A strange thing has been happening near where I live lately. The trees on Blackwood Street have mysteriously started sprouting woollen coats.
I don’t know where these have come from, but my imagination runs with potential theories. My favourite is that a secret group of Ninja Grannies has taken it upon themselves to dish out vigilante justice to the world.
Following in the footsteps of Batman, these elderly do-gooders, replete with technological knitting gadgetry colour matched to the hair rinse, spend their evenings furiously knitting in circles around the trees in an attempt to keep society’s forgotten street trees from freezing.
They would meet in their living room for afternoon tea, scones and discussion of the latest covert knitting wizardry, their husbands banished from the Gran Cave for the session. Then as the sun sets, they retire for a nap but then emerge around midnight, clad in black. Noise suppressors fitted to the bottom of their walkers, they pass ghost-like through the night before retreating at dawn, justice achieved for another evening.
I’m sure the truth is much more benign, but sometimes it’s fun to let the imagination run. And hats off to whoever IS doing it! It makes the world a little more interesting, although I would like to ask how you wash them when they get dirty?