Christmas Eve, and I am shouting at the ceiling. Literally.
Here I am, in my study, desperately trying to finish a project paper on avitourism potential in Malaysia so that I can return to my final(?) rewrite of The Song of the Shiver Barrens, and there's this darn scamper, scamper, scamper, squeak, squeak, squeak all the time over my head. The civets are having a ball. The female has another litter by the sound of it, but how can I work with that racket going on? I finally decide to drown them out with a spot of Bruckner, played very loudly...
BTW, there's an interesting discussion developing on yesterday's entry.
Merry Christmas everyone*
*change as appropriate to suit your religious beliefs/non-beliefs!