Lost and Found

The other half came back from Notso Bigtown today with our week’s shopping, some ‘eco logs’*, two doughnuts and my keys. When I asked Twitter where my keys were, Twitter replied: where you left them and Twitter was absolutely right. As the other half walked into the builders’ merchant where we’d bought the eco logs last week the woman behind the counter produced my keys which had been sitting there waiting for us to return. Hurrah. Now, does anyone know where my phone is?

* actually a bit more like ‘eco pellets’ but they’re a by-product from a local joiners so cheaper than the traditional bigger heat logs and, crucially, something that you can just go into a shop and buy. Unlike seasoned hardwood which, it seems, you either have to have been born here and your father and grandfather before you, or know some magic word, or possibly both, before anyone will actually sell it to you. Apart from the £6 bags from the garage which are almost as ruinous as oil…

Keyed Up

Bah. I’m on my own today, supposedly getting on with some work and making stock and doing other such domestic pottering. But the sun has come out and while it’s still a bit cold it was perfect weather for a walk or a bike ride. Or it would have been if I could have found my keys* – three weeks of being on holiday plus a week of bank-holiday-style pottering around with the other half means I haven’t really needed them. And somehow that rural way of life hasn’t quite sunk in far enough that I’m comfortable actually leaving the front door unlocked, or at least not deliberately. Looks like my countrification is not yet entirely complete.

*Google was no help. And if autocomplete is anything go by, what people mostly are looking for are their kidneys. Now that really would have been a holiday too far…