On Saturday I am going to become a woman.

Yes, that's right Saturday is the day where I become a woman. For on Saturday, finally, at the age of 32 years (and six months), I am going to buy a drill. My drilling virginity shall be lost the day after, with the construction of my shed, followed by a test run of the barbecue. Barbecue is awesome. It's got two layers and you can use it as a smoker or a steamer as well as a barbecue. Okay, so the garden is still a bit of a heap, but I'm working on that. Yes, definitely, slowly, turning into a growed up human bean.

It's been a bit of a week. As already established in previous postings, Cattenberg's new lodgings were supposed to be ready last week. And as has also already been established, they weren't. There has been some escalation surrounding this throughout the week, although initially this consisted of largely impotent emails sent, and sent, and sent. The landlord was entirely unavailable for contact both from the agency and from Cattenberg, and after lots of frustrated emails between Cattenberg and the agency, and advice garnered from all corners (friends, family, Shelter, CAB, intertubes, cups on strings, messages in bottles, lovely articles about contract law) boiling point was reached on Wednesday. Cattenberg and I decided that the best course of action would be to remove any boxes already taken to the flat, then go to the agency in person and erm, set me on them. Thankfully in this instance Cattenberg's faith in me was not misplaced, and shortly after the beginning of the meeting, with me being helpful and friendly as pie, the agency were offering to cancel the tenancy agreement, obviously realising that the property and landlord would cause them problems well into the foreseeable. It is really was a beautiful thing. The agency started to propose that in view of absent landlord that they would finish at least the minimum works. I started listing minimum works, as well as significant structural issues, lack of external rain water drainage, existing issues around damp and roof leaks, and areas where poor planning (e.g. wet room in attic on wooden floors without angled drainage) will result in rapid and significant deterioration of condition of property. Suddenly the agents happily cancelled the let. Obviously eggs can't be counted until the money is refunded to Cattenberg. But yeah, result!

Anyway, all of this means that Cattenberg is, alas, back to square one with the flat hunting. But at least a lucky escape has been had. It also means that until Cattenberg has a permanent new address, his stuff is largely piled in my spare room, meaning I can't quite finish transforming Cat Lady Towers into girl house. But soon. Soon is soon enough.

Life has been cracking on a pace for the Catladies of Cat Lady Towers. Woodcat, the elder, has largely got the house sorted (spare room aside), while Kittencat, the younger, constantly tries to undo the Woodcat's efforts. Kittencat is enamoured with spending all available time in the garden/wilderness. The Woodcat would like to do this to, though the pollen count this year is creating havoc with my asthma. So we have been dividing our time between the house and the garden. We were going to go out today, but the unmoving and extricating of Cattenberg from the flat means we're a little behind in what we need to do. That said, we did have a marvellous afternoon in Woodcat's mummy's garden yesterday, playing with KC's cousins and racing around with water pistols and footballs, and KC diligently and carefully pouring water on the step in my mum's garden, explaining as she did so that she was "making a cat wee". My child's brain is a curious place.