Monday, August 02, 2004


Last Friday I got a phone call around 11.30 from Collingwood police -- yes, that's right, I'd been burgled. Again.

I raced home (though getting cab through the traffic was hardly racing) to meet a very nice young crime scene investigator called Will. He proceeded to attempt collecting fingerprints off the handle of my faithful old shopping jeep; unfortunately to no avail.

It turns out that one of my back neighbours saw a woman climbing over my fence and managing to jemmy one of my windows, using a shovel from my back shed. He raced upstairs and called the police who, despite his not knowing the street number of my house, managed to get there. But not before the intruder had fled. She had filled the shopping jeep with the CPU from my computer, my scanner, my portable CD player and a pile of DVDs. My backpack was also full to the brim with DVDs (mostly operas, which may have disappointed the thief).

Unfortunately for her, my house is completely deadlocked so there was no way she could get any of this loot out so she must have just cut her losses and left before the boys in blue arrived and clapped her in chains.

I waited around all afternoon for AH (my handy person) who came and managed to secure the window with two very large nails. He will return in a week or so to fit steel bolt locks to all the windows, as it seems the brass catches are next to useless.

That night when I went to bed I noticed that there was one thing missing: the watch I received for 25 years service at The Age. As I don't wear a watch it's no real loss, though there is an element of sentimental attachment. As it's inscribed with my name it's probably the most identifiable thing anyone could take.


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