Friday, 14 October 2011


I have a rat in my bungalow; I don’t mean a two legged one I mean a proper one.
It seems he is very partial to custard creams and my apples, and has even pinched chocolates that were in there wrappers in a box on the table.
To say I hate rats is an understatement they freak me out, so tonight I am going to stay at my daughters. There is absolutely no way that I am sharing my home with a rat.
A friend has brought a rat trap and says he will ring me in the morning, I have told him to ring on my mobile as I would not be at home. I really don’t care if they are more frightened of me than I am of them; it is not possible for anything to feel worse than I do.
Not even my hot tub can keep me at home, so you can see what he has managed to achieve. I keep thinking that he must have been around as I was innocently pottering.
When told today that I should be wearing shoes and not go around bare footed as I usually do, I instantly went and put some on which to be honest is an absolute first. My normal answer is that if my dad could not get me to do it after 60 years what chance has anyone else.
Please tell me this is not going to be an on-going saga, as I can feel My Mate Parky using it to have a field day.

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