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Of course, at the start of my week long break, I thought I'd have bags of time, and would finally be able to do all those things I've been wanting to do for ages and haven't had time for: latex the kitchen walls 'cause they're starting to look really grotty now, borrow a drill and finally put up the pictures that have been gathering dust leaning against the walls of my flat, stop by friends I haven't seen in fuck knows how long (laden with gifts for their 1 or 2 year old that I've yet to formally make my acquaintance with), visit the Holbein exhibition, see if I could try my hand at fanfiction... -- so, did I do any of these things? No, I didn't. Instead, I let myself get bogged down with paperwork and organising my Dad's imminent move into a home. It had to be done and I didn't mind doing it, but still, it detracted from my 'me'-time, and ran contrary to my plans.

And I had sort of hoped the weather would hold. But no such luck. Temperatures plummeted, to the extent that I had to take an evening out of my busy schedule to see if I could get the central heating to work again, and to my utter amazement, I could! (it's always tricky, that; most years I have to resort to calling out an engineer to check the whole system, knowing full well there's nothing wrong with it, and casually ask him to switch it on since he's already fiddling with it anyway) -- and it rained incessantly, the downpours only interrupted by the occasional hailstorms and cold gusting winds. Of course, it's fine now.

On the plus side, I did get to spend some quality time with my cats - which may not sound like much of an adventure, but does give me oodles of joy. They're still young enough (only 2 years old) to be playful and love chasing after little balls and toy mice, and when they're done playing, they like draping their warm little bodies over me and purr then purr some more. I love my cats. They saved me, when after Aloysius' death (3 years ago this months - my how time flies) I hated coming home at night and not be greeted by him. He and I had been together for 15 years when he died, and I mistakenly swore that I would never commit the ultimate sacrilege and get another cat in to take his place -- but 8 months down the road I could not believe how profoundly unhappy I'd become through lack of a feline companion. Then, through a friend of my sister's, I came into contact with someone whose cat had had a litter a couple of weeks previously, and who had managed to find a home for all but one of the kittens. I didn't think I wanted that particular one either, as she was described to me as all black, and Aloysius had been that - but as soon as I walked in the door, she waddled up to me, got into my lap before I was even seated, put her paw to my nose and said meow. How could I resist? Leila came home with me that very night, and I've been happy to spend time at home again ever since.

A month or two later, I found another kitten to be a friend to Leila: Clio. She's the brainy one, but Leila's No. 1 Cat, and doesn't let her forget it ever.

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desdemonaspace
Oct. 17th, 2003 09:58 am (UTC)
Yes, they're our little darlings. :-)