I filed my taxes (such a penitential job) on Thursday, and I owe. That’s because almost all my income is pensions, of which I get no fewer than four that together add up to a comfortable competence (as Anthony Trollope would put it). The withheld income tax on each pension is calculated as if the others don’t exist, so this year I must pony up lots and lots.

On the whole, I don’t mind that state of affairs and I think I’ll leave it be. The alternative is wasting hours of my life that I’ll never get back to contact the appropriate gummint minions — four of them, mind you — to have more tax deducted at source.

Off to Canadian Tire to buy Nature’s Miracle spray. I moved the second litter box to the ground floor in the hope that Watson assaulted the carpet only because he just could not face the stairs.