A quiet day today, my only excitement was a lively debate with Sir Scutterscarry, a mouse with delusions of chivalry who lives in the potting shed. He is something of a cheesie, which is a foodie, but – well – you can guess which particular type of food he focuses on.
It seems this week’s cheese platter selection from my grocery delivery service simply wasn’t up to par. He even wrote a complaint letter (I needed a magnifying glass to read it) and got terribly upset when I suggested a low star rating on the website might be more effective.
His attempt to challenge me to a duel may have carried more weight if it hadn’t been me who made him his sword – out of a tapestry needle. Yes, I did sharpen it for him but even if it was one of those legendary blades that could cut paper that fell on it, at that size, a paper cut is a fair equivalent.
In the end, I made a little detour in my afternoon delivery route and picked up some brie, a nice gouda and an outstandingly stinky stilton from the farm shop on the other side of Wiggleswick. It’s a small price to pay for pest-free seedlings.
The DNA of Stories 