Weird night Sunday. All the lifts in both tower blocks conked out,(sabotage,perhaps?) leaving the poor concierge trying to get 'emergency repairs' to come out, or at least answer the phone, while a crowd of tenants, including the octogenrian lady from the 20th floor, simmered around him. Fortunately for me, I was already indoors, but Renate, in a fraught emotional state RAN up 15 floors, then rang my bell to anounce she was going to faint. Really, I guess, she wanted to talk about the passing of 5-year-old Graham, Metheusela of gerbils. I felt her pain, of course. Sometimes you just need to speak to another animal loon... He shuffled off peacefully early Sunday morning. Alas, poor Graham - the last of his batch. She buried him with his family, in the rose bed out front.