There are a lot of interesting questions in life. One is, why am I the only person in the household who changes the toilet roll? Another is, why are sauce bottles so fiendishly hard to get into? How about, why do I have to empty my entire handbag to find the pen when if I don't need it is floating happily near the top? Also, why has father got an air pistol and ammunition in his wardrobe?
I nearly fell over when DH told me. DH visited father yesterday and came away with a long list of things to bring in. This included some randomly bought necklaces for the ladies there, some wine (apparently he is on alcohol) and some ties so when he was on a committee he could look the part. DH had to do some serious excavation in father's wardrobe, which is when he found the air pistol.
I've never been so near a firearm. At what point did father decide he needed an air pistol. Also what the jeff am I supposed to do with it? I am not sure if I need a licence. How on earth am I supposed to dispose of it?
I am still not sure why father obtained this, or from where. The neighbours are fine, the local murder was almost certainly just a private matter and unlikely to affect those a quarter of a mile away, I suppose he may have to it to fire at the local cats when they dug up his flowers, but father wouldn't have hurt a whisker of an animal. I suppose he may have fired over their heads, but a cap gun would have been a lot cheaper if he was wanting to do that.
I am a bit worried that a random purchase happened, like father's determination to buy a sickle to tackle the weeds at the church instead of all the alternatives. I am a bit worried about what else I may find as I clear out father's room. I know about the cache of smelly candles, I know about the 1966 World Cup Final programme. I would never have guessed an air pistol and ammunition.
I'm off to work out whether I need a licence.
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