Noel was all for dressing in camouflage gear, wearing a web hat and pulling his National Geographic Buff right up over his face to avoid recognition. I insisted that by wearing my usual red jacket (one of many) we would be obvious.but inconspicuous.
Noel argued that it was hardly inconspicuous to walk through the local woods carrying a big bag and a shovel. I said it was a perfectly natural thing to do and that people wouldn't bat an eyelid, expecially if we smiled and remarked on the weather to anyone we saw.
Noel maintained that there must be some kind of law against digging holes in an ancient woodland, burying a tin, then planting an apple tree there. I put it to him that if such a law did exist, the law-makers would understand our motives and forgive us. In fact they may even give us a certificate with a red ribbon and a gold seal making is Freemen of Calverley Woods.
An apple had fallen from our old, now departed tree, thrown out roots and shoots and grown into a healthy sapling. After two years, it had become big enough to demand a new home, somewhere away from our tiny garden, where it could grow leaves, branches and apples for all and sundry. I had the idea of taking it to the local woods and setting it free there among the tree-y population. There is could make new friends and grow as tall as it wanted. I liked that idea.
Just for good measure, I put a little time capsule together, made from an old treacle tin, saying we'd planted the tree on Easter Monday to celebrate 2010, the year of our tenth wedding anniversary. I also added a couple of photos of the cat, just in case, in a bizarre Red Dwarf parallel, a highly intelligent creature descended from our cat, should discover it in a few million years and wonder where it all began.
The secret place in the woods was chosen for its open aspect. Noel set to work with the spade, quickly hitting clay, but, encouraged by my cheering and singing, carried on until the hole was big enough to plant the capsule, the sapling and the bag of poo we'd brought to give it a good meal. It will be fun to return and watch progress – and of course with our collective finely-honed sense of direction, there's no way we'll forget how to find it…..
Unlike the April 1 posting on Sir Cat, this isn't an April Fool!