Tweedledee

It's very warm outside today, and as a result there's the slightest hint of rat pee floating around our siting room. It's been a long time since little Cas died, but he's certainly come back for a visit today. All I can think is that the warm air has heated the carpet a little and released the stench of ratty ammonia! Ghastly!

We've sat in the sitting room all day, staring out at the yellow buds on the trees opposite, wishing we could be in a park, or in a pool somewhere. 

Instead we've been sorting out the quiz - a job we've been putting off for rather too long whilst waiting to see what's happening with Nathan's computer. Bizarrely, it looks like the tiny computer repair shop on our street might actually succeed in finding Nathan'a deleted files where the people in Gamlingay failed. It's going to take time, however, so we've had to start rewriting lost rounds. I can't tell you how angry I am with the Gamlingay people. They have wasted so much of our time and money. It costs about £30 in petrol to go there and back.

There's not a lot else to say. Our friend, the lovely Mark, dropped in for tea, which gave us a necessary leg-stretch. 

The rest of the day we've been like Tweedledum and Tweedledee on the sofa. Every so often I'd do twenty minutes on the Arts Council application, then we'd download another song and have a think about questions for another round. 

Round and round in circles this day's gone, so much that at about 10pm I had to take myself for a run around the block because I'd been staring at a computer for too long.

Actually, we did go out, briefly, down to Dartmouth Park to see the venue for our quiz; a beautiful little church hall which reminded me of a million village halls in a million villages across the UK. The only thing missing is a huge union flag and a portrait of the queen. 

The woman who runs it is as charming and gloriously eccentric as any woman I've met. When we said goodbye she grabbed us both and kissed us twice on each cheek! So sweet.