Warm in the flat with the heating on. Boo has been demanding much play and I’m mobile again so I can sort that out for her.
I went and got her some of her favourite chicken food. She’s fed automatically and litter is turned over by a robot that Brian bought. She gets her stimulus from zoomie.
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Literally as I wrote that sentence she walloped into my bedroom, up across the bed, onto the windowsill, knocked over a brass ornament that knocked over the light that knocked over my favourite coffee mug that knocked over my sand gong for incense. Ornament is fine. Light is fine. Mug is in a million pieces. I just hoovered up the sand from a place of power in the desert in Saudi. I’m told you can’t train cats, but I’ve closed the door on her for a bit as I’m pissed off. She knew she had fucked up. She watched the carnage for my reaction. I love her to bits but I’m really sad about the mug. But this is the thing… I was told she was an indoor cat but she ain’t, she isn’t what we were told she is. She’s barely off being a kitten and if I could give her a garden I know she would love it. If she’s gonna stay happy here she needs constant play but then, on days like today when she gets the play she wants, it makes her think that THE WHOLE WORLD IS PLAY.
It was a big old King Edward mug and just this morning I thought you myself “This will dissolve one day, and if I’m drinking coffee in bed I will really regret it.” The dishwasher has been cracking the Staffordshire China for years. I loved it for the size, not the message. RIP King Edward and your marriage to whatever her name was. Your mug outlasted you. I’ve still got my Charles and Lady Di mug which amuses me as the only souvenir from that wedding that tells it how it was:
I’ve already let Boo back in. She was just zooming. She’s a cat. I need to tidy up after myself. I was playing hide and seek with her for ages, pretending to be an ogre.
Saturday night, eh?? It’s only a few years ago I would have been halfway up Nelson’s Column in a bikini singing Vera Lynn.
Sad news today just before bed. David Lynch as well. This winter is cruel. I am lucky to have this nest with this hat, and to be able to afford to have the heating on and to cook an incredible reduced shoulder of it lamb and survive for three days on it in various configurations.
And now I’m gonna have a hot bath. I’m sad about my mug. Using the sand for incense meant I was already ready to lose it and I’ve got more. Bless Boo. She’s a cat. She just does.
Also that mug was the biggest one I had. She’s made space.
AlBarclay 