Basically because I am a sticky beak and am intrigued by the goings on at Vera's house, I have been walking Seb past the house every couple of hours or so every day this weekend. How someone managed to bag and stack 20 bags of rubbish therefore has me baffled. But clearly someone is hard at work clearing the place out.

My reasons for interest are twofold. Partly because I am dying to see what it is like inside, and secondly because she is rumoured to have the place stacked to the gunwhales with items of interest to the local historical society - diaries, newspapers, letters etc. I would hate to think of some of the people I know that might be doing the work for her being responsible for choosing what to keep as I have no doubt things would be discarded, irrespective of importance, if they had a bit of cat poo stuck to them or any of the other potential mishaps that are associated with being stored in the home of the local crazy cat lady.

I begin to think I should stick a note to the back door asking them to give me a call next time they are there, but how to frame it to avoid sounding a) nosy and b) haughty has me baffled.

Seb seems to be getting the hang of sitting before crossing the road, albeit with reminders, but a pocket full of treats seems to be having the desired effect.

A trip to the Mens Shed to collect my door (they were shut on the occasions I called last week) resulted in being seconded to haul nails out of a stack of timber that had been delivered to their door. All nails now out and accounted for, though one snapped off level with the timber and required surgery to get it out.

Off to clean the bank soon, and hoping that the soup I have in the slow-cooker will remain in the cooker (it is rather full) while I am gone.

Washing done and stacked away - too organised!