We have a boggart in our house; he first came to live with us when we were in Oldham, and when we moved he came too. In case you don’t know what a boggart is, he’s a helpful household creature, very helpful… except sometimes things don’t go exactly according to plan. For example, a couple of weeks a go I wrote a post about how we had ‘lost’ a pile of towels, big fluffy bath towels and bath sheets. We searched high and low for them in all the usual places, airing cupboard, ironing pile, spare rooms… and all the unusual places, under things, behind things, even in kitchen cupboards. We came to the conclusion that they must have blown away or been accidentally taken to the charity shop with a load of things for recycling. I went out. I bought new towels. I came home with the new towels. I found the old towels in the airing cupboard where all three of us had looked. I think the boggart had been helpful…
I take exception to the Wikipedia entry which says unkind things about boggarts which I won’t repeat here in case ours catches sight of what I’m writing; our boggart always means well, always tries to be helpful, but sometimes he misunderstands the situation, and things go awry, usually where things have been ‘tidied’ away.
When the children were younger, when the boggart was being particularly active, we would all draw pictures of him; he was usually so pleased with this that for a while things would return to normal. I could imagine him with his portraits on the walls of his boggart hole, sitting admiring them, and resisting coming out to help us.
I have just spent the past few hours looking for some important papers… I’m going to look again tomorrow, in the meantime ishall have a glass of wine and do some writing, and hope our boggart reads this complimentary blog about him!