This is an update to the tale told in my earlier post London in the Plague Year wherein my husband Mel’s pocket knife was confiscated at The Shard. The knife was destined to be turned over to the Metropolitan Police who, we were assured, would mail it back in ten days. Mel had little hope of ever seeing it again. But today, 34 days later, a package arrived from London containing the dastardly weapon shown above. It was swaddled in such thick layers of heavily taped packing material that Mel really needed a knife to cut through it, but of course had to make do with a rather ineffectual pair of scissors. We were impressed that the police sprang for Priority and Registered delivery. The original Weapon Confiscation Form was enclosed. Check out the interesting spelling they came up with for Mel’s place of birth. All’s well that ends well.
Dispatches From the Former New World 
A new city in Maryland then?😜
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Ello, ello, ello, what’s all this then? We knew all along Jack the Ripper was a wooden plank….err, I mean yank!
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Cultural references in this comment, which I instantly surmised came from my brother Stephen, are to Mr. Plod, the policeman in the Noddy books by Enid Blyton, and the question often posed by Dixon of Dock Green in the old British TV show about a London Bobby. Then there’s some Cockney rhyming slang.
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“Bortimar”? Where, pray tell, is that? hahahaha . . . sometimes we just need a little humor inserted on our blank lines.
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All’s well that ends well!
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