Whilst Granddad Mort is having a much-needed rest, Georgie the Psychotic Parrot has come to live at Castle Mort for the interim.

My favourite game at the moment is ‘what shall we try and teach him to say?’ At the moment we’re working on ‘don’t blink’, but let’s see what the internet can come up with – something more original than ‘pieces of eight’ please.

At the moment he can ask for a cup of tea, says goodbye and tells you to shut up, as well as doing some wonderful impressions of squeaking doors and dripping taps. He also does a wonderful ‘ooh-err’ which makes me laugh every time.

So suggest away!

Don’t worry, I’m not dead.

I am busier than I think I have ever been in my entire life. I work at two NT properties, and am acting manager of one of them for most weekends. This weekend we have a big event, which I’ve had to organise pretty much on my own – thankfully I’ve called in enough favours and guilt-tripped enough managers to make it work, but sheesh. Talk about stress.

I’m also trying to get my dissertation complete. Charles Dickens and his holier-than-thou morality is enough to make a pig sick.

I don’t have time to sew or crochet. My garden needs sorting out, but that’s been put on the back-burner too.

Despite all of this, I don’t think that I would change things. Of course, all of this might change by the weekend, if I can’t quite pull off this event. I am, as Hawkeye would say, emotionally exhausted and morally bankrupt, but things will turn out alright. That’s what I keep telling myself anyway.

Plus I still have Ferris.

Nobody’s perfect.

When I’m at work, I phone my mother a lot. I mean a lot. Bordering on harassment.

Now that I’m in charge of the inventory project at work, I find myself with lists of items, searching for their real-life counterparts in various rooms. I’m currently in the dank dark depths of the uncatalogued store-room, and so encounter many items whose purpose eludes me. Also I’ve been kind of stressed, and physically exhausted. It’s gotten to the point where my brain has stopped working altogether, and I can no longer remember most of the words I once knew. This combination of ignorance and forgetfulness means that I often phone my mother to ask her what on earth it is that I have uncovered, or what it is I’m supposed to be looking for.

The problem is that I’m so utterly useless that the questions themselves are stupidly vague and often inaccurate. So it’s time for a quiz! Can you cope with randomness of my questioning? Here’s a few examples from this week.

(Answers may not be factually correct)

1. What’s the name of the metal bit that goes around a fireplace? Not the mantelpiece, but the bit around the bottom that isn’t the grate? I’ve found two and they’re really heavy!

2. What’s the proper name for a hod-d-d-d?

3. What’s an elbow chair when it’s at home?

4. What’s the name of that man who was like an inventor or something and his first name was like an adjective?

5. What’s the proper name for like a manual screwdriver where you turn a handle to make it go?

6. What’s a vinaigrette?

7. Why would you need a skirt-lifter on a chatelaine?

8. What’s a plumb bob for? Fishing?

9. What’s this?

10. What’s a custard glass?

11. What’s a fish kettle look like? Cause I’ve heard the phrase ‘a kettle of fish’.

12. Is a teapoy like a teapot but spelt wrong?

13. What’s that thing like a canoe but round and they make them in Ironbridge?

Any answers? All will be revealed soon!