Monday, September 23, 2013


Best blog bit of the day from the Reluctant Launderess:

At this point a mouse dashed across the bedroom floor, giving me a fucking heart attack. I tell you, it’s non-stop wildlife in these parts. Once I had regained my composure, and climbed, acrobat-like, from the bed to the hall (without touching the floor), I went in search of the Boy who picked up the dish-brush and announced, in a very serious voice: “Leave it to me, Lady.” Well he upended every piece of furniture in my room, but no sign of our furry friend, until – SQUEAK! – there it was ON TOP OF THE CURTAIN... The Boy picked up my shoe and flung it at it, whereupon it jumped down – I think I’m going to vomit just thinking about it – and scuttled out of the room, down the half-stairs, into the Boy’s room. The Boy WHOOPED for joy, legged after it, and disappeared into his room, slamming the door behind him. I have seen neither the Boy nor the mouse since, but there’s a Godawful racket coming from up there. (Update: The mouse has, so far, escaped. The Boy has just left the kitchen with a block of cheese. “I have a plan”, he tells me.

The "cunning" before "plan" is silent.

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