23/6/24

The Mistress left the house this morning after leaving it ready for the agent. She had been gone several hours, and there was no indication as to when she would be back. I say what a day to go out, as it has hardly stopped raining all day. My mates outside will get their annual clean, as they cannot duck for cover like me. I run away as soon as the Mistress takes me to the bathroom. I have a dislike for water; in fact, I am allergic to it! That is my story, anyway!

My mind was elsewhere when that agent turned the key in the door. He startled me as time had slipped away. We had a brief conversation before potential buyers arrived. One of them comments, oh, it's too small. Now, what on earth do they expect? Downsizing means just that. The other seems intrigued but needs time to ponder. No time for pondering; we need to hit the road. I am weary of waiting, and humans these days take an eternity to decide. Perhaps it's a generational thing! 
One thing that's become clear to me is the mistress's decisive nature. She doesn't waste time on indecision. Once she's made up her mind, that's it; she's off and running. It's the other humans who complicate matters, procrastinating and driving the Mistress to the brink of insanity. The signs are all there, but these people seem blind to the obvious, unable to see the forest for the trees. 

Gnomes make instant decisions. Whatever the issue, it is straight before us; we just get on with it. This is why The Mistress just clicks with Gnomes. No beating around the bush. I am still determining about His Lordship. He doesn't count his chickens before they are hatched. He has to steady his darling sometimes. He is a very patient and has taught his darling to slow down and stop jumping ahead. At least she gets the job done! I could get into trouble here, but thank goodness he isn't here to see or hear.

The Mistress made a dreadful noise, getting out this strange thing that I do not see much of. She had to explain that it was an ironing board. I haven't seen this thing for years. She plugged in this strange-looking thing that she pushed over a denim jacket. She reckons it irons out the creases. I have to believe her; this is something else I have learned today. She reminded me that when she worked, the ironing board was out often. So why does she not need to use the iron in retirement? No uniform, she says. 

Does she think that this vast ironing board is going in the caravan? I thought we were not taking so much stuff in the caravan because there was no room, and His Lordship was worried about the weight. I bet he blows a gasket when he realizes how much she has packed. The Mistress announces that, no it's not coming with us. Phew, thank goodness for that.