What will I find dead in the house this time?
When I return to Einar there’s usually something dead in the house.
Despite the house being locked and the windows closed there is usually something dead here. How it gets in and dies is usually a mystery to me. Here’s a previous welcome mat whodunnit:
This time there’s nothing dead. It’s worse. There’s a large pile of something dried on the kitchen floor and the dried up remains of a flood spreading over the floor and evidence that it flooded across to the other side of the room. At first I think mushrooms have sprouted through the Lino. What is it?
There’s more on occasional stairs. There’s some outside the bathroom. I kick it with my foot. It’s not coming through the Lino, it’s on the Lino.
I don’t need to be Sherlock to guess what it is. Or even C. Auguste Dupin, the original detective created by Edgar Allan Poe, the character which Arthur Conan Doyle copied mercilessly, to much success.
It’s cat poo. Cat poo in such abundance that it’s formed a mini mountain on the kitchen floor. There’s been a flood of cat effluent across my kitchen floor so great that it’s formed a tsunami. A poonami. A catastrophic poonami.
It’s a good job I have two mops and buckets. Thankfully the mop head matches the mop handle, unlike the time I bought a broom head and a broom handle from the local shop here. I went looking for a broom. Sadly, they didn’t have one, but what they did have was a broom handle and a broom head. I bought them, took them home, and then realised that they didn’t fit one another.
I mop. And mop. And mop. It’s nearly clean now.
There is no photograph to accompany this post. Be thankful.