The Landlady finds she has some extra tenants

It is half term and I’ve spent most of the week trying to keep The Small Daughter at least ten metres away from the Wii. On that note, it really gets me that although ‘metres’ comes up on the spellcheck, Wii doesn’t… Bah! modern life really gets on my t*** sometimes. I have also spent some of the week trying to arrange the scattering of my mother’s ashes in her chosen location, which is proving rather more tricky than I had ever imagined. My mother was a formidable woman when alive and is proving to be still fairly difficult from her urn. On her death bed, she dictated that she absolutely must be scattered at the local girl guide and boy scout Headquarters.

Admittedly, she did help to build said HQ through an exhaustive amount of fundraising in the 1970s, but having one’s ashes scattered there seems to be a can of worms.

“I discovered about half a tonne of old sandwich packets, McDonald’s wrappers and Doritos packets”

Alas I have already peeled back the lid of this particular can by alerting a member of the local trefoil of my mother’s wishes and have been given two options; the first option is to sneak into the grounds, scatter the ashes and answer questions later, should anyone see us. The second option is to seek permission from ‘The Board’, who meet at the HQ on the first of every month. It is to be noted here that ‘The Board’ has already refused permission for plaques and memorial trees in the past. Furthermore, in order to get a contact name within ‘The Board’ I have to get in touch with the man who made the very long-winded speech at the funeral… I fear I have to go for option two, although a friend did suggest standing in the neighbouring field with a leaf-blower.
On a more interesting note, I have discovered that not all of my neighbours are millionaire bankers with kids at private school. Unfortunately, said neighbours appear to be living in the bottom of my garden and the detritus left behind suggests that they are not exactly fairies. Admittedly, my garden is generally in a bit of a state, as I only actually go in there to tend to it a handful of times per year. The very end of the garden is a miniature forest and provides a habitat for foxes and squirrels and now, apparently vagrants. While in there the other day begrudgingly cutting back all manner of foliage, I discovered about half a tonne of old sandwich packets, McDonald’s wrappers and Doritos packets.

There was also an old piece of wood laid out with a sleeping-bag on top of it. I have to say that I don’t actually mind people sleeping in my garden, but I do object to them leaving their litter behind them when they leave. I also fear that, where the ‘bed’ was positioned, they may wake up with The Big Son’s size 11 foot imprinted on their face if TBS forgets his key and has to use the ‘rear entrance’ to the house.

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