The Trials of the Trowelsworthys

Just a few days until the annual Spring peregrinations begin.  The preparations don't actually take very long.  I would hardly be a suitable heir to the Trowelsworthy title if I didn't keep at ready a packed bag near the door at all times.  It contains inconspicuous garb for all weathers and an assortment of currency, much of it almost as good as officially printed notes. 

Something about traveling just naturally draws me into one of my several alternative identities, and when heading off the England it is always Badger Trowelsworthy who boards the trans Atlantic flight.  Yes, the passport says something else, but Lord Trowelsworthy is quite comfortable with traveling incognito.

It is entirely possible that some of my archeology pals who know me only as "Badger" don't actually know the moniker that the tedious and pesky real world insists on considering to be True.

But while it is a comfortable persona, it does come with a few wrinkles.  I for instance actually start to think like a slightly disreputable minor aristocrat.  I in fact, worry about Trowelsworthy Hall, the illusionary Manse that has been the traditional home of the Trowelsworthys for centuries.

There have been repeated attempts by junior members of a vagrant branch of the family to lay hands upon the property in my absence.  Oh, Otteria and Biff are cunning and persistent - admirable qualities to be sure - but I have stayed a step ahead of them so far.

For one thing the exact location of the Manor House remains ambiguous.  Many locations have been suggested.  A medieval rabbit hutch in Dorset.  A building supply store in Alberta.  A dentist's office made of shipping containers in Valdez Alaska.  One of these might be correct.  But I would not bet on it.

So the malicious cousins have turned to that most subtle of weapons, the courts.

It has been a close run thing, but recently my Solicitor has prevailed.  It took some doing but she was successful in persuading the Bench that a deed that at first glance appears to be made from letters cut out of modern publications is in fact the authentic document signed by Queen Elizabeth (The First) in her own hand.

It was a fine bit of legal effort, accompanied of course by the distribution of considerable largess in the proper places. But it is done, and I now am confident that this will deter The Young Graspers for long enough that I may enjoy my holiday abroad without undue concerns.

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Regards the Alberta Canada location for Trowelsworthy Hall, take note of THIS   Police say they are considering the fire "suspicious".  Gee....ya think?  Otteria and Biff's doing I don't doubt in the least.