La dolce vita

I could get used to this.

It's been a fine weekend, in just about every way. The dog walked in a wood carpeted with bluebells, chores completed and the washing hanging on the line, then fling the patio doors open and sit outside in the sunshine with a glass of chilled water and a good book.

Jan's friend from college arrived on Saturday afternoon, so after the dog's statutory second stroll we settled down for cocktails and chilli by the chiminea as the dusk deepened. A purple lady to start with (2 parts gin, one part lemon juice, one part blue curaco, one dash of grenadine, shake with ice) followed by a jug of rather potent frozen strawberry margaritas (now officially good for you - FACT!).

Inside at around ten for a glass of beer and an excellent episode of Doctor Who with the Daleks being complete and utter bastards as usual. I reckon that there must have been a death toll in the thousands, what with all the corpsicles being defrosted by Dalek Caan at the end. Lovely. Next week looks good too.

Frank was still limping this morning, and he hasn't been earning his keep. I opened the cupboard under the sink in the scullery and was rather surprised to see a little field mouse scuttling around. I cleaned things out but he managed to escape behind the washing machine. I think that he'd been in there for a while judging by the collection of mouse droppings and half nibbled dog treats that he must have been subsisting on. I put some sealant around the gap between the wall and the washing machine outflow pipe, so that should stymie his best laid plans.