Bertie has been in a scrap. Or, perchance, he’s had an accident. At any rate, the tubby tabby cat suffered a lot of bruising and swelling to his chest area, and has had to have an operation.
I’ve made another irrational purchase. Two in fact. The second need not detain us. It’s a tin of wood stain that I bought for the floors. Purchased online, it arrived next day, and turned out to be for exterior use only.
I have developed a phobia. It’s arguably my only one. Like many decent ratepayers, I am afraid of spiders, but a phobia is an irrational fear, and it seems to me perfectly sensible to fear spiders. All these legs!
I have a new toy or hobby: cement. My unlikely love for this grey matter started when I needed to replace a missing brick at the top of the shoogly steps that lead into the back-garden.
All I want for Christmas is a parking space. One of the worst things about being back in the city is not having a place to park.
I was having a perfectly pleasant discussion with an older friend about the many shortcomings of the modern world when something she said put me in a quandary.
Well, have I had a time of it? I can answer that question quite easily: yes, I have had a time of it.
I have created a little bit of magic. It came out about when I needed some light in the darkness in the back garden.
I was intrigued to read about a bed and breakfast establishment in Blairgowrie which had puts its chickens in high-visibility jackets to protect them when they crossed the road.
I reeled back in shock and spat my breakfast Honey Loops across the room. Could this learned article in one of the nation’s public prints be correct?