Baggy's daily state!
Depression (Black = really bad/Grey = not great/Blue = okay/Yellow = sunny day): Grey.
Anxiety (From 1 = barely any to 10 = gibbering wreck standard): 2.
Tears: No.
Overall day(s): Crazy manic.
Number one furry was so tired last night that he went to bed before Baggy did, which is pretty unheard of, apart from on a Sunday. Baggy stayed with Hinge and the pooch. As they sat on the sofa, Pepper suddenly started a frantic scratching! Then so did Baggy. Hmmmm! They settled back down. Then did a repeat performance a few minutes later. Creative Clara was on her laptop. Baggy felt a tickle on her hand. A tiny black critter was running over it. Furry Mama does not like to kill things, but decided she needed to make an exception. She squashed it with her thumb. It carried on running. She tried again. It would not squash. Therefore it could be only one thing - a baby flea. Noooooooo! Clever Bird admitted to herself that Calum was right (don't tell him though baggetts, he always thinks he's right), and wasn't imagining things crawling on him when he sat on the main sofa. The Domestic Goddess took over. Cushions off the sofas. Fruit bowl and various other things removed - including Hinge and Pepper. Flea bomb activated! They left it to it and went to bed.
Clever Bird realised that if there are eggs hatching downstairs they must be upstairs too. Especially in the spare bedroom where the cats are living most of the time. This morning The Goddess decided that drastic action was needed. Beds stripped. Soft furnishings, soft toys, soft everything else removed from both rooms for washing.
Bracket kat peeled from the cushions she was laying on, in the little annexe next to the spare bedroom by Calum; then carried, hissing and scratching, downstairs. The Goddess removed the cushions and re-enactment cloaks that she was laying on from the top of the chest of drawers, ready for washing. Only to realise that they were all wet. She moved on to all the jackets that were hanging next to the chest of drawers above the heater. Not only were they wet, but they were covered in black mould!! Once everything was removed Freda Fretter could see the extent of the damp. It's bad. Not only is there black mould, there are also crystals! Not good. No wonder Baggy has breathing problems. By the time The Goddess had piled everything up that needs washing (by throwing it down the stairs from the landing), it wasn't possible to get down the stairs, so Baggy and Pepper sat half way up them, waiting for Calum to move things. At a conservative estimate, Clever Bird thinks that The Goddess has about twenty loads of washing to do!
She then set off flea bombs in both the bedrooms. The family is therefore shut downstairs for the day. Furry Mama hasn't seen Bracket, who has hidden behind the sofa and refuses to come out. Although Clever Bird can't understand why, as she's quite happy to rub up against Pepper Pooch, when he's in the spare bedroom with her! It's too ghastly to go out. Rain, sleet and heavy snow, although it's not settling in Baggy's part of Suffolk. Well, not yet anyway. So they're watching films and staying warm. The pooch is barely scratching. Baggy hasn't scratched at all. So maybe, just maybe, the pooch doesn't have an allergy, other than to fleas! Furry Mama can but hope that a) that is the case and b) that The Goddess is successful in de-fleaing the house. Clever Bird does admit that this will be a major challenge, with the amount of stuff that Calum and Hormonal Hannah insist on hoarding, and with the cats constantly bringing live presents into the house for Furry Mama, but she'll do her very best. As for the damp, well The Goddess will just have to try to dry it out and buy yet more dehumidifiers, as there's no spare six grand to get the other half of the roof replaced! Time for another load of washing to go on..........
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