Postman Patter

Bright sunshine and cold breezes this morning, as befits the first official day of Autumn. The postman says there are no letters for us today but that we can have some rubber bands.

“What for?” I ask.

“For the kids. So they can make, er, space rockets and stuff.”

He roots around in his postman wheelie trolley and fishes out a large handful of big thick brown rubber bands.

“Do you have any used toilet rolls as well, then?”

“What for?”

“Well, to make the rockets.”

He smiles and sticks up a thumb. “Arsenal!” he says, and starts to walk up the hill.

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