Daddy says that our anti-insect system in the mansion is ‘state-of-the-art’. I will have to ask my tutor, Copernicus, what that actually means, because I simply can’t make head or tail of it. He was on edge for a frightfully long time after Mummy discovered ants in the bread bin. The whole place was in an uproar, so much so that I had my friend Matilda over for a playdate and we had to go out on the grounds to one of our treehouses to escape the ruckus.
Men in funny suits running back and forth, Daddy barking orders…I later found out that he had summoned every pest control expert from Mornington and beyond to the house, and they were slightly surprised to find that they were all there at the same time. It was like a convention, I suppose. Matilda must have thought that our home had gone utterly mad. I rather think it had!
Now, the mansion has all kinds of ways out keeping the animals outside. There’s also a panic button in the kitchen that Mummy can press if she sees a termite or a cockroach, and it’ll summon a pest control agent. I rather think that Daddy dislikes insects and bugs somewhat, given his reaction. He sacked the entirety of the kitchen staff and brought in new ones, then gave them extensive training in spotting infestations. Golly, I’d hate to see how he’d react if he knew I was keeping a stray rat in my room and feeding him random bits of French brie I manage to steal from the afternoon tea platter. I think he likes it, but I just think about how Daddy would react if he saw my little friend. Then again, he never actually comes into my room, being far too busy with office matters. Mummy wouldn’t understand either, and I just know that Archie would tell on me, the little beast.
Those termite control people from Mornington are terrible efficient, however. Perhaps it’s time my rat friend found a new home. Then he could bite someone else for a change.
Typical: you order your windows from an esteemed Estonian company, have them shipped over specially and then at the first sign of a storm, they all show themselves to be worthless. This was meant to be quality European double-glazing, and now the study window has blown in. My red-grade files were almost ruined by the rain.
It’s unacceptable. I’ve half a mind to simply buy out the company and install sub-par coffee machines on every floor that dispense the wrong drinks. However, the paperwork would be absolutely frightful. Currently I’m devoting my efforts to finding a place in Melbourne that does timber window replacements. Buy local, that’s what my Father always told me. Support the local economy until the way when you become rich enough to take it over. It’s essentially sowing the seeds for your own success! It’s worked for me thus far, but right now I have to have the mansion windows replaced. Quality Australian workmanship, this time!
Perhaps it’s time for a change. I have a large viewing window in my study the looks out upon the mansion grounds, gilded with timber beams and specially crafted to allow the greatest viewing space. However, I’m rethinking the design. I host business partners in my study on occasion, and one must keep up with the times. Aluminium is currently a big-name product in the window industry, so perhaps it could be incorporated. Cecelia will have a fit if I replace the window in the library, but for my private study this may suffice. Yes, perhaps…if aluminium windows in Melbourne are the trend, I must keep up with the Joneses. Dirty, money-grubbing Joneses. Always trying to impress with their fancy villa on the hill. Well, Whitehall shall stand tall with its aluminium windows, the pride of the community! And it may help me to seal a business deal or two. Another thing father taught me: dress to impress, and that includes your office space.
-Percival Clancy III