New Year's Eve

I've never celebrated NYE much, not living in Scotland, and this evening will be no exception. We are staying in with a duck and some of the better wine. But I hope everyone has a great New Year's, whatever you're doing, and all the best for 2006!

In the 'You couldn't make it up' department

In the midst of your NY revels, spare a thought for pensioner Bill Brooks, quietly eating his dinner last night when a 10 inch goldfish fell down the chimney. It was still alive, though bloody lucky given that the fire was lit.

Mr Brooks leaped into action and restored it to health in a bucket. They think a heron pinched it from someone's pond. It had beak marks on its back, apparently.

Life in Hogsmead

Why I like living here, Reason 406: the local real estate agent, the admittedly very strange Ralph Bending (http://www.ralphbending.com/letting.php) is currently advertising (not on the website that I can find, unfortunately) a cottage 'complete with were crows.'

The shit we sell

T has been loading our partner company's website over the past few days: it sells a huge range of herbs, including Chinese ones. One of the Chinese ones baffled T until he checked out its Latin name and discovered that it is, in fact, Flying Squirrel Shit.

At first we thought this was simply a name - there's a plant called Deer's Tongue - but no, it really is squirrel shit.

Reminiscent of the Civet Shit Coffee that someone bought a year or so ago, which I did actually try. It tasted like coffee. Although as I remarked at the time, nothing that comes out of a cat's arse is worth $40 a pound.