All Change

Nothing changes by shouting at me. Nothing changes by shouting 'Listen!' either. I may not be able to stop slurping or dropping clumps of hair on the carpet on demand but I do have a keen eye for what's going on. I can detect a change in the atmosphere, ripples of new determination flowing up and down the stairs as swiftly as their paint rollers. There have been visits from men wearing suits, clutching clipboards and there has been incessant vacuuming. There has been a lot of stuffing things in cupboards and the ordering of other people to stuff things in cupboards. My walking schedule has been disrupted. They keep jumping in the car and going off somewhere, only to return twenty minutes later. And now? Now a wooden board has appeared outside in the front garden. As the dear old Rolf Harris would say, can you guess what it is yet?