Squirrels

The squirrels are at it again. Bastards. As if it wasn't enough that I had to put up with their constant scurrying and eating cashew nuts they have now embarked on a mass leafleting campaign to advertise their embroidery club. What is perhaps most preposterous about this sorry situation is that I know for a fact that neither of them can sew and that the callouses on their little squirrel fingers are not, as they claim, from that time they had a fight with a magpie but the self inflicted scars of a lost weekend trying to sew an extra pocket onto a duffel coat. How they expect to manage to master the complications of the various forms of chain stitch required to produce say the 'written embroidery' of a Hungarian Kalotaszeg is frankly beyond me.

It was exactly the same when they started giving Pilates classes at the local sports centre. Neither of them had even a basic grounding of the exercise techniques used in the method and yet they managed to convince nearly forty people to sign up for a six month "absolute beginners fun course". Luckily the majority of these managed to avoid the casualty department but I am afraid to say that Mr Josephs may never quite regain full use of his knees. Of course the council reimbursed everyones fees but the gesture was somewhat spoilt by their letting those bloody squirrels set up again only six months later with a Alexander Method Made Easy Masterclass. Apparently the local surgery ran out of neck braces and had to start sending people out into the world protected by nothing better than half a dozen hastily taped together balaclavas.

And now it is embroidery. Bloody squirrels.