It turns out that when you live in a village and the wind blows, it can blow the electricity out. I slept through it but James came and woke my master and mistress to tell them. My mistress said she would have been happy to sleep through it too. Instead she lay there thinking about not being able to have a cup of coffee or a warm shower. When she woke again later it was to find the power restored and all worries had been needless.
James’s friend hasn’t come to stay, so there aren’t so many people to play with. I’m writing this while the others have gone out to feed the ducks and go for a pub brunch. I don’t think the ducks and the brunch are connected, but I might go and count them later just to be on the safe side.
My mistress is thrilled to bits to find that she has been shortlisted in another competition, something called a sonnet, which she tried to explain to me has a special meter and rhyming pattern but I got lost when she started using words like ‘iambic’. What’s the point in saying you are a type of biro? The actual poem wasn’t about me either, so I lost interest and came back to my own writing.
The other funny thing that has happened is that the wardrobes from Ikea have been delivered. The funny bit is watching my master and mistress with a screwdriver and the instructions. To be fair, my mistress was the one looking at the instructions, my master prefers to build it the wrong way round than follow a guide. I think it is a male pride thing. My mistress has no illusions that she ought to know how something fits together, my master assumes it ought to be obvious and is amazed when he discovers there may be more than one way the parts fit together. Still, they look very nice that way round, it’s just a shame they’re unusable!