Pigs might fly

After basic chores had been completed, I ventured out again with Faith in my bag, hope in my heart and charity on my mind. I returned to last night's unanswered door and rang the bell. The door was answered by a familiar delightful young new dad who ushered me in to meet the baby, its mother and her parents remained unanswered. I found another two lanes, each with a correct door number; the first of which was answered by a lovely woman who told me that nobody in her lane had a brand new baby, they were all a bit older, but I could try the next lane along, which I did, and again received no answer at the door. Perhaps 12:30 on a Sunday is not the right time to be trying people's doorbells.

But the sun was out and it was fun to take the camera out for a walk.

When I returned home I found that somebody had left a key in the street door. What to do? Had they just popped out, soon to return? Had they left it there on their way in loaded up with shopping? I nipped round to the shop on the corner to see if any of my neighbours were in there, but they weren't. I didn't care to leave the key in the door where any passer by might choose to put it in their pocket, and neither did I want to go knocking on all my neighbours' doors – I'd had quite enough of that for one morning. So I put it on the doormat, as though a kind passer by had spotted it and dropped it in through the letterbox. That will suffice as my good deed for the day.