It's been pretty quiet on the paltrygeist front. It doesn't seem that we've had much either on the poulter front or the geist end since late last year / early this year. The curtain between the kitchen and utility room is still trying to either garrotte me or hug me (but most likely garrotte) despite the fact that I changed it from a plastic butcher-style curtain to a bamboo one, but I've never been sure if that was a manifestation of whatever the hell this is or not.
(Although having it continue after changing it to something heavier is suspect, I guess. It still has a thing for food too.)
On the whole, it's been fairly peaceful.
Until one of the dogs tried to sneak into the kitchen to steal the cat meat last night and something threw the plastic lid of the steamer right at her.
There was this almighty clatter and as I knew where she'd sneaked I shouted at her — she's a phenomenally clumsy dog* — and went to pick up what she'd knocked over.
Except she hadn't. Not unless she'd somehow climbed on top of the drying rack beside the sin, which is where the steamer lid was. And I'd left it angled back towards the window, so for it to miraculously fall by itself, it'd have fallen against the wall.
So yes, the paltrygeist took the opportunity to victimise my poor dog.
Words were had.
* She often looks over her shoulder while she's walking, turns back and usually thumps her head into a cupboard or door or something. I've also seen her trip over her own feet before.
Asexual, aromantic, and transmasc non-binary. No, I have no idea how I ended up writing romance either.