Ambush
Calliope and Lorraine have been conducting a turf war. The cat, who usually sleeps quietly on the bed, is persistently jumping hard on Lorraine's ribs in the middle of the night, sleeping on her head, and digging its claws into her feet. I have kept out of this, figuring a Darwinian pecking order will eventually emerge.
However, at 4 am I woke up gouting blood. Unaccountably Calliope had sunk one of her claws deep in my lip, and then ripped it out. A feline Pearl Harbour. After filling several tissues with gore I came back into the bedroom and pulled that cat from under the bed and beat it like a ginger stepchild until it zoomed off. This monstrous behaviour utterly appalled Lorraine, who lay awake as if suddenly finding herself in bed with Peter Sutcliffe.
Woke up later with the cat purring on my chest, so I was forgiven by her anyway. Up and quickly out into the rain. I had a few errands to run, and then Lorraine and I met up with Sophie, Andros, Christof and Elektra at Bills for breakfast. Lots of chatting and fun. Christof doing his usual twenty questions routine. I really like Sophie's family. Then fond farewells, and out in the rain to do some last minute shopping, before I travelled up to London to see Mum and Mase, leaving Lorraine to do more housey stuff.
Nice to arrive in Edgware after a longish seeming journey, and sit by the cozy fire, and sip some sloe gin. Mason has a sore throat which is forcing him to whisper like a Mafiosi. I discovered that they were both shocked by the sudden death of their next door neighbour Glen, matriarch of the Welsh family next door a couple of days before. Otherwise they had a busy and fun festive season.
Some swapping of Christmas pressies and feeding. Later we all watched a comedy movie called Love you to death which was apparently a true story of a wife's bungled attempt to murder a philandering husband.
Calliope and Lorraine have been conducting a turf war. The cat, who usually sleeps quietly on the bed, is persistently jumping hard on Lorraine's ribs in the middle of the night, sleeping on her head, and digging its claws into her feet. I have kept out of this, figuring a Darwinian pecking order will eventually emerge.
However, at 4 am I woke up gouting blood. Unaccountably Calliope had sunk one of her claws deep in my lip, and then ripped it out. A feline Pearl Harbour. After filling several tissues with gore I came back into the bedroom and pulled that cat from under the bed and beat it like a ginger stepchild until it zoomed off. This monstrous behaviour utterly appalled Lorraine, who lay awake as if suddenly finding herself in bed with Peter Sutcliffe.
Woke up later with the cat purring on my chest, so I was forgiven by her anyway. Up and quickly out into the rain. I had a few errands to run, and then Lorraine and I met up with Sophie, Andros, Christof and Elektra at Bills for breakfast. Lots of chatting and fun. Christof doing his usual twenty questions routine. I really like Sophie's family. Then fond farewells, and out in the rain to do some last minute shopping, before I travelled up to London to see Mum and Mase, leaving Lorraine to do more housey stuff.
Nice to arrive in Edgware after a longish seeming journey, and sit by the cozy fire, and sip some sloe gin. Mason has a sore throat which is forcing him to whisper like a Mafiosi. I discovered that they were both shocked by the sudden death of their next door neighbour Glen, matriarch of the Welsh family next door a couple of days before. Otherwise they had a busy and fun festive season.
Some swapping of Christmas pressies and feeding. Later we all watched a comedy movie called Love you to death which was apparently a true story of a wife's bungled attempt to murder a philandering husband.
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