Yesterday (Sunday), I felt a little like Cassandra Mortmain at the start of I Capture the Castle, only I wasn’t sitting in the sink, but on the sofa. But my notebook was resting on a fleece throw (Christmas 2011 vintage), and I was writing at a downward angle because my lap was occupied by the cats. One sat, guard-like, on my left thigh, glaring at the coffee-table, while the other groomed herself as assiduously as she could while balancing on my right leg. If I’d been typing this up at the computer, instead of scribbling illegibly in a notebook, no doubt the two of them would have been sitting on the keyboard. Which might have made for an interesting blog post, I suppose. . .
Watching how they seemed instinctively to know just how to get in the way most infuriatingly, I wondered again at how easily they can develop separation anxiety even before I’ve left the room – I can only assume that’s what’s going on when I come back, usually a few minutes later, and find they’ve colonised my seat. At least it keeps the seat warm for me, and it doesn’t take long for them to stroll back onto my (admittedly rather ample!) lap. One of them gets particularly lonely for my company at around 6.00am every day, and then does a great big “Touch me not” routine when I eventually get up. SLOC has decided that she’s the one he’s going to turf out first. The other one will get to stay, but only because I’ll have turfed SLOC out before he can get to her. . .
Anyway, speaking of I Capture the Castle, much as I’d love to live in a castle, I don’t think I could hack it in winter, not if my weediness about spending the season in a city cottage – albeit one with storage heating only – is anything to go by! This weekend we had our first real cold snap and I had to put on my fingerless gloves in the house. It’s only the 4th of November; what on earth am I going to be like in January?