My OfficeMate is on her holidays so I have a blissful peace in which to finish up the last bits of organising for the upcoming CPDF training tour round the country – I have her keys too which means I can sneak in and get a few hours done before the rest of the rabble turn up.
Yesterday though my plans were thwarted by being unable to leave the house as the garden gates were padlocked shut and the keys mysteriously wouldn’t open them. I sat with engine running for a minute as GateMan fiddled about lines furrowing his brow. His Second-in-command then came and assisted with more puzzled looks. He left for a minute, disappearing behind the flat bed truck that lives in the front yard, only to reappear with a stick coated in engine grease which was then poked into the padlock but nothing seemed to budge. The ladies then came to see what all the fuss was about, brandishing a tub of Vaseline which was smeared all over, but still no luck with the keys. Second-in-Command then scooted off again and came back with an hefty bit of rusty pipe and a metal axe, he ceremoniously handed these to GateMan who then bashed and bashed and bashed until the padlock pinged off and the gates swung open releasing us all on our way.
"H'mmm, just give me minute"
"Hang on, hang on - I think I've got it, uh-o, no...m'mmmm, maybe this way?"
"Let us see"
"Shall we put more grease on?"
"Stand back ladies. This should do it"
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