The Missing Dwarf

How do you dispose of an unwanted dwarf?

Now there’s a question most of you will never have been asked before, although I do suspect it’s a particularly common one for some members of the Renegade Writers.

I like living in the countryside. A rural setting really suits me. I guess you could call it semi-rural really, as although we’re on a hill over looking a valley and surrounded by olive groves and fields, we not too far from a town, shopping centre and other amenities. I like the quiet that comes with living in the countryside. I go to sleep with the window open and all I hear is the click of cicadas, the hoot of a distant owl and the occasional  barking dog. When I wake It’s to birdsong and the rustle of grasses in the breeze. Today at 06.45, Alfie decided to let me know he wanted to go out; clever for a five-month old; his cold nose on the sole of my foot did the trick of waking me. The morning was misty following yesterday’s welcome thunderstorms and there was very little birdsong. I put the kettle on and switched on the iPod, adding my noise to the day and the Squeeze classic, Cool for Cats played as I dropped instant coffee into mugs.

One of the benefits of being semi-rural, is that there’s always somewhere to walk the dogs away from traffic. Not far away is a dried up riverbed next to vines of ripening grapes and little pockets of olive trees. The road through the area is safe to let the dogs walk off their leads as there’s very few people that drive along it. I love taking the dogs there, it’s great for them to nose around and discover new smells, they chase each other and hide from their humans behind the bamboo; No doubt sniggering like naughty school-children as they hear their names being called.

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Alfie Mac managed to get his head into the shot top left

The only thing that ruins these moments of pleasure is fly-tipping. The selfish act of fly-tipping is not a problem just for Italy, it’s  a problem for rural areas all over. I grew up in a semi-rural part of Staffordshire and the lanes around our house would sometimes overnight grow a pile of rubbish or miraculously a beaten up of sofa would appear in a field. Even down our lane here in Italy, someone has bothered to drive up at night and deposit an old mattress down a slope that leads to some redundant olive grove. There’s always a mattress or a fridge. I think these items must be the most difficult for people to dispose of, either that or they just don’t know how to get rid of them.

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If getting rid of household items poses a problem for some people, what about disposing of unwanted dwarfs? As I took a diversion from the main track down a little pathway, worn away by passing feet, I came across another example of fly-tipping: this tipping was of the Disney persuasion. In the rough grass lay a set of concrete garden ornaments, these were shaped into the guise of Disney’s version of Snow White and her dwarf friends. However there’s only six of her vertically-challenged mates with her; one of the dwarfs is missing.

As I stand looking down at these concrete cadavers I ponder the name of the missing dwarf, could it be, Happy or Grumpy, possibly Bashful or Doc, maybe it’s Sneezy. Could it be Dopey, it may even be Sleepy.  At my side Alfie nudges me, bored with standing still and my attention is taken away from the Disney death, and as we wander back up to the main track I debate the plural of dwarf, is it dwarves or dwarfs. No doubt the answer will be found with a Google search. The Plural of Dwarf explanation



I grew up in a small village called, Forsbrook and nearby is the market town of Cheadle, Staffordshire. As a teenager, my secondary school hated the one in Cheadle, meaning the students from Cheadle were our sworn enemies. Thankfully no real trouble emerged and to be honest I’m not sure any of us, on either side were that bothered, it was an old feud that mostly got ignored.

Last week I went to Cheadle for the first time in over a year, it’s a pretty market town that sadly has succumbed to the demise of the high street, with empty shops being taken over by charity100_5442 shops. I was walking around when I remembered a sign that always took my attention because of its wording, so I took out my camera and snapped it for my blog. Surely the text should read,  Celebrating 60 years on the high street.

I was walking past a cafe when I spotted some errors in their advertising too: (Underlined in red)



It’s not just the need to insert uppercase letters at will that caught my attention, and despite the misspelling of separate it’s that apostrophe again. The sentence near the bottom reads ‘coffees blended’ now I’m assuming it means coffee is blended to give…… So we need the apostrophe, so it reads: Coffee’s blended to…

Finally on my way back to the car, I spotted another sign, this was advertising Slimming World meetings and again it was the scourge of the Wednesday spelling. For postings of previous Wednesday misspellings go to my old blog. Old Blog


Finally, I’ll leave you with another sign, this one wasn’t spotted in Cheadle, it was in town. There’s nothing wrong with the spelling, I just wonder if they get a surge every Saturday from people clamouring to get a plate of hot Head Patch?