This is being written very very silently in the privacy of a room far far away from where Shirl is slaughtering a free range chicken.
This Gurl is used to the sight of blood – to start with, I came home from the Borders with half my hand hanging off, with the Gurl covered in my crimson stuff and now she is hacking to death some poor unfortunate feathered friend to satisfy her blood lust.
Only half an hour or so ago she was discovered butchering poor little Piglet’s paws, under the pretence of clipping them…. Blood all over the kitchen, her jeans and half a toilet roll to mop it all up.
If you don’t hear from me again, don’t let her into your home if she comes a visiting. And don’t let her have anything sharp…