The sun shone for twenty minutes today! Much excitement. Dear Mama caught sight of her reflection in the window, sprung from her trampoline, immediately ran to the bathroom and scrabbled around in her enormous make up bag for a pair of tweezers. She then ran to the mirror at the window in her dressing chamber and began frantically plucking. Eyebrows, chin and finally her moustache were all tweezed to perfection. She never squealed not even once, Just muttered something under her breath about turning into Frida Khalo (?) and how unforgiving bright sunlight can be. It was almost spooky to watch. Such unbridled focus, such dogged determination.

What a shame she couldn't apply that level of commitment to other things. Like her work for example.

She's also taken to wearing hiking boots in the house (well she should get some wear out of them) Now whenever I release one of my bark attacks or my special songs as I like to think of them (eg. as the postman lightly drops a letter, as a cat takes a stroll through the garden, as a fly takes flight, as a person sighs five streets away) she strides towards me in what she deems to be a threatening manner with some sort of spray bottle in her hand. I've not yet experienced the spray. The sound of the boots and the swearing that usually goes with it is generally enough to dampen my fervour.

I wonder what baw bag means.........