The stuff arrived from Australia today.
I had forgotten that we owned most of it – and some of it I am sure I have never seen before. But it has all been tucked away in the loft and there it shall remain until we leave these fair shores.
Except of course for the gardening implements. The rakes and shovels will be useful – as will the garden clippers – but I am not sure about the sledge hammer. Why have I got a sledge hammer?
The man arrived to fix the cooling. He found one problem and fixed it – but there is another one – which requires parts which need to be ordered.
The good news is that the dampers which were ordered a month or so ago have arrived. They apparently came by steamboat from Ouagadougou.
Cate has decided to buy a dog. A large dog. I have described to her in great detail the debacle which will take place when the cats meet the dog.
She has brushed this off and said everything will be just fine.
She is not the one who will have to deal with the complete nervous collapse and lengthy recuperation of Monika – who at the best of times is frighteningly fragile and runs and hides at the sound of butterfly wings flapping.
It had better be a really big dog or Sissi will kill it and eat it on sight.
So now I need to organize fences and plan feeding stations and suchlike logistics because Cate is getting the dog but Muggins will be dealing with the daily consequences.
I have had the smell of goats in my nostrils since she gave me this news.
And I am not 75 – I am not even 70 – but am galloping towards it.