It must have landed during the night. Whoever dropped it obviously wasn't a very good aim as it landed on my neighbour's side. Or, possibly, their aim is even worse, because it may have been meant for number 50, four doors up, because it's got No.50 chalked on the roof.
And here it is trying to sneak up on me out of the undergrowth when I got home from work. As you can see, it's not very good at blending in...
Anyway, who would want to kill lil' ol' me?
MJ? For my ladylike walk, with my legs together, through which no daylight can be seen? Something you can only dream of?
Tazzy & Piggy? For my horizontal-stripe-wearing prowess?
Timothy? For that 'accidental' encounter on your windowsill the other night? I swear, I thought it was Monday, one of the court-agreed-upon
Or was it you, Toby? Even though it may look like I've been eFlirting, I promise you that it must be Blogger paying up - You're the only one for me!
Unless Connor becomes available, of course.
Shut up. Shuuuuut-upp!
Quiet you two!
Now. Where was I? Oh, yes... I don't want you all thinking those vile white plastic chairs and that detestable red-brick barbecue are mine. No. They are the neighbour's. This is my garden*...
* Now fairy free due to Nuffy's weekly extermination sweeps.