On Saturday afternoon I remarked to Mr WithaY that the rat problem seemed to have vanished, as we hadn't seen any of the hairy bastards for ages. We agreed that the rat poison in the special "Doesn't Kill Birds Or Mice" tube was most effective.
Mmm-mmmm. No more rats.
Until approximately eight minutes later when he announced that a HUGE rat had scuttled out from under the shed, and was scarfing down dropped birdseed like it was going out of fashion.
It was dealt with. Then the next day a second, smaller rat made an appearance. It too was dealt with. And not in a "stiff talking-to" kind of way.
And hey, guess what? All the poison had been eaten, so the buggers were devouring the birdseed again. That situation has since been recitifed.
Other news: I've been in London today. I had a meeting in the morning at the office, and when that finished I had to leg it down Whitehall to another office for a second, longer meeting. It was a glorous sunny day and the walk was lovely.
As I got to the building where my meeting was being held, a chap was being filmed by a film crew on the pavement across the road. I gawped a bit, being a potato-headed yokel, and then went inside.
On the huge TV screen in reception was the same bloke "live from Whitehall". I had to stop myself going "Hey! I just saw him outside!" in an overexcited way. It was bizarre though, seeing him on TV and out the window at the same time.
In the meeting, which was up in a turret accessed by a teeny spiral staircase, we sat with all the windows open, Big Ben bonging away loudly. I got distracted (like I do) by one of the many military bands marching through the park below us.
It was like being in a film set in swinging London. I half expected to see a Union Jack Jag come screeching round the corner.