Fortunately I don't come into contact with the police that often.

But in all honesty, when misfortune has come my way and the police have been involved, they have acted with the utmost professionalism and courtesy.

They do a difficult job in difficult circumstances and I will remain eternally grateful for their speed of response when a thoughtless driver thought it would be a good idea to lose concentration on the M62, crashing into my car, sending me spinning across two lanes of rush hour traffic.

My latest contact with the long arm of the law came last week and was unusual to say the least – well unusual for me.

My wife and I had gone to bed as normal, nothing unusual, and I was asleep, having a dream.

(I know other people's dreams are inherently boring but stick with me on this.) In my dream, a woman was repeatedly shouting something like: "Hello. Is there there anyone in?"

It was an irritating dream because she was very persistent and just wouldn't stop shouting to me.

Then I reached that half-asleep, half-awake state but the voice was still there, still shouting.

In my semi-comatose state, I thought there was a woman outside my house, peering in through my letterbox and calling to me.

And then I was more or less awake.

And still the voice was shouting, louder, more insistent and it started to get a whole lot worse.

The voice, I realised, was actually in my house, on the stairs, coming closer and closer.

"Hello. Is there anyone in? It's the police."

That last bit really did it. I was fully awake now, boy was I awake.

A million thoughts raced through my brain.

What were the police doing in my house? What was wrong? Had there been an accident? Were they family ok?

As I tried to cover my dignity, my wife finally jumped up and raced out onto the landing, coming face to face with a police woman.

And then the mystery was solved.

Apparently, our milkman (a man I have never met) had noticed our front door was open when he was delivering our milk and called the police to come an check everything was ok.

I must say I felt bit stupid having gone to bed leaving my front door less than secure but in my defence, it wasn't wide open when I went past it on my way upstairs.

It had obviously not caught on the latch and strong early morning wind had blown it open.

I'd like to say a big thank you to my milkman for being caring enough to make the call to the police and to Cheshire Police for responding so promptly.

This got me thinking about the job the police does on a individual level.

The police woman who came to check walked into a dark house in the middle of the night not knowing what she would find – that takes a certain level of fortitude and mental strength.

I know she was doing the job she was trained for but we should all be grateful there are people who are prepared to do that.

Cheshire Police has my thanks and gratitude for a job well done.

I realise I'm reaching the stage that could be described as 'grumpy old man' but I do have something to complain about.

I nipped out a couple of nights ago to the Sainsburys supermarket at Chapelford. There was a gang of teenagers – boys and girls – with their bikes congregated in the doorway, effectively blocking access to customers.

The language they were using I can only describe as 'industrial' and it was fairly intimidating to have to push my way through them to get into the shop.

Apparently, problems with youngsters around the shops at Chapelford is a perennial problem and one that isn't going away.

Frankly, this is not acceptable.

Do the parents of these children know where their offspring are? Do they care?

If these kids can't be controlled, perhaps it's time to make their parents responsible.