Categories: uncategorized
Date: 13 September 2004 21:44:43
Turns out one of the menfolk was responsible for accidentally shutting the cat in the dining room last night - resulting in a steaming great 'deposit' for me to clear up at breakfast time. The first I knew of it was a summons from the beloved in that 'I'm trying hard to be tolerant, but it's your cat, and if this happens too often he'll be for the vets' tone. Then half an hour later daugther tells me, she found the poor moggie shut in there at 1 am, and 'thought there was a funny smell, Mummy!' Grrrrrr!
So, that's the last time I sneak upstairs for an early night - and leave the animals' bedtime routine to anyone else. After a (rare visit for me these days) to the evening service I'd been feeling somewhat 'shovelly' myself and fighting off the temptation to indulge in an orgy of 'poor old me.' There's an apt line from a Stewart Henderson poem that contrasts the 'rapturous tone' of some public worship with 'the noiseless despair of alone.' Too apt by half. All sorts of stuff stirred up during the service - then everyone goes into coffee mode and can you find anyone to talk with about it - nope. I generally don't help myself at this point by going into automatic pilot, putting a pleasant, smile on my face, and as seems to be happening more frequently nowadays getting stuck listening to someone else yattering on. It's not that I'm not sympathetic, but sometimes I think I could do listening for England!
Bother - dog needing to go to the loo. Must close.