It was a fresh morning this morning, one where even the birds had put on tiny coats and crammed their feathered wings deep down into snuggly pockets. Some of them had even pulled on ridiculous looking hats with ear flaps and scarves in an attempt to keep both warm and to look more dapper in front of their chirpy friends. Sadly, they failed miserably and simply looked silly.
At approximately seven o'clock this morning I found myself standing on the patch of wasteground by 'Chippies Chippy' after being forced to spend the night in a cardboard box with two gnomes, not something I ever thought I would be writing, let alone doing. It wasn't the warmest of nights and, thanks to one of the gnomes, Wilf, having adenoidal problems and twitchy legs on top of the fact that he kept stealing most of the small, smelly blanket, it was not one of the conducive nights for sleep either. Apparently though, from what I could discern from a particularly heated discussion between my two abductors, we had arrived too late yesterday for them to take me any further, hence the overnight accommodation of a cardboardy kind.
But, even though the time was still so early that even Sidney was probably still asleep, having nightmares about enclosed spaces and small hammers, I was handed a blindfold. I dutifully tied it over my eyes and, with sharp jabs of pointy sticks, I was ushered onwards.
Finally, after what seemed like minutes of stumbling like a fool, I was told to remove the blindfold which I thankfully did, blinking in the morning light and rubbing at my eyes like a small child who's been kidnapped by small men who are only usually seen fishing by the ponds of old people. And then I saw it in front of me.
A hedge.
Wearing a skirt.
I do sincerely hope that this is not what I think it is because if it IS, then things are even worse than I imagined. Word has it that there are Trolls working out of certain areas. we have had no sightings here as they fear the Honey Rot that blights many of our trees, but desperation could soon see them taking dangerous risks. Gnomes operating in small isolated groups are one thing, but a shady Troll gang leader is another. Gnomes are far too easily influenced by Trolls. I think you've put your finger on the root of the problem though. I hear that Gnomes have been grumbling about their fishing rights for some time now as some have been forced off pond-side locations by the unseemly seasonal activity of frogs. At the moment, it's like a Roman orgy down the bottom of our garden and no self-respecting Gnome wants to witness that kind of going-on. It's downhill all the way for them now because in a couple of months time, the pond will be teeming with unsupervised tadpoles and the irresponsible parents will be nowhere to be seen.
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