We lost DH’s wedding ring a few years ago. He had to take it off while he could, as his ring finger was beginning to swell. He put it in his sock drawer. When we went away I decided to find somewhere more obscure to hide it, but couldn’t remember later, when his finger was back to its normal size, where I had put it. We looked everywhere and gave up because it couldn’t be found, which upset me a lot. Then I was sorting out some bits and pieces in an under-used dressing table drawer and came across an old box of waxing strips which I decided could be ditched, but when I picked it up, it rattled, and inside was the ring. I’ve never been so pleased to find something.
To think that London, or anywhere else for that matter, does not belong to any one demographic
People eating and drinking on the go