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I’ve been working a lot on the garden this week. O.K, so I’ve worked on it three days in a row, but that’s a lot for me. The kids have loved it because each day I’ve managed to unearth treasures for them, simple things, but that’s all you need to make light enter a child’s eyes.

 

Little blue glass stones, very popular with both my kids, I somehow managed to find an odd number of these. You know what that means don’t you? An odd number of treasures + an even number of kids = all-out war. Thankfully blood was not spilt (that day) as I also managed to find a Centime in the garden too. If you don’t know what one of those is, then I will enlighten you. Prior to the Euro becoming the standard currency used for payment of goods and services in France, they had the Franc. This was then divided into Centimes. So quite a rare item, or so I told my son in an effort to get the red glow to leave his eyes. It worked.

 

Today, my final day of gardening (I hope) has yielded the best – in my eyes anyway – find of the whole endeavour:

 

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A lovely old silver whistle (not sure it’s actually made from silver, or just silver-coloured) bearing the legend ‘THE ACME CITY MADE IN ENGLAND’. So I’ve travelled all this way, moved house and home, and found a whistle forged in my own country waiting for me in my new back-yard.

 

It’s still got dirt on the inside, and so it’s actual whistling days may be behind it. I’m also not sure I want to wrap my lips around something that’s been sat in the dark for so long. What will happen if I do blow it though? Will it call upon all the ex-pats in France? Will they all arrive en masse to give aid to their fellow Brit, fearing for his safety? Is it magic? If I blow in it will a Yorkshire Genie appear, granting me three wishes but only after he’s finished his cup of tea and had a nap? Or maybe it will open a doorway into a magical England, where we haven’t voted to leave the European Union (I wish!)?

 

Who knows, maybe I will blow into it and see one day, or maybe I’ll just leave it on display. A little bit of the UK, that was waiting patiently for me to find it…

 

 

I did blow in to it in the end, nothing happened, except the kids started laughing and asked ‘What’s that farting noise daddy? Have you done a fart?’. Also now my mouth is full of dirt.

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