Teenagers . . .

Ok - no - not really. I don't actually have any teenagers living at home. My son is well past that stage. But after yesterday, I feel as if I have a furry teenaged daughter causing trouble at home.

You guessed - Princess Flora Flooziebelle is now almost grown up and busy demanding that she gets things HER way all the time. It began when Judy Theobald came for the Radio Lincolnshire interview. Flora strolled in, inspected the newcomer, investigated her handbag, rooting round in it to see if there was anything worth having in there, then tried for some of the coffee and biscuits that had been provided.

Told to get off the table, she decided to jump on Sid and Dylan - particularly Dylan who she rode around the room until he was rescuded by the Magnet. Bored now, she flicked her tail at everyone in a real 'Whatever!' gesture, knocked a couple of teaspoons on to the floor, and went to the french door, demanding to be let out. Thinking this would bring us some peace, we let her go.

Peace? We were in the middle of the interview when she came back to the door with a couple of her boyfriends from down the road. These two - a handsome black gentleman and a big grey tabby - are arch-rivals for her attention and in a very short space of time the recording of the interview was interrupted by growls, snarls and hisses as the boys had a face off over who was going to spend time with the Floozie. I'm sure some of the fracas ended up on the recording so you might even catch a hint of it in the interview if you listen in.

Once 'the boys' had been sent on their way, Madame obviously felt she wasn't getting enough attention and so she went away for a little while and came back to the (luckily closed) glasss doors with a very large very dead bird in her mouth. I think she thought it was a better offer for our guest than a few paltry biscuits.

Once Judy had left, I went back to my office to get back to work. Flora followed me but very soon the appeal of watching the cursor move across the screen palled and she resorted to that regular adolescent complaint of 'I'm BORED!'

So she went out into the garden again. She knows she is supposed to be inside for the night when darkness falls, but not this night. She was far too busy playing with the first of the hedgehogs who had appeared - oh, and the boys were back.

She finally sauntered in at around midnight, but only then because it had turned very cold and there was a bit of warmth inside. Oh, and where was supper? I barely managed to bite back the words 'Amd what time do you call this?' If we thought that was it, we were deluded. We had barely got to sleep before she started chasing Dylan around the house, bounding up and down the stairs and running across our bed.

This morning she's the picture of sweetness and innocence, elegant and beautiful as can be. And the wicked ragamuffin who was roaming in the darkness has vanished under the perfect grooming she can display when she wants to.

Hmmm . . . sounds a lot like my latest heroine. Perhaps I should call her Flora!

Two birthday week winners this morning because there was no one new to pick on Tuesday - so would Jill and Robyn L please email me with your postal address and I'll sort out the prizes.

Mary and the two Denises, if you are visiting here today, your prizes are in the mail to you .

And of course if you live in the UK there's a General Election today so it's time to get out there and vote. It's going to be fascinating to see what the government of this country looks like by the time my birthday actually dawns.