Rat wrestling

Decided to not to flog the horses, and then ended doing quite a bit of writing on Grace 2. Took a stroll around the parks. Good to speak to Anton, who found himself being upgraded on empty flights and in empty hotels on his business trip to Dublin last week, and has just bought some new walking shoes. Spoke to Mum who told me two ghastly tales. One about rat wrestling, with poor Ben across the road being obliged to boot the rat that was trapped in Mum and Mas's house out through the kitchen door. Last night Mum also broke a tooth, which is now being temporarily held together with dental glue.

A Sainsbury's delivery this evening. A whole list of substitutions, and no toilet paper because of panic buying. It is as if there was going to be a zombie apocalypse twinned with with a nasty outbreak of diarrhoea. This, of course, is due next year.

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