A moanday

Woken by the kitten dancing about my head at 6:30. Why has it decided that 6:30 is the time we get up in our house and not 7:00 is a mystery. Anyway the good news is that I was working by 7:30 with, rather gallingly, Calliope dozing next to my laptop.

Today was a proper Moanday. I felt dull and cooped up. Writing about erection problems next to a window dripping with grey rain. Being paid is of course splendid so I kept thinking about the money. At one point dived out into the spitty rain to go to the back cracker.

Then off to buy rooibos (redbush) tea, which Lorraine introduced me to the other day. It's caffeine free and tastes very nice. And it's claimed it has health benefits including (I just learned) soothing prostatitis. This is good news as I have had prostatitis for several weeks. And am taking antibiotics for it. Prostatitis is rubbish, and makes you feel tired all the time. But far worse than prostatitis, however, is hearing myself constantly moaning about minor ailments.

Spent the evening quietly reading the selected poems of modern Japanese poet Shuntaro Tanikawa while the cat gnawed my hand affectionately. Really interesting work, with exhilarating flights of the imagination, and not a haiku in sight.

Spoke to mum and saw photos of the new and still unnamed white kitten. Apparently it will need to wear sunblock because its ears are so pink. When I called it was in Mum's bad books due to a lack of discipline in the toilet department.

Below Mum and Mason's unnamed cat.

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