Quick! Grab a cricket bat!

Today I was really hoping to get to the Sow’s Ear and then join my friends for a Worldwide Knit in Public party, but as soon as I opened the curtains I shut them again quick. 

Here’s what I saw:

Oh crap! They were trampling the garden to bits, and all that spinach had just started coming up. The asparagus was gone for sure.

The kids were still sleeping when they started banging their fists against the windows.

I didn’t have much time.

Softball bat? In the garage. No good.

Rifle? Well, I could tell you “now that I have kids, I feel a lot better about having a gun in the house” but that would be a lie.

Cricket bat? A little bit of an affectation really, and we’re fresh out of the bloody things at the moment.

Then I had it.

Vintage vinyl albums!

I grabbed my Chad Mitchell Trio albums first — goodbye, Mighty Day on Campus, I thought as I flipped the record at the lead zombie like a poisoned boomerang (never could make those things come back).

 

Take that, zombie!

I dug a little deeper in the plastic crate and come up with some Van Morrison. Sling! Sorry, Van. Cool song. Splash one more of the undead.

and that!!

I reached into the bin again and pulled out a couple of Beatles albums. Uh-oh. Zombies or not, I didn’t plan to throw those at anything.

I heard footsteps overhead — the kids were waking up! There wasn’t much time left. I had to choose quickly and choose wisely. What would be the album to deliver the knockout punch and turn the zombie tide?

I closed my eyes, reached in, and pulled it out. Before I opened my eyes I knew what I had, and knew I would be safe.

 

Begone zombies!!!

Two records, a poster, and an iron-on. Whack!!! Zombie down. The other zombies are turning away (and destroying the rhubarb, the soulless bastards [oh right]).

I’ll be at the Winchester until this allllll blows over.

Have a pint, mate?