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I have become just another statistic in the local authority crime figures. After returing from my brother's graduation yesterday and heading to my car I found that along with millions of other people in this country my car had been scratched and the person who had done it had not left a note on my windsheild to confess to it. I'm pretty easy going and with my old clapped out car of before I would not have given it a second's worth of irritation but with my new one it warranted at least 10 minutes worth. The reason for this is that the scratches, although not long, are rather wide and therefore more noticable and more prone to encouraging rust patches as they are down to the bare metal. Added to this the car hadn't even tripped the 1000 mile mark on the odometer. I was so close - only 25 miles to go.

I wouldn't have bothered going to the police but my mum phoned especially today to encourage me and after that I really couldn't not go. Unfortunately the station had to close early so I had to leave a message with the helpful lady on the end of the special yellow telephone and hence won't get the excitement of obtaining a crime reference number until they phone me back - presumably tomorrow while I'm at work. (That should be fun..."Kat, phone....it's the police..." everyone turns to look)

It's not the most fun I've had dealing with the police (that was a trip in the back of a car with the blues and twos going and travelling at speed in the early hours of the morning) but it was probably the quickest and most painless. As to the graduation photos - I'll get them sorted when I have a bit more time.