I am hung-over, slouched at my desk wearing a cummerbund & ever so slightly smelly.

The House of Rats has flooded due to the torrential rains, water has risen from underneath the house and claimed the snug for its cold and dank self.

The boiler has broken too, so once again the rats must endure cold drenchings in the morning or perhaps none at all. Why bother, frankly....

Cold water, it would seem, is one of the themes of this week.

It doesn’t matter though, because Turtle is by my side.

The other theme of this week is AWOL rats.

Helen has been called up to Yorkshire last minute.

Carla Parr finally came home last night, feathercut in tow and eyes a glow.

They have been on a most wonderful adventure which has involved island exploration, catamarans, WW 2 re-enactment, dancing to 60s music with wild abandon and “the Man Who Talks to the Animals”.

Add this to tales of Helsy and Lorna prancing on cherrypickers & trapezes and there is only one sensible conclusion.

The Isle of Wight is officially the most random festival of 2006. (So far)