Why do I need one of these, when I have..
One of these?
Jessie, cat-with-attitude, the best mouser in town, she who takes from the wild to release into captivity. Don't let her fool you, she's virtually toothless, she just refuses to give up the game. By the time she wraps her gums around any mouse and lugs it indoors, she's either too knackered to chase it, or her Alzheimer's has kicked in.
Add into the mix..
One of these
slave-boyfriend, bearing MacDonalds/Indian Take-Away/Chinese Carry-Out deliveries to her room on her whim.
Is it any wonder The Meeces have taken to frolicking wild with their all-night parties, tap-dancing across her floor to feast off those generously overflowing bins of hers?
Which is why, these past few mornings, I've found myself..
Tossing the fat, noisy squatters reluctantly out of their
cozy, warm, cheese-carpeted den traps, to go forth and multiply, as they say.
Island life is throwing out it's usual challenges as the weather turns. The faster Sea-Cat ferry to the mainland is made mostly redundant, unable as it is to navigate the increasingly choppy waters of the Irish Sea. So it's over to our old sloth, the lumbering "Ben-my-chree" (pronounced Ben McRee), which almost always appears to have one or the other of her engines out - not that it necessarily stops her making the crossing, but it does tend to make it so much more of a labour, adding as it does the odd extra hour (or two or three) on to the journey.
So it was, when Sweet Sam, hubby and I took the car over to Liverpool, last week, what should have been a two-and-a-half hour ride on the Sea-Cat, stretched out to a long five hours on the Ben-my-chree. We were headed for Newcastle, to visit our eldest in his University town (a further five hour drive on from Liverpool), and to drop him off a few "care-packages" for this new house-share of his.
In truth, we were lucky it sailed at all, we've recently had days where every crossing has been cancelled altogether. Only this morning I received a call from my beloved Tesco supermarket, telling me there are to be no groceries delivered to my door this week. My heart is in my boots, as I'll now have to battle the aisles in person tomorrow. When the ferries don't get in, neither do the food supplies; there'll be lean pickings on the shelves come the morn. I also hear there are more storms predicted for the morrow, and we are to be cut off for another day yet.
But I digress.
As luck would have it, Sam was well amused on both the journey out and on the crossing back - a bunch of his special-needs pals were on the ferry with us. All twelve, plus carers, were headed off overnight to watch the Liverpool v Wolves football match. Sam had also been invited along to this jaunt, but as it sadly clashed with our trip, he'd had to decline, so it was a pleasant coincidence he was still able to meet up with his friends, all the same. Actually, I hardly saw anything at all of him throughout the entire sailing!
Matt, our eldest, did us proud, giving us the grand tour of his new home town, and introducing us round to all nine of his house-mates. (They all met last year, in halls - now they and ten more others have elected to rent two houses next door to each other, this year - and yes, I would certainly hate to be one of those poor residents currently living on their street.. imagine having 20 students for neighbours - eeek!)
The lad appears to be thriving, he certainly seems happy enough. I had to laugh at the end of the meal we had, he doesn't eat out much these-days, and when the waiter came to clear off, he asked him to bag up our left-overs to take home. Waste not, want not - the sound motto of a starving student!
It's the first time we've ever left the girls home alone, and they truly lived to my expectations (sigh). Seems in our absence, they threw the bestest party in town.
Naturally, their allowances are frozen until the damages are paid.. soooooooooo, that'll probably be somewhere around mid, umm, lets see.. 2014? Och, don't worry, I'm only yanking their chain - truth be told, I actually expected to come home to a heck of a lot worse (but please don't go out and tell them that, okay?)!
I'm embarrassed to have three Christmas trees up before December - our main one is still to go up on the first. Don't blame me, you know what our Sweet Sam is like - I simply caved, I had to for a bit of peace. Wouldn't be so bad if we didn't also have the decorators in right now - as if they didn't already think this was a nut-house from the last time round.
Oh, and yeah, well when I say "we", that's the Royal "WE", of course - seeing as how hubby's craftily timed himself to be in London throughout their entire occupation - he's conveniently not coming back until they're all finished up and long gone.
Awwwwww, as I type, both Sweet Sam and Jake are sporting stripes of matching white gloss paint between them - how sweet is that, eh?
('Scuse me, just whizzing off to dig out my camera, a cloth, and a very large bottle of white spirit..)