Ratstock? Mousenbury? Yesterday I went down to our cellar to put some things away and to my horror discovered that it looked like Roskilde on the Monday morning after the festival.
The local vermin had been having the party to end all parties and our precious belongings were deep in ratshit. So I had a really pleasant afternoon emptying out everything and shovelling up vermin droppings. They'd been nibbling at volumes of Shakespeare, munching away at family photos. I will never be able to watch Flushed Away again: this time it's personal!
Roddy Rat and his wife Vermintrude will not be geting a Xmas card from me next year!
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