Now one of the things about a blog is that you are very unlikely to paint yourself in a bad light. Obviously the many failings of the human race I observe are truly accurate appraisals and as such it is only a matter of time before I am elevated to a role similar to that aspired to by Mr Tony Blair. So it will come as no surprise to you to discover that I have once more behaved like a saint amongst Wolves.

It's all really down to the extra light there is around in the evening. Normally the run round the Crewe roundabout is an exercise in trying to ensure I'm ahead of the cars to ensure I'm not side swiped by a slightly over enthused commuter and indeed Monday night was no different. I got a good start and was accelerating to the eye watering speed of thirty kilometres an hour on the bypass when I saw something in the gutter. IT was a wallet. Now I can stop pretty quickly so I came to a juddering halt, and performed that most difficult of cycling manoeuvres, going backwards.

And it was indeed a wallet. I opened it, because without knowing who it belongs to it's rather difficult to return it. Firstly it was a lot tidier than my wallet. Obviously international celebrity blog writer have much on their plate and maintaining a tidy wallet is the kind of thing that one's people tend to do and since I wouldn't let the only member of my staff, Mrs Wyleu, anywhere near my wallet, it keeps it's crumpled but non the less interesting collection of old train ticket receipts pretty much as they are stuffed.

This wallet just seemed neat and the perscription also included the name and address of the owner who only lived a couple of kilometres out of my way.

So I got back on the bike and carried on. Now one of the wonderful things about cycling is you get plenty of time to think. IN my case most of this is put aside to deciding if it would be cheesy to receive the second Nobel peace prize for contributions to humanity, but on this occasion I did some genuinely selfless thinking about quite how a wallet with money in it comes to be 200 odd metres down a bypass. It can't have been thrown out of a window by thieves cos everything valuable was still there and I began to wonder if I was going to walk (or indeed cycle) into some kind of domestic.

So I pulled up outside the house and there was a car in the drive and I could see a baby in a high chair through the window. That was good because the wallet had containd PAmpers vouchers.

The door was answered by what I presumed was the husband.

"Does, and for the sake of modern sensibilities I leave out the name, live here?". 

He was already suspicious,

"Yes",

"I think I have something that belongs to her" and offered up the wallet..

The look on his face was both conspiratorial and amused,

He called her name, and the look on her face was just pure joy at the sight of the wallet.

I absorbed the gushing thanks with all the well practised expertise of Superman after he's just re-sited a collapsing bridge.

"Just one thing", I asked,"How did it come to be there".

Her husband gave her a look and cleared up the whole issue whilst she looked sheepish.

"She reckons she left it on the roof of the car after going to the gym"

As I said I'm just this far from Sainthood.