Guardian Weekly

There’s a fox in my office; my tomatoes don’t stand a chance

The fox that eats our rubbish is not as confounded by the new locking bin as we are. Between four members of our household there is still no settled position on what constitutes “locked”. The fox, at least, seems to understand the principle.

While I’m tired of finding the contents of the new bin strewn across the road in the morning, I also know it’s dangerous to frustrate the will

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