If I ever write that book . . .

. . . the one about living here, I finally have a title.  My son called me out into the hall tonight, and said "Look at this."  It was a young newt, going for a stroll up the tiles in the hall.  I picked him (her?) up and carefully put him (her) back outside, but as there is a big gap beneath the door, it may just come back.  We have had lots of young newts/frogs/toads on this particular pathway over the years.  Perhaps it is genetic memory.

Oh, and the book title?  "A newt in the house is worth two in the pond . . ." or something like that!  Author:  Gussie Finknottle (of course!)