My trusty old banger who I affectionately call the Bullet is my pride and joy. Along the way it’s been kicked and had windows put out, and at one point my ignition key snapped in half. When that happened I had someone repair it for me but because it had a computer chip in it The repair man couldn’t put another hole in it for me to put it on a key ring. As a result I’m forever losing it.
This morning, as I was climbing into my car with work bag, two phones, house keys and all the other paraphernalia I realized my key wasn’t in my pocket…or the house…or anywhere else I looked for the following three hours. I’d hung washing out so checked my overgrown lawns, I’d packed a few things so reopened the boxes, I checked every room, both sheds, even all of the half filled packing cases and there’s dozens of them.
As my emotions flipped between terror and panic I finally decided to go make a coffee and do a bit of work and so put the kettle on and nipped to the car for my work bag. On the way I rather hoped for a bit of divine intervention but wasn’t hopeful after the foul language I’d come out with (and I hate foul language). But as I walked out of the gate my eyes for some reason went straight into the undergrowth even though there was nothing particularly gleaming. There in the grass…..