And not without justification. You’ve shared my space, taken my warmth and eaten my food. Now it’s over. Though I admire your determination, scrambling under the propagator lid and gnawing through the net curtain to savage my baby sweet peas. So I’ve left you a parting gift – look to the right as you head for dinner but go straight to pudding … the Mars Bar on the little prong is just for you. As a good friend once said to me – when it’s your time, it’s your time.
Yours reluctantly and with apologies to Rabbie Burns who was distraught upon disturbing a mouse’s-house. Bet he never tried to grow sweetpeas.