Paranormal ActivitI

What a time we have been having-what can it all mean? The freak weather would put you over the edge, for a start. Heat lamp effect one minute, tropical monsoon the next.It's not at all good for my hair and complexion; I'm starting to look like David Dickinson. I went in to Caffe Nero the other day, out of the blazing sunshine, for an innocent take-out cappucino and came out ,five minutes later, to a flooded, darkened street, like something out of Blade Runner. I saw a woman pass me in a trench coat and flip flops and I actually understood the point of her outfit , rather than wanting to exclaim and point. People's cars have been found submerged and/or floating away. Mind you, we are still expected at school even if we outnumber the pupils. The new boss is such an eager Belvoir, the woman would get to school in a kayak, if necessary. She's been coming in, in the middle of the night near enough, to inspect the flood damage, put buckets all about and do a spot of mopping. The atmosphere has been quite surreal. You arrive, at a civilised hour, with the pupils, feeling like Morecambe and Wise are about to appear in sailor outfits and do that Anchors Aweigh dance routine in which they rotate, with their feet stuck in the buckets. A number of wood lice have tried to move in with me or been borne in to the conservatory on a wave, much like Cuban refugees. In such times of need,I,the well-known nature-lover, tolerate their presence and allow them to bring their slug and earwig friends to my camp. It's most unrewarding when, after a hot spell, I come home to Death Valley; crispy little corpses strewn around the floor. My computer and broadband have also been behaving very oddly. The broadband is intermittent but it bucks up its ideas when I take the phone off the hook. I keep ringing up Sky and giving off about this-it's most annoying having to repeat your personal details and secret bloody password. Why would anyone in their right mind try to impersonate you in this situation? You don't get your kicks being patronised about your tupperware microfilter, by a person you can clearly hear rifling through Robert Murdoch's manual during the call. I did enjoy a brief spell of broadband connection after a visit from an 'engineer'; a jovial individual in utility pants, who enjoyed tea and Ginger Snaps with David Dickinson, said 'Ooh,here we go!' every time his phone rang and had a good laugh at my wiring. Later,I got A Chorus Line going on Spotify ,as I like a bit of Broadway when I'm pretending to clean the house. I was just in the middle of a number, with hoover nozzle microphone, when off went the broadband, so I shut the page down and got on with watching the football with my mum and Middle Sister. This was both enjoyable and comforting as they kept saying what I was thinking, eg; 'He's lovely in that red, isn't he?' or 'I'm just cut to the bone for him after that missed penalty'. I went to bed, alarm set,prepared to surf to school, rainmate on head, and I swear I set the alarm. It did not go off , however, but I was jolted awake and indeed bolt upright at 8am, as the broadband connection activated itself and 'Tits and Ass' from A Chorus Line came blasting up the stairs at full volume. The song was in my head all day as a consequence and I kept wanting to sing bits of it, in front of the kids. I'm probably under investigation now by the Mulder-and-Scully-for-perverts people.