Prepare the guest room

Well, they weren't at home to Mr(s) Cockup. I was in front of the building I'm doing a paper on. Neighbour who was getting rid of all the moss on his drive way with a water pressure hose shouted they weren't in. 'Their car isn't there so they must be out'.

Fantastic. They're not in the phone book, there's no name on the letter box. Just my luck they're not in on the day I drive 252 kilometers (with the price of diesel this time of year!).

So no trick or treat. And yes, I guessed correctly, they are old age pensioners, very reclusive. The man across the street doesn't even know them.
Even the woman down the village library Oh, I know everyone in the village except them didn't have the foggiest.

Anyway, I took some pictures from the outside, sat in the pub till the local library opened, rang the bell again (still no one home) and then returned home.

The paper is coming along nicely now though. I've typed up eleven pages and still haven't scratched the surface of it. Ah well.

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