(no subject)

I came home today to find a dead rat in my sitting room. One of the perils of cat ownership combined with cat flappery. It's not the first creature I've found, and this one had the bonus (from my perspective of course) of being dead and therefore not flying/running/hopping about the house squealing and shedding feathers and shit. Not quite sure then, why the sight of this creature reduced me to hysterical tears. hmm. -My dad is a sweetheart tho, instead of me stoically gathering the corpse for a dustpan disposal as normal, I phoned Mum - she told dad, and even before she'd twigged that I was aweeping and awailing he was on his way round to rescue me. -(He was a bit shocked therefore when I opened the door tearstained and sobbing, but dealt with the additional crisis admirably!)

After this storm had passed:
I took my injured chum to Kessingland to the opening of a new gallery and on to somerleyton for a party - abandoned her there tho and went on to a bbq held by another friend. Now I'm going to have a scone and clotted cream, and a nice cup of coffee. then bed.

oh and I'll cut the rest, cos other people's dreams not really interesting:-
( Read more... )