If any one had told me that four month old kittens would have the climbing ability of an Everest veteran, I'd have said 'oh yeah?' If anyone had told me that their idea of human interaction was to crouch on the sofa behind me as I attempt to talk on the phone, alternately drooling and tugging on my hair, I'd have said 'oh yuck'. The other night my son and I attended to Sasha's claws. An unenviable task. Two kittens equals 40 claws to clip. We decided not to be too ambitious and do one cat per night. Now Sasha can't rip us to pieces. That leaves Mischa.
As for cooking, if I thought I might become the new Nigella Lawson or the female equivalent of Jamie Oliver, or even a modern version of the 19th century Mrs Beeton, I got carried away.
The Timbales recipe ( see blog 'nosh', January 9) wasn't the spectacular success I'd anticipated. The leek and cheese mix, though tasty, hadn't enough of a sauce consistency, and the Roquefort was too dominant, taste-wise. As for the cracker and walnut crumble topping, a concrete mix would be light and digestible by comparison. Still, I won't give up, especially as at least one family member has encouraged me to try again, incorporating learning from the first experience. 
Resiliently yours
Jane
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