Devastated. Bob from the Council turned up unannounced on Friday. And shattered my dreams. Heartless. Absolutely heartless.
Due to the unannounced nature of his visit, The Fairy wouldn’t let him come through the house as she had not undertaken the necessary emergency cleaning which usually precedes visits from outsiders. So he had to come through the gate. By which I mean climb over it, because the bolts refuse to draw back.
Upon entering the garden, he cast a cursory glance at the ruined lawn and went straight over to the trench site. I knew all was not well when he shook his head and made that hissing noise through his teeth. Then he delivered the blow that saw me drop to my knees in agony:
“It’s too close to the boundary. If you keep digging here it will undermine the posts and the fence will fall down. I can already see into the garden next door. You’ll have to fill it in and resubmit your application showing the trench at least three foot from the fence.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I told him that my engineering expertise was second to none and I would never make the mistake of compromising the stability of the perimeter fence, but he said rules have to be adhered to. This I accept, but his unwillingness to trust my professional expertise, I do not. Which I made very clear in the manner in which I asked him to leave. It took him less time to climb out of the garden than it had taken him to climb in. Quite a feat in fact, considering his age.
The Fairy tried to comfort me and Chicken did her best to cheer me up but nothing could console me. I retired sobbing to my bed, all my dreams in tatters. Until, that is, my survival instincts kicked in and I remembered who I am. MONTY THE GREAT. I’m Monty. And I’m great. No ‘Bob from the Council with his Health and Safety regulations’ is going to stop me building a trench. I will simply employ the services of a fellow expert and start again. A new day is dawning.
All I need now is Arky-Ollie-Just.
Monty The Great