Somehow, our finances have got away from us in the last couple of months. And I don't mean a little, I mean they've fucking sprinted into the distance. Most of it is my fault -- I misread a statement and thought we had more in the bank than we had -- so I have to not complain and just do something about it. All the business travel I'm doing recently (lovely excursions to grubby little industrial estates near Heathrow) isn't helping. Sure the money will be reimbursed, but it all effects the cash-flow, doncha know.

It occurs to me that there is stuff I have forgotten to set down here. Before christmas, we had a plumbing incident where I noticed that the water pressure was low in our central heating system. The boiler had turned off as a result and the house was freezing. So I opened the intake valve and got the pressure back up and turned the heating on again. All hunky dory. Of course I had failed to ask myself why the pressure had dropped and the obvious answer -- there's a leak! -- didn't cross my mind. So, as I wandered downstairs and wondered what that clicking noise was. It turned out to be water dripping from the ceiling of our sitting room. There was general panic then (we are paranoid about flooding. Brand new hardwood floors will do that to a person) and lots of shouting and waving of arms. To no avail of course, but it's kinda cathartic, I guess.

After pulling back the carpet upstairs and removing some of the floorboards, the local plumber came (bless him) and turned off the intake into the system and said he'd return to fix the leak in the morning. He did so and found that the pipes feeding the radiator in the very room I'm sitting in had been gnawed. Gnawed! By rodents. No-one dared use the R word (not rodents, the other one), but we were all thinking it. The plumber had never, in fifteen years, seen this happen. Gulp. Super rodents! So we set a rat trap and awaited results.

The next day brought a repeat performance. The pipe was chewed, the plumber called and we learned from our mistakes and set mouse traps too. We caught three (or was it four) little fellas and Sally's naturalist uncle said that they were wood mice and likely to be able to chew through the plastic pipe, so -- no rat. Thank goodness.

So we left things in a heap to allow stuff to dry out and stop smelling damp and fetid and when we eventually put everything back it was as if nothing had happened. Except for the stains on the ceiling below and the cheque that went to the plumber.

I've just got back from my first swimming lesson. I smell of chlorine and am a little warm. Also oddly dehydrated. I have to pack for another trip to grim England (I accept that not all of England is grim, but when I think of England, I think of the grim bits). I will be working on St. Patrick's Day. But I can take Friday off instead (and will), and it will be Roisin's first birthday so we will have cake and presents.

And anything else she wants.