My Dad's fourth largest hammer...

Someone’s looking out for me; I’m convinced he or she is!

Each time I’m looking at an insurmountable problem, staring finality in the face, something comes along and diverts it and we move on!

As many of you know, my Dad and my Uncles were builders, and each time something needs to be mended, or solved, I get the smallest tingle in the back of the head, and an answer creeps in often without me realising it! It might even be Mum, or Grandparents doing the tingling, and although there are some spiritualist ideals somewhere in the family, I’ve never been involved in anything religious (not since I was a kid anyway). I live in a churchyard for heaven’s sake, and I haven’t been in the place for years – so I just play by the rules, as Idle mentions!

So why this emotional outpouring of religious fervour I hear you shriek?

Well, you may remember that I had a run-in with an industrial boot manufacturer, and got a full replacement and an apology. The truth is that the new boots are not really that comfortable, and Mrs S let me buy another proper pair for walking JRT. They’re incredibly comfortable, and have done many miles since.

But the left one squeaks.

It was driving us to distraction, the awful rubber/leather high pitched ‘grunching’ noise at every step. I tried walking pigeon toed, like Charlie Chaplin, like Long John Silver even, (sans parrot, I’m not that daft), but the dreadful noise persisted, even after about nine coats of dubbin, and a long squirt of WD40!

So what’s all this got to do with ‘voices’, squeaks and hammers?

Well, as a final gesture just before we both went totally insane from the noise, I took said boot into the shed, and grabbed this bloody great hammer, (the fourth one I inherited), and belted it all over the place in a demented fury! (I might even have called it a few names...)

Result?

Peace and tranquillity. Silent steps. Miles of birdsong. Relaxment beyond compare. Smiles all over Mrs S.

So, I just have to stop...and listen...