... And now you're up to date.

Well, you will be once you read this update:

12th April: My Spinsterhood has been affirmed. How? By my tolerance of cats. And their tolerance of me!
Tragically, little Spikey (of Catlitteracy fame) didn't use his Green Cross Code and was catapulted into the afterlife. Inexcuseable was devastated, naturally. Even I felt the stirrings of emotional wretchedness. Of course, it may have been gas...
Anyway, I visited Inexcuseable and was surprised to find that Popeye - so named because he only has one eye - jumped up on the sofa where I was sitting and demanded attention of the stroking and scratching variety. Before I knew it, I found myself obliging. Most peculiar.
A little while later, Inexcuseable's other black tom, Rodney - with two functional eyes - stalked into the room, seemingly unaware of my presence. Normally, after only the merest glimpse, Roddy would run a mile - He detests men, you see. His previous male owner hadn't been very kind to him, evidently. But he didn't run this time. He glared at me from his position on the floor at the end of the sofa, then jumped up and made his way towards me. Inexcuseable was gobsmacked! His haughtiness dissipating with every step, Roddy eventually sauntered across my legs and sat down beside me allowing himself to be tickled behind the ears and stroked from head to tail.
Apparently, Popeye and Rodney miss Spike, Inexcuseable told me, and that is the only reason for their sudden friendliness. Hmmph! I bet. It's really because they sensed my Spinsterhood. I'm doomed!

19th April: From my bedroom window, I watched in fascinated horror as a hawk swooped down and landed heavily on a blackbird.
Oh no! I mean: Oh good! No more interfering, dictatorial ex-Familiar.
Sadly, it seems Beaky has been watching Star Wars The Phantom Menace and taken a leaf out of Queen Armadillo's book by employing a squadron of looky-likey 'handmaidens' - The devious little stinker. I saw him the next day giving me the evil eye from his perch in The Cherry Tree as I popped out to run some errands.
Ah, well. I suppose it just wouldn't be the same without my arch nemesis around. Besides, if anyone/thing's going to take Beaky out, it should be me!

23rd April: My new Demon Box was delivered to The Parent's house. Actually, it was delivered to their neighbour because The Parents had had the audacity to go out. I mean, for Christ's sake - They shouldn't be having any semblance of a life at their age. They're over 60! It's embarassing.

26th April: The first hot sunny day since that freak mini-summer back in February. I wore a t-shirt while pottering about in the garden and managed to get some freckles! Yay!
I also found a young toad in a bag of compost that had been stuffed under the barbecue. At least I know where to find fresh ingredients now...
Oh, I was also supposed to go out in Cromer in the evening, but the plans were scuppered by copius vomitting (not my own) and late night calls (neither made nor received by myselves), so it's been postponed until this coming Saturday.

27th April - The Day of the Rat: Lounged about in The Parents' new conservatory - Although, it's almost big enough to be classed as an orangery! However, my lounging didn't go unnoticed by The Father and he soon had me dirtying up my hands and clothes by filling plastic sacks with compost, then lugging them across the garden to the car so The Mother could take them up to her allotment.
It was only after I was covered in compost that The Father showed me the huge rat he'd caught in another compost heap. It's head smushed by the sprung steel trap. Eww! Half the compost I was covered in was probably rat faeces!
After I got home and unloaded the new Demon Box from Car - Who managed to average 51.2 miles per gallon on the 25 mile trip back from The Parents, no less - I popped out into the garden to make the most of what little sun remained before attempting to assemble the infernal Demon Box. I was about to step off the paysho onto the lawn when I noticed a monstrous rat - How I didn't release a Ned "Purple Drapes" Flanders* scream I don't know?
The gigantic creature was half crouched in the middle of the lawn and hadn't seemed to have noticed me looming over it. After staring in horror at it for what seemed like an eternity, I realised it was almost dead, either from poison or an unseen injury. I managed to gather my wits together and drop a big plastic box (usually used to put stuff for recycling in) over it and weigh it down with bricks. With my sphincter tightly clenched and my toes curled, I managed to hobble back into the house wringing my hands and hoping that it would be dead by morning.

Today: Which it was. Quite how I managed not to have nightmares of lifting the box and the rat leaping out at my face, I don't know. Anyway, this morning, I gingerly lifted the box to discover a rat corpse. After more sphincter tightening and toe curling, I wrapped the stiff corpse in a bin bag and dumped it unceremoniously into the wheelie bin (which is being emptied tomorrow morning, thank goodness).
Oh, and I (with the help of a VERY patient young woman called Yashika from the Virgin Media helpline) finally managed to get the Demon Box connected to the internet. What a bloody palaver that was. Still at least it's done now.

Ooh look! I'm on the internet at home!


And now you're really up to date.

I'm not used to this blogging lark now. I'm exhausted! I think I'll make a few quick rounds before retiring to bedfordshire and contemplating the next post (hopefully with pictures from my new camera).

Oh, and I would also like to thank you all for sticking around during my rather sporadic, and somewhat over-dramatised, posting.



* It should've been a Ned "The Murderer" Flanders scream but I think "Purple Drapes" is better known.