Here's one for the psychoanalysts amongst you.
A very disturbed night, a long vigil beside a child's bed, and an hour's brief sleep before morning. And this:
A square frame, with a dusky pink backdrop. Clinging to the backdrop, an angular lizard, made entirely out of plastic, white with pink polka dots. The lizard is upright, in the top right hand corner of the frame, head leaning back towards the centre of the frame, talking to someone we can't see. He is grousing about the fact that he never gets the girl, is doomed to be single all his life, and what is wrong with him that the girls always go off with someone else.
Up pops the person he's talking to. It is a cow made out of lego, with bits of giraffe thrown into the mix. "Don't ask me, mate" says the cow/giraffe/lego beast, to the pink polka dotted plastic lizard; "I'm just a giraffe".
End of dream, beeps of the alarm clock.
I'm still trying to pick out any part of that at all - make of it what you will!
Tia
Friday, 9 May 2008
Thursday, 8 May 2008
Not the best of days
Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow?
See this?
And this?
And this?
Not for much longer, you won't.
We saw Little Fish's spinal consultant today. She now has scoliosis with a 25 degree curve. He expects this will deteriorate, probably relatively quickly, and that she will need major surger for it at some point in the next ten years. Bracing is not an option, so the only thing we can do to help slow the curvature down is to ensure she is always sitting in chairs with good lateral supports. No sitting on the floor, no sitting on a stool, no sitting in her manual wheelchair unless laterals can be fitted. No classroom chairs, no settees, well you get the picture.
Anyone want to try to explain to Little Fish why she can't do something she actually can do? It's hard enough explaining why she can't use the trampoline/bouncy castle/climbing frame...
The day did not start well - Mog was fitting and having breathing problems from 2AM until sunrise. The post wasn't great either - Little Fish has minor surgery booked for the end of the month, during our half term holiday. She needs it, it's good that it's happening, but the timing could be better. The messages on the answerphone were all to do with problems covering our care shifts (Staff off sick and on holiday). A friend has had major brain surgery today. And now this.
So, if you've got any really bad news, could you throw it at me now please, I'd rather get it out of the way.
Tia
See this?
And this?
And this?
Not for much longer, you won't.We saw Little Fish's spinal consultant today. She now has scoliosis with a 25 degree curve. He expects this will deteriorate, probably relatively quickly, and that she will need major surger for it at some point in the next ten years. Bracing is not an option, so the only thing we can do to help slow the curvature down is to ensure she is always sitting in chairs with good lateral supports. No sitting on the floor, no sitting on a stool, no sitting in her manual wheelchair unless laterals can be fitted. No classroom chairs, no settees, well you get the picture.
Anyone want to try to explain to Little Fish why she can't do something she actually can do? It's hard enough explaining why she can't use the trampoline/bouncy castle/climbing frame...
The day did not start well - Mog was fitting and having breathing problems from 2AM until sunrise. The post wasn't great either - Little Fish has minor surgery booked for the end of the month, during our half term holiday. She needs it, it's good that it's happening, but the timing could be better. The messages on the answerphone were all to do with problems covering our care shifts (Staff off sick and on holiday). A friend has had major brain surgery today. And now this.
So, if you've got any really bad news, could you throw it at me now please, I'd rather get it out of the way.
Tia
Wednesday, 7 May 2008
"So what do you DO at home all day?"
Well now...
Today, apart from the normal getting children up and out of the house routine, and after a quick hop to the shops I turned a flowerbed from this:
to this:
Turns out not to have been buttercup (although there were plenty of buttercups too) but ground elder. Vast vast root system. Achey arms.
Underneath the weeds I found this:
I mowed the lawn, for a spot of light relief, and then it was time to go and collect Little Fish from preschool, and do some of this:
Not too long sitting down; we were interrupted by a gas and electric supply person wanting us to change suppliers and guaranteeing savings of £20 a month for doing so.
Not the salesman, but he did seem to think we were just hanging around waiting for him. This is our pet ladybird, she lives in our apple tree and her blades whizz in the wind. We like her.
Back to the garden for more digging, this time with a pair of purple gloves for Little Fish to match Mummy's. Sorry no photos of that!
Collect weeds into black binliners (no ground elder in my compost bin, thank you very much. Greet Mog from the bus. More weeding.
Potatoes in the oven, Mummy and Little Fish in the bath with Mog watching the potatoes. Mummy and Little Fish out of the bath no longer smelling of grass and sweat, dinner on the table and into open mouths and through to empty tummies. Two girls processed through the cleaning machine (oh how I wish, anyone want to invent one?) and into bed.
One Mummy in clean clothes ready for house group and wondering where the day went. And also wondering which is a better shot - this:
or this:
Should be a bumper year for apples by the looks of things.
I hope this makes up for the recent lack of photos!
Tia
Today, apart from the normal getting children up and out of the house routine, and after a quick hop to the shops I turned a flowerbed from this:
to this:
Turns out not to have been buttercup (although there were plenty of buttercups too) but ground elder. Vast vast root system. Achey arms.
Underneath the weeds I found this:
I mowed the lawn, for a spot of light relief, and then it was time to go and collect Little Fish from preschool, and do some of this:
Not too long sitting down; we were interrupted by a gas and electric supply person wanting us to change suppliers and guaranteeing savings of £20 a month for doing so.
Not the salesman, but he did seem to think we were just hanging around waiting for him. This is our pet ladybird, she lives in our apple tree and her blades whizz in the wind. We like her.Back to the garden for more digging, this time with a pair of purple gloves for Little Fish to match Mummy's. Sorry no photos of that!
Collect weeds into black binliners (no ground elder in my compost bin, thank you very much. Greet Mog from the bus. More weeding.
Potatoes in the oven, Mummy and Little Fish in the bath with Mog watching the potatoes. Mummy and Little Fish out of the bath no longer smelling of grass and sweat, dinner on the table and into open mouths and through to empty tummies. Two girls processed through the cleaning machine (oh how I wish, anyone want to invent one?) and into bed.
One Mummy in clean clothes ready for house group and wondering where the day went. And also wondering which is a better shot - this:
or this:
Should be a bumper year for apples by the looks of things.I hope this makes up for the recent lack of photos!
Tia
Tuesday, 6 May 2008
I know a bank where the wild buttercup grows
Our neighbours have shamed me into doing something about the front garden. Gardening is not my thing. We had a gardener for a while; he didn't do very much but he did mow the lawn and strim the edges and hedges once a fortnight in the summer. For the last two summers though I've had a builder's yard in the back garden and a builder's van in the front. Strangely enough, the gardener got disheartened and moved on to pastures (or lawns) new. Since then, the grass has grown, the dandelions have flourished, and the silvery coloured hedge plant of mystery has been slowly choked by goose grass and buttercups.
Our neighbours are mostly retired or semi retired (except the neighbour who makes my garden look good by using hers to store empty beer cans, broken buggies and stained mattresses. I am grateful to her). Gardens are immaculate, polished, worthy of a far wider audience than the eight of us and the scores of school children who pass this way each morning. With regular mowing, my garden doesn't compare to theirs, but still passes as acceptable. I have tried convincing them (and myself) that I am creating a butterfly meadow, but unfortunately the schoolchildren seem to mistake butterfly meadow for dustbin, and use it to file empty crisp packets, etc. Lovely.
Since Bob chased off the last gardener by effectively removing the garden, he offered to find a replacement. So far this has meant that on the rare days he visits himself, he brings a mower and does several hours in the garden before deciding there's no time to get on with his building work. I am attempting to discourage this, but withminimal no success. So, no more gardener, it's down to me. No problem, I have a trusty rusty lawnmower, I have hands, and I'm not afraid to use them. To the back of the house, where my nice manual mower sits protected by the overhang of the roof. No mower. To the garage, again no mower. Apparently Bob has taken my elderly but perfectly functional mower to the tip with the many bags of landfil. Marvellous.
OK, so, no mowing today (sorry neighbours). I start on the flower beds instead. Two hours later I realise that it is time to take Little Fish for her swimming lesson, and I have cleared approximately one metre of bed. We don't usually have buttercup like this, I don't know why it's suddenly appeared. Actually I think it's quite pretty, but the neighbours disagree. I have also within that one metre discovered a nesting slug (shudder), and a tribe of red ants. And assorted other minibeasts. Little Fish is intrigued.
Tomorrow then to finish clearing the flowerbeds and to try to track down a lawn mower. I need advice - what can I plant in this particular flowerbed (sunny in the mornings, shady by 2PM, right outside my bedroom window, on display to the world and his wife) that is completely maintenance free, will grow to window height but no more (and preferably without needing pruning), will choke out the buttercups and goose grass, and will generally look absolutely marvellous and fantastic? I don't think garden gnomes and statuettes would cut it somehow.
I am additionally debating whether to remove the lawn altogether and go for a 2nd parking space. But the only person who ever parks on the lawn is Bob, and I can't quite overcome my lingering vestiges of hope that one day he will finish and there will be no need for a space for him anymore.
Whether or not I swap lawn for parking (immediate neighbours have just gravelled the lot, saves a lot of effort but is horrible for wheelchairs), I have a further issue. Our upstairs neighbour's front door is to the side of our house. There is a little footpath beside my lawn leading to her entry. No one uses this footpath, everyone cuts across my lawn, as do at least 30% of the children making their way to school. Putting a low fence up to mark my boundary would either keep people off my garden (I don't actually mind them walking on the grass, I do mind them dumping their rubbish on it, exercising their dogs on it, parking their bikes on it, sitting and having a fag on it) or just irritate the people who are going to do this anyway, who will then take pleasure in destroying any fence or shrub type thing I put up. Thoughts?
I'd post pictures but a) the camera batteries are still charging (did find the charger though, yay me), and b) it's dark.
Gardening and Swimming, that's two lots of exercise in one day and definitely too much for me. Despite sitting up until ridiculously late last night Mog was still awake by 4 this morning, so I am off to bed. Exercise needs rewarding though, and I'm pretty sure I have some chocolate somewhere. I was hunting for chocolatey goodness online and came across this - what do you think?
What does your chocolate say about you?
Night
Tia
Our neighbours are mostly retired or semi retired (except the neighbour who makes my garden look good by using hers to store empty beer cans, broken buggies and stained mattresses. I am grateful to her). Gardens are immaculate, polished, worthy of a far wider audience than the eight of us and the scores of school children who pass this way each morning. With regular mowing, my garden doesn't compare to theirs, but still passes as acceptable. I have tried convincing them (and myself) that I am creating a butterfly meadow, but unfortunately the schoolchildren seem to mistake butterfly meadow for dustbin, and use it to file empty crisp packets, etc. Lovely.
Since Bob chased off the last gardener by effectively removing the garden, he offered to find a replacement. So far this has meant that on the rare days he visits himself, he brings a mower and does several hours in the garden before deciding there's no time to get on with his building work. I am attempting to discourage this, but with
OK, so, no mowing today (sorry neighbours). I start on the flower beds instead. Two hours later I realise that it is time to take Little Fish for her swimming lesson, and I have cleared approximately one metre of bed. We don't usually have buttercup like this, I don't know why it's suddenly appeared. Actually I think it's quite pretty, but the neighbours disagree. I have also within that one metre discovered a nesting slug (shudder), and a tribe of red ants. And assorted other minibeasts. Little Fish is intrigued.
Tomorrow then to finish clearing the flowerbeds and to try to track down a lawn mower. I need advice - what can I plant in this particular flowerbed (sunny in the mornings, shady by 2PM, right outside my bedroom window, on display to the world and his wife) that is completely maintenance free, will grow to window height but no more (and preferably without needing pruning), will choke out the buttercups and goose grass, and will generally look absolutely marvellous and fantastic? I don't think garden gnomes and statuettes would cut it somehow.
I am additionally debating whether to remove the lawn altogether and go for a 2nd parking space. But the only person who ever parks on the lawn is Bob, and I can't quite overcome my lingering vestiges of hope that one day he will finish and there will be no need for a space for him anymore.
Whether or not I swap lawn for parking (immediate neighbours have just gravelled the lot, saves a lot of effort but is horrible for wheelchairs), I have a further issue. Our upstairs neighbour's front door is to the side of our house. There is a little footpath beside my lawn leading to her entry. No one uses this footpath, everyone cuts across my lawn, as do at least 30% of the children making their way to school. Putting a low fence up to mark my boundary would either keep people off my garden (I don't actually mind them walking on the grass, I do mind them dumping their rubbish on it, exercising their dogs on it, parking their bikes on it, sitting and having a fag on it) or just irritate the people who are going to do this anyway, who will then take pleasure in destroying any fence or shrub type thing I put up. Thoughts?
I'd post pictures but a) the camera batteries are still charging (did find the charger though, yay me), and b) it's dark.
Gardening and Swimming, that's two lots of exercise in one day and definitely too much for me. Despite sitting up until ridiculously late last night Mog was still awake by 4 this morning, so I am off to bed. Exercise needs rewarding though, and I'm pretty sure I have some chocolate somewhere. I was hunting for chocolatey goodness online and came across this - what do you think?
What does your chocolate say about you?
What Your Taste in Chocolate Says About You |
 You are sweet, mellow, and easily satisfied. You don't like anything too intense and dramatic. Deep down, you're a kid at heart... and you're nostalgic for the past. You are honest and straight forward. You have a distinct personality, and you make your opinions known. And while people like that you keep it real, you can come off as judgmental. You love being by yourself and thinking. Developing your own theories and ideas is fun. You feel lost when you're forced to be social. Being with other people can be lonely for you. |
Night
Tia
Monday, 5 May 2008
I'm a winner!
Thank you, Little Jenny Wren. Little Jenny Wren makes the most beautiful little dolls (amongst other things). We had one which we all fell in love with, and when we accidentally left her behind at a service station, Jenny kindly agreed to make another to the same specifications, all whilst her daughter was recovering from a nasty illness.
Little Fish is rather fond - here's a photograph from last weekend, when she was giving "Baby" a turn on the roundabout. I'd take a better photo but I can't find the battery charger. Or the spare battery - I know I had both in Florida and I'm sure I've seen one since. Somewhere.
Jenny herself says I don't have a present organised but I will think of something, perhaps a little quilt, that would be fun. Can't wait to see what it will be!
For now though all is quiet except the gentle rattle and hum of Little Fish's Nippy, so I shall take myself off to bed. I leave you with a random thought - one piece of junk mail made its way past my filter this afternoon and contained nothing but the following line "Your anaconda will finally be deemed swamp thing" together with an URL. It's an intriguing thought, but I'm not sure I'll be clicking on the link!
Tia
Little Fish is rather fond - here's a photograph from last weekend, when she was giving "Baby" a turn on the roundabout. I'd take a better photo but I can't find the battery charger. Or the spare battery - I know I had both in Florida and I'm sure I've seen one since. Somewhere.Jenny herself says I don't have a present organised but I will think of something, perhaps a little quilt, that would be fun. Can't wait to see what it will be!
For now though all is quiet except the gentle rattle and hum of Little Fish's Nippy, so I shall take myself off to bed. I leave you with a random thought - one piece of junk mail made its way past my filter this afternoon and contained nothing but the following line "Your anaconda will finally be deemed swamp thing" together with an URL. It's an intriguing thought, but I'm not sure I'll be clicking on the link!
Tia
Family things
The girls (and I) had a long day yesterday. Up at silly o'clock in the morning, in order to be at a small village 4 hours' away by 11AM. But worth it; we were attending a service to celebrate a 60th wedding anniversary. My Great Aunt and Great Uncle, their local parish church, a whole clan gathering and a really jolly nice day.
Anyone an Archers fan? I can't decide whether the Anniversarians are Brian and Jenny (without the infidelity) or Peggy and Jack (without the Alzheimers). Either way, held in great regard, important to the family, the church and the community, and been in the area for generations. Oh, and farming farming farming!
Growing up, my grandmother and her siblings lived in a village just a few miles from where we went yesterday. When the service had finished, we were chatting in the church, and a stained glass window was pointed out to us. This window had been donated in memory of my great great grandfather. On chatting to my grandmother and admiring the window, she pointed out a screen in the corner of the church, which had a cluster of adult angels on in, playing musical instruments. Apparently, my great great grandmother was the model for the violin- (or was it a lute-?) playing angel. So Little Fish got to admire (from a suitably safe distance) a painting of her great great great grandmother. An unexpected bonus to the day.
Back to the village hall for lunch (I'm sure proper Archers/Aldridges would have managed to book Grey Gables but this did us very nicely thank you!), and to admire old posters from village and church fetes of days gone by. The fetes in the 1950s looked like fun; amongst the entertainments offered were portrait paintings, donkey rides, and "horrible experiences in the vicarage attics"! The mind boggles.
An older poster has also got me thinking. The poster for 1897 boasted "Pig Pelting" as one of the main attractions. Sadly, although there were guests who could remember the "horrible experiences" (and they turn out to have been a creepy tour of the attics to scare small children), no one present at our lunch in 2008 was around for the 1897 fete, and a quick google has let me down too. Anyone care to enlighten me?
A very nice day, lovely lunch - local vegetables, local beef, family and friends to share it with. Little Fish scored double helpings by noticing that Grannie and Grandad's table was being fed before ours, so she beetled off tosteal carrots and potatoes share their bounty before coming back to mug me for a share of my own meal generously reduce the amount of food available to me and thus help me with my healthy eating. Mog was of course with us too, but unfortunately having a very twitchy day. Apart from the odd sideswipe at passing guests to show off her pretty dress and shoes, she slept most of the day, so missed out. She can't have been well - she even slept through the offer of chocolate cake!
We heaved ourselves up from the tables in time to creak our way to the van and home again. Had to stop half way home since despite having had two tables' worth of food, Little Fish is a creature of habit, and her habit of eating an evening meal was not going to be broken for such minor inconveniences as having enjoyed a 3 hour lunch. Thank goodness she now eats cheese sandwiches; it does make driving and feeding her much simpler. Mog snoozed the whole way home, rolled into bed and slept all night too. I could get used to that.
I'm so sorry no pictures; I forgot my camera and have been kicking myself about it all day. One day I shall go back and display the greats for all the world to see.
Today I took my camera with me when we went out, and was prepared to take dozens of pictures of the most beautiful bluebell wood I've seen in a long time. But Little Fish has been playing, and the battery was completely flat. This, of course, meant that I would for the first time see a peacock actually displaying his tailfeathers, rotating repeatedly to show the world his display, shaking his fan to attract the peahen (and being nearly decapitated by other visitors playing frisbee but I suspect that would not have been so photo-worthy). It's the first time, for that matter, that I've seen four peacocks squabbling over a peahen, and the first time I've watched a peacock choke on a lump of bread (not our bread) - Mum and I did debate how you'd give mouth to mouth to a large blue bird, but thankfully he managed to clear it by himself. Big birds doing weird things and appearing to be completely tame; this did not do anything to convince Little Fish that birds are harmless little scared things that will run away if you go near them. Mog was highly amused though.
So amused in fact that she's been laughing about it all evening and has only in the last 10 minutes consented to go to bed. I'm hoping that keeping her up will stop the habit she's developed of waking at 2AM. I'm also hoping that the neighbours might stop drilling holes in the wall some time fairly soon.
Must go and find the battery charger
Tia
Anyone an Archers fan? I can't decide whether the Anniversarians are Brian and Jenny (without the infidelity) or Peggy and Jack (without the Alzheimers). Either way, held in great regard, important to the family, the church and the community, and been in the area for generations. Oh, and farming farming farming!
Growing up, my grandmother and her siblings lived in a village just a few miles from where we went yesterday. When the service had finished, we were chatting in the church, and a stained glass window was pointed out to us. This window had been donated in memory of my great great grandfather. On chatting to my grandmother and admiring the window, she pointed out a screen in the corner of the church, which had a cluster of adult angels on in, playing musical instruments. Apparently, my great great grandmother was the model for the violin- (or was it a lute-?) playing angel. So Little Fish got to admire (from a suitably safe distance) a painting of her great great great grandmother. An unexpected bonus to the day.
Back to the village hall for lunch (I'm sure proper Archers/Aldridges would have managed to book Grey Gables but this did us very nicely thank you!), and to admire old posters from village and church fetes of days gone by. The fetes in the 1950s looked like fun; amongst the entertainments offered were portrait paintings, donkey rides, and "horrible experiences in the vicarage attics"! The mind boggles.
An older poster has also got me thinking. The poster for 1897 boasted "Pig Pelting" as one of the main attractions. Sadly, although there were guests who could remember the "horrible experiences" (and they turn out to have been a creepy tour of the attics to scare small children), no one present at our lunch in 2008 was around for the 1897 fete, and a quick google has let me down too. Anyone care to enlighten me?
A very nice day, lovely lunch - local vegetables, local beef, family and friends to share it with. Little Fish scored double helpings by noticing that Grannie and Grandad's table was being fed before ours, so she beetled off to
We heaved ourselves up from the tables in time to creak our way to the van and home again. Had to stop half way home since despite having had two tables' worth of food, Little Fish is a creature of habit, and her habit of eating an evening meal was not going to be broken for such minor inconveniences as having enjoyed a 3 hour lunch. Thank goodness she now eats cheese sandwiches; it does make driving and feeding her much simpler. Mog snoozed the whole way home, rolled into bed and slept all night too. I could get used to that.
I'm so sorry no pictures; I forgot my camera and have been kicking myself about it all day. One day I shall go back and display the greats for all the world to see.
Today I took my camera with me when we went out, and was prepared to take dozens of pictures of the most beautiful bluebell wood I've seen in a long time. But Little Fish has been playing, and the battery was completely flat. This, of course, meant that I would for the first time see a peacock actually displaying his tailfeathers, rotating repeatedly to show the world his display, shaking his fan to attract the peahen (and being nearly decapitated by other visitors playing frisbee but I suspect that would not have been so photo-worthy). It's the first time, for that matter, that I've seen four peacocks squabbling over a peahen, and the first time I've watched a peacock choke on a lump of bread (not our bread) - Mum and I did debate how you'd give mouth to mouth to a large blue bird, but thankfully he managed to clear it by himself. Big birds doing weird things and appearing to be completely tame; this did not do anything to convince Little Fish that birds are harmless little scared things that will run away if you go near them. Mog was highly amused though.
So amused in fact that she's been laughing about it all evening and has only in the last 10 minutes consented to go to bed. I'm hoping that keeping her up will stop the habit she's developed of waking at 2AM. I'm also hoping that the neighbours might stop drilling holes in the wall some time fairly soon.
Must go and find the battery charger
Tia
Saturday, 3 May 2008
Keep your friends close, your toddlers closer
A beautiful afternoon. Mild, sunny, a refreshing breeze wafting the scent of apple blossom across the garden. Bliss. Mog outside enjoying a balmy spring day. Me, inside, housekeeping catching up on emails. Little Fish beetling about between the two of us, doing wheelies down the ramps to the garden to check on Mog, then zipping back into the sitting room to talk to me.
Peace.
Relaxation.
Calm, quiet, rest.
No hang on, that's too quiet, better investigate.
And there's Little Fish, in the kitchen, eating peanut butter straight out of the jar.
So I clean her up, make a mental note to find some kind of child lock for the pantry (but what? the ones I have for the bleach cupboard and the drugs cupboard won't fit), pootle around for a few minutes and decide to check on Mog, who is still cooing softly in the garden.
I walk outside and discover it is raining. This doesn't bother Mog, but since she's out there in a Tshirt and trousers, wheelchair reclined as far back as it will go, she is effectively being drowned by the spectacularly large raindrops. Much as she appears to be enjoying the experience, I feel she ought really to come back inside. *
Both girls enjoyed a refreshing and cleansing protracted bath this afternoon. The radio was on and they had the expensive bubble bath, I'm sure that counts as a nice multisensory activity doesn't it?
Then I got them out, and between the two of them they managed to urinate on four bath towels.
Happy days.
Tia
*I should, I suppose, be grateful to Little Fish for raiding the peanut butter jar - I doubt very much she'd have told me it was raining, so had I not gone to investigate her explorations Mog might have been sitting out there for quite a bit longer. I like to think I would have noticed. At least at the point when the rain was falling heavily enough to drown out her joyous spring song.
Peace.
Relaxation.
Calm, quiet, rest.
No hang on, that's too quiet, better investigate.
And there's Little Fish, in the kitchen, eating peanut butter straight out of the jar.
So I clean her up, make a mental note to find some kind of child lock for the pantry (but what? the ones I have for the bleach cupboard and the drugs cupboard won't fit), pootle around for a few minutes and decide to check on Mog, who is still cooing softly in the garden.
I walk outside and discover it is raining. This doesn't bother Mog, but since she's out there in a Tshirt and trousers, wheelchair reclined as far back as it will go, she is effectively being drowned by the spectacularly large raindrops. Much as she appears to be enjoying the experience, I feel she ought really to come back inside. *
Both girls enjoyed a refreshing and cleansing protracted bath this afternoon. The radio was on and they had the expensive bubble bath, I'm sure that counts as a nice multisensory activity doesn't it?
Then I got them out, and between the two of them they managed to urinate on four bath towels.
Happy days.
Tia
*I should, I suppose, be grateful to Little Fish for raiding the peanut butter jar - I doubt very much she'd have told me it was raining, so had I not gone to investigate her explorations Mog might have been sitting out there for quite a bit longer. I like to think I would have noticed. At least at the point when the rain was falling heavily enough to drown out her joyous spring song.
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