Friday, 28 January 2011

The tale of the missing compass

We have three compasses. I don’t know why, but apparently  they are all different (bit technical for a bear of little brain) and they all live on  David’s shelves, separately of course.

It came to light that one of the said compasses, the one I prefer (the simplest, obviously) had gone for a walk. Unaccompanied.

The shelves were emptied and restacked, it was amazing what rubbish was found, but not the missing compass.

The car was searched.

Nay luck.

Various coat and rucksack pockets.

No sign.

So, Ciara and I thought we’d empty the hat and glove box, (a large, slatted pine box under the stairs) and search all the other bags and waterproof jacket pockets therein. First though, I pulled said box away from the wall, just for a peek.

And lo! There was the wandering compass!

Relief. The hand doesn’t have to reach into the pocket for a new one.


Laura said...

A lost compass? It's usually a user that gets lost!!!! Are you sure you want to take this one with you?

Louise said...

It had occured to me that it may have a habit I should know about!