I hear you knocking …

What is the name for poltergeists that make noises but don’t throw things? Because I think we’ve got one. I’m not talking about the woodpigeons who have decided that clog-dancing on the flat roof of our extension is the perfect courting ritual. They at least stop when it gets dark. I’m referring to the something that bangs things in empty rooms. The something that thumps from inside our wardrobe. Perhaps we’re going to be invaded by Narnians – I shall have to examine the back of the cupboard for signs of faun droppings. And snow.

On a brighter note the ‘project’ is coming along surprisingly well. Ned and Boy had a hysterical moment trying to fill a cardboard cylinder with the sort of expanding-and-setting foam that builders use to fill the gaps created when they realise they haven’t measured properly. It filled. It expanded. And kept on expanding. By the time we checked it this morning (incidentally I’m very glad they agreed with my suggestion that moving it into the garage overnight would be a good idea, because it poured with rain during the night and we’d have been even further behind) it appeared that the workbench was going to have to be incorporated into the design as well. And today we managed to find a supplier of largish polystyrene, otherwise doing the same thing with the bottom half of this creation would mean the entire garage (and all its contents – everything imaginable except a car) would be integrated.

Donkey-wise, having had a horrible evening (and night – the Thumper stopped me sleeping, which kept my mind churning) due to two fundamental flaws (OED, Chambers and Collins dictionaries all confirm my belief) in a particular puzzle, we have finally got past that hurdle, and the next one, which kept Mort (clever beyond her years) stumped for almost a day, was solved within 10 minutes. As she had been so helpful and supportive during our crisis, I was thrilled to be able to return the favour. It’s not often we’re able to – she’s usually streets ahead of us!