It is very cold. Just the persistent, low, grey kind that sits on the house and doesn't move. The bird bath has been frozen since Wednesday. I have stopped checking. I have been watching the pigeon. I am not going to say anything further about it.

It's proper freezing here and that white stuff you had has now come here. We dare not go out, only for essentials. Think we may have to just sleep on top of one another all day.

George says write something so here I am. Cold tonight. Proper cold. There was something white on the garden this morning. George looked at it for a long time and then announced it was temporary. He is treating this as a position rather than a forecast.

She is painting everything. Not one room - everything. I followed her up the ladder in a supervisory capacity and she said several things I am choosing not to repeat and then closed the door. She is in better spirits than November, which matters more than the paint smell.

It's just dull, dull, dull here. Mack has a record sleeping competition going on and I think the puffy one is winning. He told me he's researching a book. Yeah right. She's still painting everywhere upstairs which is scary as our tails are dangerous up there.

I'd been asleep all day and night and could hear the frying pan on - she was cooking a bolognaise. I couldn't resist the smell so jumped up on the counter in a semi dream. The blackbird was left just outside the back door earlier… or was it?

I want to note that I am not concerned. I am observing. There is a difference. We sat near her. Not with her, obviously. Near. The mouse was fine. She was not fine. Different things.

Not much to report here. George left a tiny mouse under the kitchen table today and she went mental, but it was that small we didn't know what all the fuss was about.

Only thing that's cheered us up today - it's so cold and boring we haven't moved, apart from feeding time, which we gave an average score. Anyway, roll on summer.

December 2025 Week 52 New Year's Eve After midnight Still up. Not sure why. She's watching something on the television with a lot of shouting and counting. George is asleep on the chair, which means I'll have the No.1 bed again which is the only genuinely good thing about tonight. There were apparently fireworks somewhere outside at midnight, but George slept through them. I've decided not to mention it. No point. New Year. Right. Everyone very exercised about it. Same house.

The days since have been a specific kind of quiet I find either deeply restorative or mildly concerning depending on the hour. Mack has barely moved in three days. He is either hibernating or conducting research. He says he is conducting research.

A quiet one here. Peaceful, in the way that London occasionally manages when everyone has somewhere else to be. He has done something with the chair. I have assessed it. I have committed. I am not going to make a thing of it.

I want to begin by saying that Christmas morning was, overall, a success. The chicken was a proper one. The allocation, when it came, was adequate. It was technically adequate. Mack has declined to comment on his portion.

The Shed Protest: Duration Is Not the Point. The Point Is That We Went. Mack says we lasted twelve minutes. It was considerably longer than that and also the duration is not the point, the point is that we went. Principles were upheld.

She came back with more dog presents than cat presents. We've demanded our money back but she's having none of it. We're sleeping in the shed tonight as a protest.

Mum came back from another date earlier and threw a chicken in a bag in the oven. We said yes but no. Then it was cooked and she just gave us a wing. We think she loves us again. Bit extremely disappointed with the bagged chicken.

She started taking all the curtains down. The mouse had recovered some. George decided to take it in to calm her nerves whilst she was up the ladder. She bellowed so loud we both, and the mouse, tried to get out of the cat flap at the same time.

Five very big men came and built what I can only describe as a cage around the house. It was like a million times worse than the window cleaner. The usual wardrobe safety was out. We disappeared up to the garden at number 29 and mainly watched Mimi parading in her window for a bit.

She seemed almost excited or motivated again tonight. We've finished the bowl of Go Cat and some remains of the Aldi Fish from this morn. It wasn't nice, but these are hard times. But us cousins will be reet.

We purposely both left half empty dishes this morning. She has that square thing in her thumbs most of the evening and her head in the clouds. Vitacat Fish selection is no match and she knows it.