Daniel in the lion's den

A year ago today I took possession of the keys to my Chatham flat.

Today I went hoofing off into That London for the annual get-together for people affected by Cervical Cancer, organised by the completely wonderful Jo's Cervical Cancer Trust where I was treated to, amongst other things, a restorative Gong bath. Last year's event revealed to me the issues I hadn't fully processed. This year's event revealed just how far I have come since then. I left with a skip in my step and not tissues in my pocket. I was offering hugs, not requiring them. Hurrah!

While I was off enjoying myself with other women whose lives have been turned upside-down by the trauma of losing their reproductive capabilities and/or their total loss of sexuality of any kind, my flat was being attended to by King Goblin.

I chose that name for him before I had met him. I had had serious doubts about him and his crew because they had been recruited by evil Darth, but as soon as I met him face to face all my defensiveness dissolved. His name is Daniel. As a pest-controller, his company specialises in bird vermin. They have over 30 years experience in that field. I don't imagine that Daniel has been doing this job for 30 years himself, he's too young for that, but he has my complete trust and faith.

On my journey home from my sisterhood reunion I received a call from Daniel. His team had not been able to complete the task in a single day and would it be OK with me if they were to return on Sunday. Of course! I had never imagined the task could possibly have been completed in a single day. Daniel elaborated; whilst his company specialises in bird vermin, and despite 30 years experience in that field, they have never experienced a loft as nasty as mine. He had arrived with a “lad” but the lad had found the loft too awful to work in. I sympathised. Yes indeed it is. The lad was exchanged for a more experienced operator which resulted in some hours lost. I have no issue with that at all. Thoroughly professional.

Meanwhile, here are some extras I had time to take between leaving the flat this morning and catching my train into That London. In all my blipyears I have never exceeded my extras allowance and so this year I'm throwing caution to the wind. Should I find I need more then I will back-track and remove the least relevant.

Just as last month, a huge flock of homeless birds is congregating on the roof across the street and I can hear a little bit of scrabbling from one or two left inside. This is not negligence, this is simply because small frightened birds can access narrow corners that large primates cannot. It will be all resolved humanely tomorrow.