Anyone finding themselves upon one the major thoroughfares of leafy suburb Jesmond the other night may have seen a pony-tailed dark trenchcoated and becapped figure picking up small objects from the pavement. What could it be? A performing/fine arts student working on their latest project/happening? Well, that would be the normal explanation for this part of
, but no, it was I.
And what was I picking up? Well,
conkers, obviously. Newcastle
I have spoken of this before. Basically, I was gathering conkers because last year I was told that they keep spiders away. Now, I don’t know if this is true, but I certainly seemed to have less spider activity in my flat since putting down conkers last year in dusty corners and behind bookcases etc where the enemy foregathers. It could be coincidental but given my problematic past relations with those malicious fly-eating arachnids (faults on their side only) any defence against them will be utilised.
And, rather brilliantly, unlike last year, this autumn has been good for conkers, or bad for conker gathering children, whichever, and so I have this time been able to gather a goodly number. A very goodly number in fact. Perhaps a few more than I actually need.
Never mind, the fact that I can barely move for conkers detracts from the possibility that their presence may spare my heart from one of those nerve-jangling octopedal forays across the carpet.
And that's a price worth paying, surely.