Confessions of an Author

Feeling Frazzled 5 Feeling rather frazzled as I write this. There are several reasons, but the main one is a mouse, in the house, which is never a welcome adventure. Now, I am quite good with animals in general, and I think that other than spiders, I could sensibly handle any animal, big or small, that I needed to – if it was contained. But there is something about rodents, especially mice and rats, which, when I encounter them running around freely, makes me scream like a girl. Not really sure why. We still have the painter/decorator in the house (possibly another reason for feeling frazzled) and he had just started to prepare the recently emptied lounge, when he mentioned that a mouse had run the length of the hall and disappeared under the study door. Super news, just what I was hoping to hear. Old incontinent cat. I collected old incontinent cat from her new home in the garage (she can’t live in the utility room while the painter is here) and dumped her in the stu...

One Little Life One Little Life We had rats. Anyone who has poultry and a pond has rats. If you also have several mild winters, you then have a rat problem. Mr Rat Catcher came with traps and poison, but we still had a rat problem. So, we decided to get cats. We found some cats that had been born in a stable, not feral as they had been well cared for, but they were used to living outside. We bought two, Milly and Molly, brought them home, and put them in the garage. For three days, I didn’t see them, and wondered if they had escaped! Then I took the dog into the garage with me, and two tiny kittens tentatively appeared. They had been raised on a farm with German Shepherd dogs, and they recognised Kia as a friend. Gradually they learned to like us too. When they were bigger, they moved to their home in the workshop. Two cats weren’t really enough to cure the rat problem, so we didn’t spey Milly and Molly. After about eighteen months, both were pregnant. Between them, the...

This Week Hello, how was your week? Mine has been a nice mix of work and other stuff. It started with the Men’s Annual Croquet Cup, which is held every year in our garden. Husband is very keen on croquet, and I absolutely refuse to ever play, because it’s a horrid nasty game involving hand-eye co-ordination (which I don’t posses) and an evil temperament (which I do posses, but try to keep under control). When, in the past, I did play, it was always my ball that Husband sent spinning off into the bushes. So now he has to organise a church event, and get lots of blokes round to play. I think it went okay, I just had to provide drinks and snacks and keep out the way. The prize is a big ugly rubber-glove mould, which Husband found in a shop in NY. No-one wants to win it, so it is a game of skill, as they all try to be good enough to reach the last post, but then fluff those final shots so someone else has to take home the ugly prize. I’ve also spent lots of time cooking fruit...

A Cautionary Tale Mabel was a black labrador and when the Bond family first took her home, she entered it like a small tornado. Everything was exciting! She was just one big wiggle with a tail attached. Whenever she saw someone she would fling herself onto her back, exposing her round pink tummy for tickles. Sometimes she even produced small puddles in excitement. She was the happiest puppy you could hope to own. However, not everyone was delighted by her arrival. Suki was a mottled brown cat who was aged about four years old and eminently logical. She had inherited her sleek superiority from her Siamese mother and her deft ability as a mouser from her wild Tom father. She watched Mabel from the safety of the dresser and puffed her tail in a show of anger. She could really see no use at all for this giddy addition to the family and considered moving out. Mabel grew. She was not a dog who showed great intelligence but no one could doubt her affection. When she was shouted at f...