ST GEORGE’S Day. What a wonderful world! First my dog alerted me to the fact that a seagull had become wedged between my fence and my neighbours’ shed. A frantic yell over the back fence brought forth a dear neighbour who gallantly extracted said bird which flew away in a happy state.
Later in the day I managed to lock myself out of my home (in inadvertently leaving a key inside in the lock which locked itself).
Within minutes neighbours materialised as if by magic.
My nearest and dearest neighbour used every implement imaginable from a looped wire dangled inside the letter box by long thin grandson, to a Swiss army knife. A young girl had a go, then brought her young sister, then their father came with a reel of wire.
Yet another neighbour popped over the road with a magnet on a rod, and various good ideas. All to no avail. I, meanwhile was cossetted with hot tea in my adjacent neighbour’s home - even my dog was walked!
All this occurred around ‘tea time’ after work and school. I say ‘God save St George’ and all things quintessential to Britain.
For the record - yes, I was, three hours later, reunited with the interior of my house, by a professional locksmith.
Mount Park Avenue