Six months ago, I noticed one of my Isle of Lewes chess pieces was missing—a black castle. I don’t play chess very often now but it was part of a home made set cast from resin, so it niggled—not enough to search the house from top to bottom for but the occasional desultory search. I reckoned, without legs, it couldn’t have gone far so must still be somewhere in the study. My dusting is fairly desultory, too, so I was quietly confident that with some dusting and over the intervening months I would find it and then give it a good telling off.
Months have passed and the study has been dusted. More than once. The couch has been lifted to reveal more dust but no chess piece.
Furniture has been rearranged but again to no effect.
There is only one place it could be. I have a bookcase, which because it is too heavy to move easily I have left until last.
No problem. I even have a solution, a pole I can insert underneath and sweep anything out. I’ve had this solution for some weeks now but have delayed putting it into effect.
The reason is simple.
Quantum uncertainty. Schrodinger’s Castle. It might be there. I might not be there and if it’s the latter, I don’t want to know. So, every so often I glance across at the bookcase sometimes happy that it’s almost certainly there, occasionally disturbed it might not be.
Post script Quantum synchronicity.
Hard to believe but true. This morning, an hour before I was due to post this blog, my chair – the ‘Captain’s Chair,’ was getting an unexpected clean in anticipation of guests. I lifted a cushion and found it, fast asleep or quietly sulking.
He has such a lot to talk about.
And when they're done with their questions, I'll be having a quiet but firm word myself. Yes, fall off and roll under somewhere. Entirely forgivable, but how on earth do you end up under a cushion at the far end of the room? And how and why do you reveal yourself the day I'm about to blog about it. 'There are stranger things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio . . . '