Last week, Mirinda came home with a number of insect bites about her body. She straight away assumed they were bedbugs. After reading all about bedbugs, I was despatched up to the flat to see if there were any in residence.
First up, though, I had to go into Farnham to find some sort of plug for the diarrhoea. I found a very effective tablet which sort of reverses everything. Armed with this, I steeled myself and set off for the flat.
On the train I sat right next to the toilet which, unusually was not only working but pretty clean. Though, sadly, I didn’t need to use it.
At the flat, I set to and ripped everything apart, searching for the tell tale signs of bedbug occupation. There were none. No signs and no bugs. The flat is entirely bug free.
It was then a trip back to settle down with a few more
boring interesting articles for Mirinda’s Corpus.
The train (and Tube) trip was made that much more comfortable by the new book I’m reading. It’s My Story by Julia Gillard. She has a very readable style. And it might be because I’m not yet halfway through but I can’t for the life of me figure out why people don’t like her.