Some of the stolen daffs!
It all took place during a particularly heavy downpour which the old dogs and I got caught in after delivering a cheque to the trustees of the village hall. The cheque was a donation towards the Hall's decoration from the Flower Show committee, part of last year's donations ...and it was the only dry thing on me when Jean Smith opened her door to receive it.
She offered me a spare coat, but I told her I was beyond caring, which was true. By the time we got back down the lane we all looked as though we had been thrown into a swimming pool.
Now the piece of land behind our cottage has recently been sold. It is also covered in daffodils, survivors of the recent land clearance, so realizing that I couldn't get any wetter, the dogs and I traipsed onto the plot and I helped myself to the flowers, something I have done for the past decade.
I had picked around two dozen daffs when the white van bounced through the gap in the wall and a middle aged guy sat in the drivers seat and frowned at me.
Red handed I decided to front it all out so I waved the flowers rather gaily at him and walked over as he got out of the van.
"Are You the new owner ? " I asked
" I am " he said
" I'm sorry but I've been stealing your daffs" I trilled lightly
" So I see" he answered without smiling.
It was all rather awkward for a moment until Winnie, who was sick to the back teeth of getting wet, pulled herself free of me and marched quicksticks off the plot into the direction of home with all of the grace of a pygmy hippo!
" She's a big girl" the man noted as she thundered past and as I agreed, I could see that the ice around the stolen flowers had suddenly been broken.
A good job I thought later, upsetting neighbours is never a good idea.