We have a great neighbourhood email group which is used as a means to recommend local tradespeople, borrow items – often children’s fancy dress – and sell stuff. It’s a friendly association of good neighbours.

But there has rarely been a week like this. There were the Weebles, for a start. I remember Weebles the first time around, small play people that could not be knocked over because, basically, they had no legs, just a hemispherical bottom. Fortunately their homes and vehicles were all designed to accommodate this body type. It seems to me the Weeble nation should have been arch-enemies of Doctor Who in a Dalek-Weeble alliance, a federation of megalomaniacs set on galactic domination... on planets without stairs. The Daleks would exterminate and the Weebles would wobble in unison to create a force that would knock planets out of their orbits. Logical.

Someone wanted a loan of these children’s characters for a teaching aid. It was just the latest in a series of strange ones.

In the case of the starting blocks, the writer acknowledged it was a long shot but said the sprint starting blocks she had ordered had not arrived. Until this email arrived I was blithely unaware that these athletics track accessories were personally owned. I thought they were kept in the games cupboard with the hockey goalkeeper’s kickers and spare gym mats. At school, in the inter-form hockey tournament, I was goalkeeper and spent a considerable time (as long as possible) in the games cupboard, buckling on my kickers (kickers!) and shin pads... I spent so long in there that I usually held up the bully-off. Funny really, because I never held up the hockey ball. I was much too hard, I wasn’t prepared to risk letting it come into contact with me. (I do wear glasses after all.)

Then there was the open water wet-suit. Again, the person making the request recognised it was a faint hope that anyone could lend them one. If I had ever, in my life, managed to persuade my non-compliant body into a wet-suit, I would still be wearing it. There’s no way I would go through that palaver twice. Elsewhere, someone wishing to take advantage of the refined tone of our neighbourhood was hoping a neighbour might have sample pots in light blue or light green Farrow and Ball paint colours.

But the first in this spate of interesting emails was the person who wanted to borrow a chainsaw. Anyone who watched the latest series of Line of Duty would know exactly why this caused me to raise an eyebrow. In fact it was nothing sinister at all. The writer simply wanted to do some work in the garden and I am content that was the true reason as there were no follow up emails such as:

“Has anyone got a biggish, sturdy trunk they want to dispose of – happy to pay a reasonable price.”

“Would like to borrow four-wheel drive and strong shovel for an evening. ”

“No joy with four-wheel drive. Cement mixer, then? Oh, and does anyone know a quick way to take up and re-lay a patio?”

“Can anyone recommend a good solicitor?”

“Could someone pop round to my house when the crime-scene tape is down and water my perennials.”

These glimpses into people’s lives can spark the frenzied imagination of a newspaper columnist. Who knew we had a sprinter and an open-water swimmer up the road? Once upon a time you would have had to take a break from hanging out the washing, lean over the garden fence and talk to ‘er next door to find out what was going on.

• Meanwhile, in north Essex, grandson George is clear about his status within the family. He is now “a big boy” while brother Wil is “a toddler”. Our son, Mark, cooked a roast dinner and we all sat down to eat like respectable people. Neither of the boys slid under the table (as was once their wont) and both of them used their cutlery. The only variance was that Wil ate his meat and Yorkshire puddings, then his dessert of fruit salad, finishing off with cold caulflower, carrots and peas.