Our neighbour Jason, the nice one with the pool, called me early Monday morning to let me know he had been the victim of daisy theft. I rushed out into the street in my PJ's and photographed the evidence.
Monday 12th September 8.11am
Then again this morning, at approximately 6.55am, I received some more disturbing news, via text message.
Thursday 15th September 6.55 am
Again I leaped out of bed and went to document the crime.
Now, I am a bit worried about my other neighbours as they have recently planted a row of these.
But I think the thief prefers flowering plants, which means Mr Woog and his seaside daisies are fucked.
Heaven help anyone who touches his roses.
And Doug Woog is having to be bought inside at night from now on, until the criminal is caught by the fine crew at Chatswood Police.
When I first wrote about the crime epidemic that was rampant in my street, I had a response from Fire Fighter Dan which I think I should share here.
I swear that this is true. I grew up in a suburb possibly bordering Mrs Woog (lower nth shore). On a fairly main road. This is in about 1979 and I was in preschool. Bear in mind that this was when it was cheaper to buy a semi around Naremburn than a house in Ryde - it wasn't salubrious.
We had 5 young pine trees planted along our front fence - dad went to a big effort with that garden.
One morning, one was gone. He hit the roof. Went and got another one, etc etc.
The next morning, another one was gone. More swearing issued forth from the garden (offending the delicate north shore ears of the neighbours).
The next morning, another one was gone. Anger turned to cold rage.
He swore revenge. Apparently they were "very expensive."
That night, he tied fishing line around each of the remaining trees, which snaked up under the front door to a bell on the hall stand. He must have slept like a dog with one ear/eye open. I slept like a log so the rest is hearsay from mum, but...
At about 2am, the bell rang and it was on! He apparently shot out of bed like a rocket and went belting out the front.
In his undies.
With a .22 under his arm.
On the lower North Shore, not a farm.
He pursued the thief down the street, him waving the rifle and the other guy carrying a pine tree of similar proportions, before giving up the chase halfway to Willoughby shops.
I don't think that the cops would have believed it if they'd seen it.
But the remaining pine trees grew up untouched.
Until their roots messed up the water mains pipe and they were all dug up and mulched. That took dad and I 2 full days and made me swear to do my homework so I never became a manual labourer.
The end.
Thank you Dan.
I do believe there is talk of some sort of vigilante group about to be formed. But whatever the case, with Mr Woog leaving to go overseas tomorrow, I shall be sleeping with one eye open and a .22 under my pillow. And Chatswood Police on speed dial.
