Pikachu, any chu - the key issues

The English are a generous type; if one finds an item of lost property, he will display it in a prominent location for the erstwhile owner to retrieve, even long after all such hope has gone.

Thus, on a sunny autumn day at the car park by the rambling forest you can see a fence adorned with a million single childrens' gloves, the odd pink bootie and if you're really lucky, an abandoned child, some of which have clearly been there for months with their integral bird's nests or crop of mushrooms.

A few days ago, a bunch of keys were left on our gatepost by some well-meaning traveller. This is all very well but since then we have had a procession of people (some foreign) ringing our doorbell asking if we've lost our keys. The latest one admitted he'd tried them on a few cars, so we have elected to do the Right Thing and hand them in to the Keystone Cops.

Directly from school I got Erin back to mine for lego play while the olds talked plants. She can fit a strawberry Maoam up both nostrils at once, Mmm. Then (on a promise for a return visit next week) she went home to do homework, something I'll never have to do. Bud and I drove to the Police Station which was closed, I guess they just don't have crime here, so instead we visited the big main station which had a very creaky door and bulletproof glass. They accepted the keys from us with the minimum of fuss and we made our way back through the on-off monsoons (aprés moi le deluge).
That just left the homework I'd hoped to avoid. I tried it all, crying, saying I didn't understand, asking him to do it for me, procrastinating in the hope that Jof would do it for me, saying I was hungry but would only eat in front of the TV, and many others. This is why it took over an hour again, there are too many words. When I grow up, I shall be a Tragic Actor, for I am great at melodramatic histrionics. And I shall act in silent movies (which are making a comeback) for I won't have to read the script - no lines.