A bird in the hand is worth 27 on the toilet

We have recently bought a house in a tree-lined road, very sought-after area, the estate agents told us. And it is nice to have on-street greenery and to listen to the pre-dawn Tveetling of the birdies and the chaka-chaka-ing of the magpies and the hoo-hoo of the woodpigeons and the dipdipdip of the fledgeling blackbirds who haven't got used to the existence of cats yet and all the other avian accents you get. But all this aerial wildlife means roosting and an above-average crapita per square yard and sometimes it is difficult to drive away in the morning because of the Pollockian streaks of guano on the windscreen and the sheer weight of layered bird poo on the roof. I think, on balance, the airgun should stay in the loft but it's a close-run thing.

I have been in discussions with my handlers as to the future layout of furniture etc in my room. It's a fairly large room so plans are to have the bed and clothes cupboards etc down one end in a dedicated bedroom area, and to leave the window end completely clear for Lego-ing and toyboxes. Sounds a bit "Let's form a posse and then split up" but it's compartmentalization.

Jof has taken a cheeky day off without telling me. She could have spent the whole day at home with me cutting out sharks and feeding me chocolate. What a con. I actually espied her in the hairdressers on the way home from school with Erin.

This afternoon Bud got the large old-style cathode ray tube TV down out of the loft (inherited from previous owner) while the builders were there to help. This worked. He then carried it down the stairs whereupon it slipped from his dusty grasp and fell, breaking one original-to-the-house, can't-get-them-any-more banister spindle and bringing the builders running. It did not crack asunder. Despite this, the builders have plastered all over the place and a bout of shelves has broken out upstairs. While I was tramping with Pops, they chose Spanish hand-made tiles for the kitchen.