23 June 2014

The little old cat, blind and deaf as she is, had a touch of diarrhoea, to put it mildly. She succumbed to it in the dining room and most of downstairs in her gentle quiet way before she wandered upstairs - leaving a neat trail of footprints - while we were enjoying a most pleasant cup of tea outside before watering the garden. 
Things went on from there and soon I was on my knees washing the hall and the kitchen floors and basically every surface and by the time I got to the stairs I suddenly remembered the time when I sanded down the banisters and the steps and the smell of wood, which was quite some years ago now. 
Upstairs I could hear R talking on the phone to Nuala, who is also quite deaf now when she wants to: So, I hear you went walking down the East Pier? What was that? Someone stopped you? Oh, your walker got stuck on the bus? A Spanish student, you say? Ah, people are so nice. He kissed you? Well, aren't you the lucky girl. Sure, of course we'll have a grand party for your 100th. 
And so on.


  1. O the old animals. We love them and we despair of them and we clean up after them as we hope someone will do for us one day.

    XX Beth

  2. Beautiful and soulful in every way.