A Steamy Affair...

Little did I know when I wrote my blog yesterday how my life was about to change thanks to my new steam cleaner. What a little gem it is! Whilst the rest of the country had to endure a day of freezing fog stuck in an endless traffic jam, I was in steam heaven. With the touch of a button I removed dried frog goo, coagulated mouse parts, and clods of ingrained mud. And that was just from the dining room table...No seriously. The thing really works. I don't want to boast but when I looked at my kitchen floor this morning all I could think of was... King's College Chapel! And I received a full facial into the bargain...If any of you are thinking of turning your back garden into a wildlife haven, I'd say get one of these for the house before you start. Today I'm going to concentrate on upgrading my bird feeding/bathing facilities, as I've noticed that the people across the way, who used to provide a haven for all our feathered friends have apparently left. As I look across at their magnificent but now empty bird table I can see the puzzled birds coming and going. Bloody hell it's freezing out there! I'll make them a little jacuzzi I think and try the peanut feeder again. Perhaps now they're desperate they'll try them.

La Vie En Rose

In my haste to post on Saturday, I forgot to mention a Friday key event which may highlight for you the difficulties involved in the recyclers world. I woke up to find a large, dead mouse in the middle of the living room floor. Picking it up I realised that I didn't know which bin I should put it in. Intuitively, one might have thought that an ex-living creature should go in the Green Bin, but on the other hand, a lot of things one might thus put in the green bin, such a dog poo, do not go in the Green Bin, but must be wrapped up and put in the Black Bin. What was I to do? Yet another call to the Council's environmental officer? ('Yes, Mrs Barker, I quite understand your dilemma' said in a ravishing Irish accent). But it was late, and allotment duty called, so I threw it out in the back garden. Later that evening, as I tried to watch my sofa cinema film 'La Vie En Rose', my cats returned the mouse and appeared to play an advanced form of handball with it. It is now stuffed into the Green Bin. Life continues. Today I'm going to try out my new lightweight steam cleaner. I've already had a guy from their marketing department ring me up to ask me how happy I am with it. 'I'm as happy as anyone ever could be with a new, portable steam cleaner' I replied. I didn't tell him I'm mad. A friend has just told me he cannot receive my colourful Facebook offerings because they may be 'vectors of malware'. Is he OK, or has he gone completely paranoid? Keep reading this blog!

Shakin' Stevens

I wasn't going to write to you today, but it's been such a RED LETTER DAY, as we say, that I thought I must. As you know we had no allotment group scheduled so I agreed to collect money for our mental health charity outside Tescos. Of course, I dressed for the occasion with my new bright red furry jacket, large Russian hat (well it was freezing cold), and natty little mouse pin whose eyes light up and play Jingle Bells when its nose is pressed. I was soon into the swing of things calling out, 'Save the Mad. We can't help it!' and gathering in pots of money, when our leader informed me I mustn't use the word mad as it would upset the others. But, I said, I'm mad myself. Really, he said, I would never have guessed. But, I said, I thought we were all mad in this charity. Surely you're not telling me you're sane? He took my point. Suddenly he did something quite amazing and totally illegal: he shook his tin! Despite my protests he continued. Won't it be fun when we get arrested? he kept saying. Eventually the store manager came out and told him to stop. Anyway, it was great fun for an hour, but I have to say two and a half hours (which I later found out I'd been scheduled to do) was a bit much. I was amazed at how generous the citizens of Cambridge were, especially as this week we've had a real shock. We've been told we must put out next week's bins a day early and the week after next's a day later. It's all so complex! I came home to find the street deserted. Perhaps everyone has cracked under the strain? How relieved I was to enter my front door and find the beautiful pot pourri I'd made still in place and covering the rampant smell of cat's (or cats') pee magnificently. If you want to know how it's done: you open a few packets of spices from the local Indian (or Pakistani) shop into a large tray; over the top of this you place bay leaves, rosemary and sprigs of anything with red berries; then you nestle in amongst this four oranges which have been generously spiked with whole cloves. So simple, so cheap, and quite, quite wonderful!