Bug Out

I appear to be plat du jour for the local mosquito community. Usually they eschew to chew on me and head straight for Furtle, but these past few days their tastes seem to have taken change of direction and I am now the favoured menu item.

I am sitting here in a little cloud of Tiger Balm, trying not to stain my clothes orange. I have smeared it on a bite on my left shin, on the back of my left hand and on both inside forearms. In addition to those, I am now either imagining itches elsewhere, or getting referred itches. The trouble is, Tiger Balm only soothes the actual bites, not the phantom ones.

I shall have to think about what I used to eat but no longer do. Clearly something has changed to make me more tasty to the local insect community.

I do not wish to be flavoursome.

Cattish behaviour

While I think on it, I should note that last night as we were watching telly, we were paid a visit by a certain curious young moggie from next door.

About 9.15, a curious little ginger face appeared in the door from the conservatory. It was Mr Philip Parker, who is clearly training as a housing inspector. He paused and regarded us balefully , before wandering up the stairs for a peek around up there and a peer over the edge to get a good look at the living room.

I’d say his inspection lasted about 5 minutes before he sauntered back out into the night, apparently satisfied with progress.

Previously, he has only come in to the house when he’s thought we weren’t there. If he saw us, he would pause and then retreat.

We have reached the exalted status of being ignored by the cat.