Report No. 037

Three days ago there was a whole horde of lovely french guys in this garden. They laughed at the hoovers standing around between the dandelions, while drinking tea and coffee. The living room is still exactly as it was when they were all having breakfast in there... the little bits of potato from the 'spud-gun' are still lying around on the beige carpet, the crumbs of bread are still on the table, the slippers Cassius borrowed are still under one of the many chairs, unorderly dispersed around the room.
There's still mushrooms in a dirty dish in the kitchen somewhere with some bread crusts. And the black pudding in the fridge - I simply forgot to make it - I'm sure they would have loved it, but now nobody's going to eat it and it'll probably just sit there until it goes green and white, at which point either Chris or I will hopefully chuck it.
On the more appetising side of things - my room is tidy and I've washed all my clothes.