Rain, rain, rain and floods.

Rainy June.

This country is weird. Half the place is under a hosepipe ban whilst the other half is busily preparing arks – or should be if they know what’s good for them.

Meanwhile we have a seagull (called Napoleon), who has taken to wandering in through the back door. He’s been in the kitchen twice, and on Sunday¬† B was busy getting him out of the front room, when some woman stopped outside.

“Why’s there a seagull in your living room?” she asked, blue rinse quivering.

“Sunday Roast,” B replied, and then had to tell the woman it was a joke before she called the RSPB.

The cats don’t seem to care, either. Mind you, Napoleon is as big as they are, and his beak has to be shaper than their claws. Hopefully, one day soon, I’ll catch him on camera.

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