Another Friday so here’s another summery of the week that was. My baby girl has managed to say dadadada which is great, she’s been able to say mumumu for a while. She can also move her little bouncy chair across the floor, always towards the television. I think that CBeebies is delaying her desire to dominate the earth and subjugate all life, god bless the BBC and the Fimbles. On another note it turns out she may have an allergy to dairy products, this is, on reflection, bad news in the same way that the Mafia’s offer of a horse head or a zebra head in your bed is bed news. You won’t avoid the inconvenience that this will cause and blood of a quadruped is bound to stain the sheets. Still with me?

My iPod has turned into a sanity saver, I’m in work listening to Dirk Gentley’s Holistic Detective agency, saving me from mind numbing boredom of day to day tedium. Audiobooks beat the hell out of the radio, or colleagues talking about the previous nights football. Football is something I don’t get, it has the same appeal as a pocket full of frogspawn.

Our outdoor cat, Dinky, a thin whippet like ginger tom as battle scarred as a pensioned pirate, has decided that we’re not feeding our baby girl enough. He’s brought another mouse in. The cat is a born killer, utterly lethal to all surrounding wildlife., aside from the peacocks and horses. We tried to hobble him with a collar that has a large bell on it, all that did is hone him into a feline ninja so deadly that the merest hint of ginger strikes fear into the local creatures. This mouse didn’t manage to hide under the kitchen cupboards, instead it was carried round the house by Fingol, our largest Maine Coon, until my wife rescued it. Cats are funny creatures, sometimes they dismember creatures on a whim, and other times provide a nice, if somewhat soggy, guided tour. Go figure.

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