Another confession.

                               

With all the confessions I'm making recently, I'm almost experiencing what it must be like to be Catholic.

Back in around 1980 I spent a while living in England's Shropshire. My parents were both unwell and they had asked if I would go back to assist; which, luckily at the time, I was able to do.

We had a near neighbour who fancied himself as a Javelin thrower, and it was his wont to practice his art in our paddock. Someone throwing a spear around in your garden, and without having asked permission, is un-nerving, to say the least.

One morning I found him searching about in the longish grass, and asked him what he was doing. He'd lost his bloody Javelin, and his fruitless search continued until lunchtime.

Whilst he was away, I had a quick look myself, and was amazed when, almost at once, I saw a gleaming 'point' peeping out from under a tuft of grass; it was his bloody Javelin. I took it away and hid it in a shed.

He returned in the afternoon and continued his search. I said nothing, and months later used it as a fencing post.

OK, I was probably nasty, and I might even have deprived England of an Olympic gold medallist. But at the time, both he, and his behaviour annoyed me intensely.

I would now like to apologise.