There's a frog under my desk

 I was sitting at the computer; George was lying next to me. I took off my glasses and stood up, noticing George had what looked like a leaf on his side. I went to brush it off. It hopped away under the desk.

Yes, I know it's disgustingly dusty and hairy under my desk. Blame George. It couldn't possibly be my fault for never sweeping up.

Husband was in the bath. I went upstairs and said, "There's a frog under my desk."

He burst out laughing then said, "Well, I'm not getting out of the bath to catch it."

I went into the kitchen to start preparing diner, popping back into the study every now and then to check on Froggy. After some minutes he had hopped over to the side of the room.

When Husband finally emerged we discovered that Froggy had now disappeared. I feared he had squeezed in behind something and would die there. Husband said to put out a bowl of water as he would be drawn to that.

Later I went to Zac's still not having found Froggy. 

I worried about him.

I got home and my first question unusually was not how had George been, but had he found Froggy.

Yes, he had. Froggy had hopped into the hall where he was doing a good impression of a ball of fluff so covered was he in George hair. Husband put him outside in the bushes and I could sleep  in peace.

* * * * * * 

I was reminded tonight how fortunate I am to have a safe bed in which to sleep peacefully. 

Our Zac's gathering was supposed to be on the beach but as it was damp we met under the shelter at the front of County Hall (just behind where we would have met on the beach). A woman, someone I'd not seen before, had joined us. It turned out we were in her 'bedroom'. She had her sleeping bag set up close to the doors at the top of the steps.

There are security patrols in the area but they're not there all the time. I can't imagine how scary it must be to be a woman sleeping rough and alone.

I think she enjoyed the coffee, cake and biscuits, and stayed with us through the gathering. Sean was talking to her and afterwards he told me she was raving about my chilli. (The chilli I make on Wednesdays for the free lunches we provide from Zac's.) It's so lovely to get nice feedback like that from the people who eat it.

* * * * * *

Kiz, who's an artist I follow on Twitter, offered to send a hand-drawn postcard to the first six people who requested one. I was lucky and received this yesterday. An added bonus: the dog featured is called George.

It arrived in an envelope. I'm not used to getting hand-written mail especially when I don't recognise the writing. I puzzled over it for some time trying to guess who it might be from. Then Husband said, "Perhaps it's your half-sister."

I wrote a letter to her a couple of months ago asking if we could meet. I've never met her, and didn't know about her until maybe fifteen years ago, when I was told she didn't want to meet me. I'd forgotten I'd written so when Husband said that my heart leapt into my mouth and it was with some trepidation I opened the envelope. I wasn't sure if I wanted to know her response.

I'd forgotten about the postcard too so it was still a lovely surprise.

P.S. I've no idea how Froggy got into the house and came to be lying on George's side. I don't know if he hitched a ride with George or just hopped in of his own accord as we had the doors open all day. 

P.P.S. Kiz also has a Redbubble shop.