So, a while back I bitched and moaned about the crooks stealing a piece of the wrought iron fence that surrounds the soccer field where we walk our dogs. More fence started going and I got more upset. I got hold of our local ward councillor on his cellphone and told him all about it. He promised to do something and asked me to send him an email. Nothing happened. Almost a week later I got a reply. Shame, he had been sick with flu. He had cc’ed the guy from the chairman of the Community Police Forum who also emailed me and gave me the phone numbers of a constable and the roving police van. Like I am going to stake out the field and catch the guys myself!

This morning fresh mounds of soil and twisted poles are all that remains of a further ten metres of fence that was stolen this weekend. Now if the police had been there this weekend they would have caught them. I emailed the councillor again this morning. He phoned back. He was irritated. He told me he was trying his best! He was having a meeting at 10 this morning and the fence would be on the agenda. “What I needed to realise,” he said, “was that there is a terrible problem in Woodstock, with people’s garden fences, gates and heritage wrought iron being stolen and sold for scrap!” This was supposed to make me feel better?

That is it. I am not doing this anymore. No more me trying to save a fence.