It all happened in me back room, Sorch. We have a fireplace that is 56 years older than your country, and had it removed for refurbishing. The finished article was offered up to the wall, and, me being me, stood there for several months. The mantelpiece was used for holding up cups of tea, tools, music scores, and anything else that didn't fall off. It was also the secure location for Pat's fiddle.

To this day I don't know what happened, but am not unsympathetic to the idea that a poltergeist gave the fireplace a hefty nudge, and the whole issue came crashing down onto the concrete floor of the unfinished room. Cups, tools and papers were spread across the room. The fiddle would've probably fared better had it followed the rest of the missiles, but sadly it slipped into the gap and fell 5 feet directly onto a brick hearth. It impacted on the port quarter, and split a shake right up to the sound hole, and beyond to the neck end.

A professional repair is well in excess of the market value of the intsrument, but that isn't the point. And yes, I did pick up the tab! It is all sorted with Pat; I just wanted to purr about how sweet she was over the whole sad business.

Skipjack