It's been one of those weeks. Huge swathes of wildlife-lacking normalness and then a mad half hour of Mother Nature at her most bizarre.
Would we have it any other way? Probably not.
Yesterday, at work, there was a sudden flurry of interest in the office entrance. A huddle of my colleagues were staring through the glass door at the large creature apparently gazing back at them.
When some sort of sense kicked in, we rationalised that it was likely trying to scare its reflection into backing down. Which will always be unsuccessful, n'est-ce pas?
Then today, we discovered that, during the night, the department had been overrun by a veritable plague of toadlets. OK, so it wasn't of biblical proportions (there's been a global recession, after all), but we had to re-home up to a dozen of the cutesy wee things.
At least, I think they're young toads rather than frogs, but they were a bit dessicated after their nocturnal wanderings around the dry and dusty corners of Chez Travail, which made identifying them somewhat trickier. Please feel free to correct any faux pas on my part.
Why am I dropping in French phrases everywhere? Not a clue, but it has been a bizarre week.
In other news, I've come to the end of my tether with estate agents. Having chosen the firm we wished to represent us in the housing market, I wasn't expecting to be besieged by another five companies touting for unsolicited business. But sure enough, letters and business cards wafted through our letter box like confetti.
And scribbling "Please call me, urgent" on a business card isn't going to work, not the first time, not the SECOND time, not ever.
Ah, the joys...