Paul McKenna and the rat

Last night was a little unusual to say the least.

Paul McKenna was having a live web chat on Mumsnet and I was determined to 'be there' so to speak. I wanted to ask him a question but could not think of anything and besides, the other Mumsnetters had already asked some brilliant questions. My brain was void of any though and perfectly ripe for suggestion.

What is it that comes over you when someone famous is live and willing to 'speak' but you become tongue tied and your brain goes into snooze mode?
Ewan McGregor once shoved me out of the way, rather boorishly I might add. He was with a group of friends in Perth and it was just after 'Train Spotting'. I was too awe struck to do my 'Now Listen Here, Young man' rant.
I will shove him roughly if it ever happens again though. Cheeky upstart.

Paul McKenna was in good fettle and I was drawn in to all the things he claimed he could help with... I could become a happy, skinny, non-smoking paragon of virtue. I could confidently waltz into a room and glow.
My inner Brian Blessed would be relegated to a shelf in the box room and I could be Amazing. He even offered some free tickets to go to London, "As his guest". (Not to me personally but there would be a draw of names).
It was all terribly exciting and glamorous.

Then I heard 'It' at the window.
Scratching and scrabbling.

A large rat chose that very moment to steal some of the new suet and berry bird cake from the little cake cage on the window.
I opened the curtains and shone the lamp on it and felt freaked out at the thought that there was only two millimeters of glass between myself and a Large Rat.

The Farmer had gone to bed early and I did not want to waken him so had to deal with the Rat myself.
Hassle.
We have sealed the front door off with cardboard and duct tape for winter. The rat gnaws had been filled in with tinfoil and a large heavy curtain nailed up to stop the draught.

I would have to go out in the pitch dark (because there is never a working torch when you need one), walk over ice right round the house, not fall, then chase a large rat away.
I bet Paul McKenna could 'encourage' The Rat to go.

Then the Dilemma kicked in.
I have been a vegetarian and occasional vegan for 36 years and cannot bear to harm any living thing. My ethics had to take a back seat when I met and married a beef farmer but that was Karma, perhaps.
I could not shoot the rat because a) it was dark b) it was slippery underfoot and c) I came over all vegan.
The only solution, therefore, was to throw a brush at it but carefully so as not to break the window.

Of course, it all went Pete Tong.
The commotion woke the Farmer, scared the Rat and all my Paul McKenna good intentions vanished as I craved a fag, handful of chocolate and a confidence boost all at once. I nearly munched the suet and berry cake myself.

The feeder has been moved today and strung up on the washing line. No doubt the cunning rat will creep with stealth along the rope but it won't bang on the window. My mind and concience are clear.
I have thought of a question for Paul McKenna.

Paul, where would a slightly overweight, agoraphobic, forgetful 50 year old woman have put the earphones of the MP3 player which contains your self help CD? (And what sorcery lies within this

tiny little player which can house a million tracks yet is only an inch high?)

Tell me, Paul, or the Rat gets it.