Way-aye, Roscoe here.

It was a busy sort of week, last week, but nothing really happened.

There was a lot of banging on Tuesday and Wednesday. On the roof above us. Mam said it was people come to mend it and there was nothing to worry about. It felt like things were falling off it as well as being banged, and machine noises, too, and Mam put us in our boxes and settled us into the summerhouse with the door closed for a while. She said it was to keep us away from the noise. We went to sleep. You know, I like being in the box with Neville. He’s lovely and warm and soft. Biggles was in his box next door. I don’t know where Mam went. Back to her computer, I think.

She’s been busy this week, working on plans for the new book. Over the weekend she made some pretty pictures on her screen, then said a lot of rude words when she came back to it next morning and it wouldn’t do what it had done last night. I don’t know what it means either, I just tell you what went on. I think she fixed it in the end.

I keep promising you a description of Mam eating something called an ice cream.

It happens at the weekend. There’s a pretty jingly noise outside, and Mam gets up or rushes through our room if she’s in the garden, and goes out of the front door. She comes back with something in her hand. It’s a ginger coloured thing she holds, and there’s some white stuff called ice cream balanced on the top. And usually it has a brown stick in it. I think it always has the stick, but sometimes Mam’s already pushed it down into the ginger bit, which must be hollow, before I see it.

Then Mam sits down, and sticks her tongue out and sort of lays the white stuff on it and twirls it so it rubs off on her tongue. She does that for ages. Taking a bit of a lick and then pausing before the next one. She makes it a very pretty shape, all smooth edges and pointed at the top. Eventually the white stuff gets down to the level of the ginger stuff, and she nibbles that down, even, all the way round, At that stage you can just about see the brown stick again, but it’s covered with ice cream. Then she bites the top of that off, and goes on down, biting across the whole thing until it’s all gone.

It takes her ages, but it’s fun to watch.

We went out in the garden at the weekend. It got quite cool so we came in again, but it was nice while it lasted. Mummy’s very happy with whatever they did to the roof. I’m glad they’ve gone away though.

Oh, I went to see Dr Mark on Wedenesday. Mam told him I sometimes look a bit under the weather, and then she gives me metacam to help me get through the day. She’d checked my teeth and everything, and just wanted to make sure she hadn’t missed anything. And I agreed with her and told him there was nothing wrong that a bit of age-reversal wouldn’t sort out, but he just told her she could keep giving me the metacam when I needed it, and otherwise I was in great shape. And she asked him to check Neville’s heart and he said it was fine.

So it’s official. We’re fine. And Biggles is normal for Biggles.

See you next week. I wish this lady would come round so we could fill this cage up. Maybe those summer gifts Mam bought for all of us will turn into Christmas presents?

love

Roscoe xxx