should be fun.


