And there was me thinking I was going to have a quiet day.
It started well enough - bit of reading in bed with a cup of tea. I have almost finished this...
...which has been a jolly interesting read, especially as the outcome of the divorce case between Lord Worsley and his wife, Seymour, hung on a particularly distasteful event that occured, in all places, at a bath house in Maidstone! The couple were encamped for a while also with the militia at Coxheath, which is the next village along from the one I grew up in. Nothing like a bit of local historical scandal to keep one reading.
Anyway, today I planned to spend the morning blitz-tidying my arty-crafty writing room whilst listening to The Archers Omnibus, Desert Island Discs and Just a Minute, have a spot of lunch, and then spend the afternoon knitting or sewing or possibly going crazy and doing a little bit of both.
All went well for a while - I was making excellent headway untangling my wool drawer, sorting out patterns, separating my sequins, that kind of jazz - when Chris arrived with his girls. Whilst Kayleigh disappeared into Andy's study to engage him in a heady and unnecessarily competitive round or two of a 'My Little Pony' video game, Elizabeth shot up the stairs, marched into my arty-crafty writing room and proceeded to rearrange a shelf or two. She also tried sharpening her increasingly numerous collection of teeth on my piece of amethyst crystal. Set MY teeth on edge, that did. She then demanded I take her to see the hens by shouting, 'CHICKENS!' and making 'chuck chuck' noises with her tongue.
After they left, I checked my email to find two magazine articles had arrived for me to proofread and edit. For tomorrow morning. First thing. Aaarghhhh!!! And I was halfway through editing the first one when Mum phoned.
'Is it okay if I pop over for a visit?' she said.
So I said yes, and so she did. And we caught up with gossip over a cup of tea, and then she went home and I went back to editing but not before I noticed Tybalt chewing on one of the logs by the wood-burner. (We were glad of the woodburner last night - the boiler is still out of action and likely to be for at least another 2 weeks.)
'Tybalt is eating wood!' I shrieked. 'Why is Tybalt eating wood?'
'Aaah,' said The Vet Andy, 'that'll be pica. Oftens happens to animal when their immune system has been compromised. I expect his vitamin B injection has worn off.'
Well! I can't be doing with Tybalt chomping on logs, and I DEFINITELY can't be doing with him nibbling on cat litter (we use the wood-based stuff. When I say 'we' I mean the cats. Not me. I use a loo. Potty trained, I am. In the old-fashioned way.) So, because I associate vitamin B with good old Marmite, every time Tybalt has ventured near the wood pile this afternoon I have lunged at him with the Marmite jar. All the cats like Marmite, which is good - I am not sure how much Tybalt will continue to like it after my wood aversion Marmite therapy campaign has been running for a day or two.
Meanwhile, Andy was making chilli jam using our vast collection of chilli peppers of varying hotness that have been growing in the greenhouse but were harvested yesterday.
It smells blooming marvellous and tastes like very good high end chilli jam of the kind you might find in Harrods Food Hall at a gazzillion pounds a pop. And the clearing out of the greenhouse has made space for me to sow the sweet pea seeds that I saved from this year's sweet peas, and so the sweet pea circle of life continues!
And now, if you don't mind, with my arty-crafty writing room spick 'n' span, the articles proofread and edited and Tybalt asleep by my side, I have a baked apple to tackle...