I knew it was a mistake to tempt fate at the end of yesterday's blog post. Barely twenty minutes after posting it, I received a phone call from the lovely Lorraine. She has the timing of a Hollywood villain. But fortunately she hadn't read my blog, so she was quite friendly.
Anyhoo, the good news is that Timmy has started eating books. The official advice is "Don't leave any important papers lying around", as he's developed a taste for literature, and will devour as much of the written word as he can get his paws on. Frankly he's a bigger reader than I am. Although Lorraine also claims he's become a fussy eater in recent months (yeah, me too), which frankly I'll believe when I see it.
But anyway, on top of my TV guide being at constant risk of Timmy-attack, it turns out that I'll be feeding three cats this time around. Oh yes indeed. In October last year it was just Oscar; in May it was Oscar and Timmy; now it's Oscar, Timmy & Charlie. It's like a hideous plague. Fortunately though Charlie's a stray, and doesn't actually come into the house. Apart from the time he got trapped in the conservatory and did an impression of a motorcyclist on the wall of death. Needless to say I'll be keeping the conservatory door closed at all times.
So I'll be making daily trips to the bottom of the garden, and hoping I'm feeding the right cat. I've no idea what he looks like, so it's a bit of a lottery.
In addition I've arrived in Brighton to find that the local authorities have prepared for my arrival by sending squads of armed police onto the city streets. Although it could also be something to do with the fact that Tony Blair's coming for the week. Yes, of all the times when I could be staying in Portslade and driving Lisa to and from Brighton on a daily basis, we choose the one week when the sea front is closed off and police are carrying out random car searches. Although on the bright side, it means another chance to get on TV. I've learnt from last year's attempt, so I'm off to write a song about Gordon Brown.