One misty moisty morning.

Early morning scritch scratch sneezes at the bedroom door as we claw Her out of the bedroom. We are hungry. The day is moist. A gentle breeze strokes the autumn garden. Honeysuckle in full flower tumbles from the bones of an old pear tree. A rose, freshly pruned, holds a few tight buds of late flowers. If they blossom they will be sunburst of gold with the richest scent, but winter's hand may take them first.
Max sits outside in the dawn light with fine beads of damp dew blanketing his fur and She is cross with him until She realises he is better. He looks up and smiles, enigmatic as only a cat can be.
Maurice still sneezing and now Pixie adds her small sneeze to the chorus. She seems ok, but time will tell.
The house is upside down as Hannah is going to Spain on a school trip and Rosie is helping with the packing. Oh dear.