27/9/25

The Mistress announces that another month has passed, and it's almost October; the Christmas countdown is also not far away. We have lived this caravan life for a year now, and hopefully, it will soon be a thing of the past. This legal battle has been ongoing for the entire year. I wonder if this will get settled by this Christmas, and then we can move on to the next chapter.

It is a big day for His Lordship on the golf course today. The championships are underway, and he has learned some new moves with the ball and stick. Yesterday, he went off to practice his best shots, while his darling did her volunteering. 

They sat here yesterday afternoon doing this mushy stuff again. Oh, I had to turn and look out the window. It was much more interesting to see what everyone else was doing, and certainly not that kind of thing. They often carry on like this, and the novelty hasn't worn off by now, as it is nearly their first anniversary. As long as they are happy, I'm glad too. 

It is croquet day for the Mistress today, but she forgot. It appears that if it's not in her diary, she fails to remember. The joys of growing old, she reckons. 

29/9/25

The golf didn't go well, and he was home early. He was crabby with himself, but a bubbly or two helped this grieving process. Winning another meat raffle was a surprise for the Mistress.

He has been emptying the tanks today, a smelly process, as the wind was blowing in this direction. He has a piping system of Kiwi ingenuity that makes life a little easier for him. He's getting old, you know!

The humans had a hot night last night. The covers were off the vent, open, and eventually went to sleep, while I jumped down and took a look outside. 

I came across a cat strolling along, minding its own business, when I made it my business to try to connect with it. He took one look at me and took off. Huh, I felt rejected, and he had no manners, as these are things of the past in this world today. I was trying to be neighborly. Did he think I was a ghost, I wonder!

I reckon the Mistress sees ghosts. She often tells her darling that somebody is here, and when I look, there is nothing to see. How can this be, I wonder. She is the spooky one. I heard her say that his daughter is here several times, over the past couple of years, since she passed over. He always seems impressed to listen to this, but he's a man with few words; the less the better. 



 









 

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