Faffing

Faffing about, taking care of last minute bits, including a smidge of hepatitis work. This of course reminds me... Q: What's the most dangerous insect in the world? A: The hepatitis bee.

Luckily for Calliope and my fishy friends, Lorraine's parents Pat and Maureen are going to be staying in the twitten while I am gone. This very kind, and I hope they enjoy a pied-à-terre in the centre of Brighton. Their imminent arrival however has necessitated a general scrubbing of things today to conceal the debased nature of my housecleaning. It also forced me to stash crack pipe, snuff movies, side arms etc. in case they get some funny ideas about me.

Calliope standing forlornly in my case as I pack it.

Walking improving all the time. Depressingly, though, I have undone all the good gym work while sprawling on my gold sofa like Jabba the Hut in the last few weeks.

Spoke to Toby and Mum, and Romy sent me a note to say it is 39C in Toronto with pictures of meatball experiencing its first heatwave. God willing, I shall be rumpling Meaty's head tomorrow. My whole family is now mad for cats, and it is Romy's fault.

Quite annoyed with Lorraine as it transpires that she doesn't particularly like flying. I patiently explained there is only room for one neurotic in this relationship, and that's me.

Below Calliope's Canadian cousin, Meatball.