Help, I've got squatters

Before leaving all was normal

I was in London at the weekend, spending time with my son and his family.  Visits between us are rare as it is a long journey, virtually the length of the country.  I had a wonderful time and all too soon it was time to take the overnight train and head for home.

However, when I got back I found that things were not quite as I'd left them. Not only was the grass decidedly longer and the veggie patch  more overgrown (the weeds are loving the rainy weather we've been having) but  the garden and the hen-house had been over-run by squatters.

It's not something we normally have a problem with up here in the north; squatters prefer the inner city.  And living in a small village, I thought that the Neighbourhood Watch signs would be an effective deterrent to any miscreants. But either the intruders were bolder than most, ignoring the twitching 

of net curtains, or they had arrived under cover of darkness.

I'd arranged for friends and family to look after my animals while I was away but

Megan eyes up the intruders...

I discovered that a certain member of the family had left the garden gate open, allowing the 'visitors' to get into the property.  Thankfully they hadn't broken into the building itself but it was a close run thing.  

Margo realised the visitor was holding a shotgun

 Two had taken up residence on the doorstep and I found another  (a far more dangerous looking individual) lurking in the hen-run.

...and bests the cauliflower thief

To add insult to injury I noticed that one of the little people was holding a cauliflower.  He must have pinched it from a neighbouring allotment as I haven't any growing in my patch.

With horror I realised I could be arrested for receiving stolen goods.
Action had to be taken. And quickly.

Megan made quick work of the cauliflower thief but the hoe-less gnome and the murderous twitcher proved harder to shift.

I decided that the only course of action was to pay them off.

The member of the family responsible for their arrival lives in one of Scotland's major cities so, after extolling the virtues of metropolitan living, I gave them her address, directed them to the bus stop and handed them the fare.

They accepted my bribe with alacrity, obviously the thought of clubbing in the city appealed to them, although I omitted to mention that the cauliflower and shotgun might be removed from their persons before they gained entry to city nightlife.

'Hey Ho
 Hey Ho 
To Aberdeen We Go'

I watched them leave with no feelings of regret but I do hope that their new life in Scotland's oil capital will be a great success and that any ventures they pursue will bring them happiness - and the desire to put down roots there.
Permanently.