I was up way too early this morning. Just as I was going to bed Carlos and Rajah had a squabble and Carlos ran out. I think Rajah had decided that Lou was his territory. I didn’t want Carlos to feel he couldn’t come back in so I went and scooped him up, and deposited him inside in his favourite bit. In response Rajah stormed out of the French window in a huff and went into the woods. I figured he’d be gone for ages but he’s a big lad and he knows the woods so I just went to bed.
Half past four and I’m woken up by an almighty deluge. Half asleep I go and check on the cats and Rajah still isn’t home. This isn’t like him, he doesn’t like getting wet any more than the rest of us, so I open up and go stand on the lawn for a second in the rain. I can’t spot him, he’s got a cat flap, so I turn back and head inside and as I turn to close it behind me, he’s standing there looking at me with mild rebuke. He’s freezing and soaked so I dry him up and make a fuss of him. I know I’m off in the morning and want them to be harmonious when I go.
Problem is I didn’t really get back to sleep after restoring harmony. I’ve disbalanced myself.
I just noticed that it’s nine at night here. I’m exhausted. Not just the cats, but I’ve been fighting severe acid reflux for a while now. And last night was all about belching forever because I’ve run out of hot fix Gaviscon. So Ayurvedic Lou kicked into gear with her entire area of expertise. I’m not to drink, gotta eat cucumbers and melon, no meat, nothing fun but fish. I can have chicken too apparently with all the tasty bits chopped off. My ideal meal of a meatcheesewhiskyfatcrunchster – that’s not allowed until I’m less likely to regurgitate acid instead of snoring. My throat is a precious resource. With the beard on off on off my voice is definitely my calling card, and bathing my vocal folds in stomach acid is unlikely to leave them in the best fettle.
I’d do well to live with her. It would be much easier to eat brown rice and veg and make it taste nice. I’m largely unskilled in such matters. But that’s the way of it. I took Lou home, we went for a spin on her car, and now I’m back in London town, about to try and remember how to sleep with this fucking great big road at my back, and no owls.
Thankfully I lived on a motorway sliproad in Reading for two years, ears against the glass. I’ll remember this easily enough.
Maddy is playing plinkyplonky whale noise stuff next door. Boo is fighting toys on my bedroom floor. The road is busy. I am gonna zen out and see what dreams come just as soon as I’ve belched myself like a toddler.
AlBarclay 