Galore

I opened early this morning because of (yet) another dental appointment for my son. I was greeted with a surprise. A young cat had been locked in the tea rooms overnight. Back arched and hair standing on end she guiltily rushed past me when I unlocked the door. I spent a few minutes searching for "evidence" of her evening. I found nothing. She could eat nothing - all the food was hiding in cupboards and fridges. She could drink nothing. Unless she could open the display and unscrew a bottle of local apple juice, in which case she'd be welcome to it and I'd win Britain's Got Talent 2011. But she had done damage by somehow managing to turn off the "prep" fridge. A whole ham, now at room temperature (for goodness knows how long) was binned. Thanks, Garfield.