We've nearly been washed away in Pembrokeshire this week. On Monday, heavy rainfall gave usa 'high-alert' warning. Drains throughout the county were unable to, well, drain.

Peter hates getting himself wet while I like the rain, up to a point. The point is, cats don't like getting their paws and fur wet. Not thatI have a cat but, my daughter who's enjoying a few days away, has a feline visitor andI have been appointed asBarracks Commander, Quarter Master, sous chef or whatever I want to be,as long as the cookhouse isn't blown up, I think.

So that's Harry, Oliver, myself and one cat, endless meals, cat treats, cups of tea, friends calling, waiting for a meal, more food, baking, frying,toasting, roasting, 'eat it now before it goes cold' and all the usual exhortations.

(I jest, because cooking appeals to my maternal instincts and they are all very grateful that Ibother and want to help clear up butI don't let them - most of them havepart-time jobs to finance their college existences and are pretty tired).

Harry and Oliver make ablefoot soldiers untilHarry, being ten minutes older, asserts his perceived superiority.Oliver restores the status quo by wrestling him down and then things return to a more or less even keel again. (Though Oliverwas First Lord toRichard 111, filmed in Pembrokeshire this last summer, thisbrush with glory does not stop him from settling scores with Harry.)

Actually, Oliver chose a duvet daywhen they were casting for the film - the boys are exhaustedmost of the time, despite the 'power' protein shakes. Their 'playboy' lifestylehas its downside, (they've graduated fromparties in the Preselisto the flats of student friendsin universities in almost every county in the land. Student rail cards get them there, then taxis to and from the station - living la vida loca, or something that looks like it).

Now, as I was saying about King Richard: Harrywas screen-tested and chosen as a lord, butbefore he got his moment in the sun, literally, because they were filming on variousbeachesin the south of the county, he was called on duty as a lifeguard, a whole season's work, instead of just a few days as an 'extra'.

My daughter, as the mother of twins,isacreative thinker. With admirable presence of mind, she hauledOliver out of bed, rang the producer and before you could say 'tout de suit', 'immediatement' or 'nawr, y funud hon',sent him to St. David's, to see if he could stand in for Harry. They are not identical twins, but my mother cannot tell them apart, nor can many other people.Not only was Olivergiven the part, he was promoted to First Lord.

To return to my story again - (everything connects with everything else, if you want it to and I do): there's a newgirl on the block, an adorableblack, fluffy cat belonging to peoplea few doors away. There's a song: 'Keep a-knocking but you caint come in', butthe song is wrong about this feline. She comes in all the time.

Itpoured last night butthe cat hadto go home. She'd been inall day.When I lifted her up she purred butstruggled when we gotto the front door.I managed to point her towards her own dwelling and watcheduntil she'd reached the doorstep.

When the last of the logs had burnt in the stove and one of the girlfriends had arrived, we all had a cup of tea andwent to bed.

Seveno'clock the following morning I heard a loud miaowing, outside I thought.

Ten minuteslater, the landing carpet was being scratched. Somehow, the cat had made it back in. Fearing for the carpet, I took her downstairsand gave hercat snacks.

Later, Harry said he'dlet the cat in during the 'wee small hours'.

Breakfast for us was vegetarian sausagesand eggs, toast andtea, bananas and grapes. ( Note: vege. sausages are good for breakfast as they are quickto cook and don't make a h...ish mess in the 'frimpan'.)

When I went home later, it was pouring. The drains outside my daughter's house couldn't cope and half the road was under water.

A nursery rhyme popped into my mind: 'They went to sea in a sieve, they did/ They went to sea in a sieve'. Thinking of allthe cooking I'd produced in the last few days Ithoughtthat might be the fate of Harry, Oliver and myself, squeezing ourselves into a sieve. Then I remembered the cat. We'd have had to find room for her, too, I suppose.