I opened the back door to go out to the lean-to utility room when I heard a noise. It was either the clumsiest clodhopping urban fox in history or it was a startled burglar.
I say 'burglar'. I mean 'next door neighbour'. Moving the panels in the dividing fence to sneak into our garden to nick some buds off the cannabis plant.
I actually don't give a frigging shit about the cannabis plant. I give it away to invited guests (ssssh, don't tell Him Indoors...!). What I do object to is some scummy neighbour breaking in to nick it.
I hope the imminent fixing of a padlock to the gate will send out an even clearer message than the piece of wood with protruding nails that lies in front of the plant.
If they had knocked on the door, and offered a bottle of piss-poor vinho di tavolha, we would have said, "Come in, help yourselves. BTW, WTF does one do with it?" but as they have taken to prowling round my property under cover of darkness, you can be fairly certain that it won't be long until shot guns are procured...
