Puflet's views on Antisocial Neighbours

Well, the Government is pretending to have some initiative again.

My next door neighbour allows GROUND ELDER to flower, set seed and take over the Universe. Now that's what I call anti-social behaviour. Sometimes I sneak out on moonlit summer nights and remove the flowers before they become minor triffids. It doesn't affect him cos for he spends much of his time on Planet Zog.

These neighbours that Tony Blair is concerned about, though, saying that they should be banned from their own homes... maybe Gordon Brown's upset him (possibly by planting bindweed in his herbaceous border). Other people's neighbours, at least disruptive ones, are to be banned from their own homes. This doesn't seem to me to be a very good idea, because then they'll have to move into their neighbours' houses, which would be even more disruptive than just having them playing loud music and banging dustbin lids outside.

Anyway, I thought you might like to see some of the neighbours in Cloud Cuckoo Land. Would you believe they built the place themselves?



That's all for now ...

Love P xxx

Arguments at the Palace - more politics!

Puflet can't understand the media and parliamentary persecution of Charles Kennedy: 'You only have to listen to Today in Parliament to realise that they're all completely s***faced! All of them! And as for journalists ... well ... talk about world view influenced by the bottom of a whisky bottle, never mind rosy tinted spectacles. Let he who is without sin an' all that ...'

Mervyn disagrees. 'They're all perfectly shober', he insists. 'Sherfectly, sherfectly pober. An' did I remember to tell you? They're all my besht matesh. Hic!'

The discussion ended here when Mervyn collapsed into one of his characteristic drunken heaps.

Musings from Puflet Palace

Harumph! Off to write reports ...

Unfortunately you have to be polite and diplomatic. None of the 'Gertrude applies herself enthusiastically to her painting - and she ought to stick there' or 'Any coincidence between Fanny's productions and what is commonly described as 'art' is purely fortuitous' or 'When marking Nora's turds we noticed that ...'

And you, as report writer, are requested to give advice. You are supposed to be polite there, too.

Right, 'nuff said.

CAS

This is Filkins. He is a Russian hamster - a winter white, to be precise, though the fact that he isn't living in Siberia means that he does not need to go white in winter. This is because there is a general lack of snow in his cage.

He is about 3" long from nose to (very short) tail. But his toenails need cutting - AND HE DOESN'T LIKE HAVING THEM CUT!!! You'd be impressed at the range of swear words he knows, how sharp his teeth are and how much he can WRIGGLE for such a rotund creature. Oh, and he can pull really manic faces. In the end I made a little harness for him. He bit into it savagely, but I managed to cut some of the offending talons, but not the really long ones which are preventing him from walking properly. You're trying to strike a balance between removing the excess nail growth, and removing one of his limbs. He doesn't seem to realise what a delicate operation this is ...

I'm going to leave it for a few days, and hope he forgets today's experience.

CAS

More Puflet Politics

I know I'm only a small water bird, and although I have an intimate knowledge of the biology of sand eels I can't pretend to understand much else.

However, I was listening to Radio 4 recently, and they said that the Government are concerned about the Child Support Agency. I always knew that eggs were a better bet ... but to get to the point ... they were talking about tagging parents who don't pay for their children. The Child Support Agency, that is, not Radio 4, who are much too busy.

This seems to me to be a really good idea. They could get a satellite navigation system to view them all, which would be very entertaining for the staff at the CSA. And they could track these wily, mendacious, abdicating parents as they spend everything on drink and drugs (not one penny of their ill-gotten gains went to their starving families. The swine.) And then, by observing the habitual haunts of these characters, they could work out where to buy the best skunk etc (strong cannabis, that is, not the black and white smelly mammal). Which would be a really useful thing to do!

What I don't understand, though, is how anybody thinks that this will make these people give any more money to the people they're supposed to be giving money to. Can someone explain?

Love P xxx

Here are some of the dogs who came to Christmas dinner. If you look carefully, you might be able to spot the single solitary poodle.

P xxx

Musings from Puflet Palace

Musings from Puflet Palace

Well, the dogs that Mervyn mentioned will be arriving soon. There were actually only four of them, but in a confined space this always seems a lot more. You know the kind of thing ... 'Mummy, is five a lot?' 'Well it is if you're talking about elephants in your living room'...
The space was even more confined because there were so many people for Christmas dinner - 19 in all - including most of the immediate family plus spouses and offspring. Though any mealtime when we were all living at home seemed like the feeding of the 5,000. Maybe that's why we had sardines on toast so often.

And then, a couple of days ago, we went to see 'The Producers'. Now, I haven't seen the original version of this masterpiece, but the central premise, that a couple of producers make a movie that is an intentional flop in order to pocket the sponsorship money, seemed to be mirrored in some respects by the movie itself. And I don't mean their wonderful 'Springtime for Hitler'! It was Mel Brooks' first film (apparently it was due to Peter Sellers, who loved it, that critics took a serious look at it). One of the producers starts off as an accountant, and a choreographed scene in which the accounting machines are a crucial part of the rhythm section features in the early part of the film. Later, the little old ladies (of whom there were hundreds) with their zimmer frames provide a charming routine. The pigeons in their loft make their contribution, too. All of which seems to me to be just as unlikely material for a Broadway Hit as the goose-stepping dancing Hitlers.

And after all, it was a Broadway Hit about an ostensible Broadway Flop - and sends up showbiz as much as it sends up the Third Reich!

CAS