We came home from really quite a LONG day at work to find a perfect Niagara pouring through the dining room ceiling: ‘and the ceiling might come down’, not merely the odd drip. A member of the family of plumbers with whom we are now dealing turned up within twenty minutes. The problem seems to locate under the bath in the guest bathroom. It seems more than likely that it is, once again, a case of gnawed plastic pipe. This probably means that the guest bathroom will have to be pretty much taken to bits. Meanwhile, we’ve had to turn the water off; no baths, I’ve washed my hair in a basin. The young plumber, besides being pleasant, is something of a card. While he and the Professor were in debate about where pipes went and all that stuff, Miss Kit brought in not one but two voles (anxious, I think, having been left all day though she did have the company of Honey the Hamster Loving Hippie). The Prof. at one point said, ‘what do you think we should do?’ at which the plumber raised his eyebrows and said, ‘I’d have a word with that cat of yours’. Unfortunately, mice beneath the floorboards are beyond her.