Minor Achievements

I am still living with stress at work as nothing has been resolved. I know some thrive on stressful environments. I find them terribly corrosive. My energy levels have plummeted, I am unfocused; lasse is the French word which comes to my mind.

So today, recognising that I was slipping again, I made myself a little list of achievable targets for the afternoon. Nothing grand. A trip to the bank to pay the taxman, a cheque for Mother’s Personal Allowance so she can get her hair and feet done, a few emails, a call to the vet surgery to make an appointment for NotCat’s vaccinations, bake a cake.

Mummy’s Boy

Mummy’s Boy

With all the excitement of being at the marina, going for a ride in the boat and seeing the birds, Z needed a cuddle under P’s jacket.

Back in Harness

We spent quite a while looking at cows. When we had got off the boat, or disembarked, which sounds much grander, the cows had been at the far end of the field, but as we turned from our perambulations they were close by the fence.

NotCat sat down. He watched. He lay down to give them his full attention but in comfort. I stood. The path was damp and muddy. Minutes passed. I took some photos. I got bored, and decided if we were going to watch cows all evening I wanted to sit down. I carried NotCat to the steps. The moment I had got comfortable, he lost interest in cows and turned his attention to boats. We crunched along the gravel.

NotCat did that cat thing of walking along the very edge while I held my breath and suggested the grass was nicer to paws.

Easter Monday

The chances of posting today are so slim as to be non-existent. Maybe it’s the weather (windy with some rain, the warmer side of cold, but only just) but the Internet does not want to come out to play. It is probably curled up somewhere snug with a good book.
I’ve just had some cocoa and the last of my hot cross buns, put my book aside and am reflecting on the day. Outside the fenders are squeakily doing their job as the wind continually pushes the boat against the pontoon. Ducks fly over head and the starlings are squabbling in the tree behind me. Two swallows have just danced by, or could they be house martins? The sky is full of sulky pale grey cloud. The weeping willows, so calm and graceful on warm days, are moving like a green frothy tide in the buffeting wind.

A Cat Above the Rest

As those of you know who follow this blog, the cat I write about now, my sweet ginger ninja, is not the cat with whom I first shared this page. A boy of decided opinions, and strong personality, I’m sure had he been literate, the page would be called CatandIsobel. Or possibly, Cat.

He converted this dog person into a cat appreciator, kidnapped my heart and proceeded to conquer my friends and family, as well as making me new friends from his own large circle of admirers.

It sounds like a big claim, but he changed my life. He was a tie, a responsibility, a worry. All those things that people say when they tell you why they don’t want pets. Things I had agreed with. But he gave more than he took, even when he didn’t know it. A visit from Cat brightened Mother’s day. He sliced through her dementia to the animal lover she remains. She was proud that I could let him out of the car and he would walk straight up her garden path to greet her.

When she hovered between life and death last March, he slept on her bed, and she beamed to see him there.

Bad News

The phone rang. It was a colleague calling about some work. Then she asked me if I had heard about another colleague, a woman for whom I have a great deal of respect and affection. She is in hospital and not expected to come out. An investigation into suspected gallstones revealed cancer. It cannot be treated. This vibrant, intelligent woman, a more than sprightly seventy plus, is on palliative care. She is not afraid. She says we all have to die sometime. Apparently, it won’t be long. Her family are proceeding with the planned champagne tea today to mark Mothering Sunday, but she will not be there.
Fittingly, the bright sunny morning has suddenly changed and the sky is full of clouds.

The Gift

Phew. They like it.

I gave my friends their present. I told them that if they did not like it, that would be fine. I would prefer them to refuse it rather than accept it and wonder what on earth to do with it. But they really like it.
That’s nice.

Safe

Not Cat went out first thing, and disappeared. I searched for him, armed with a length of string, a box of treats and my jangling keys, Not a sign. Minstrel, the black and white cat from over the wall, watched me dispassionately.

Eventually, I had to leave for work. This was the first time I have left not knowing where Not Cat was.

River of Stones Day 5 How is Your Mother?

Three people asked, “How is your mother?” Each time the question was sincere. Three times my eyes filled with tears and I wept for the woman she is now, and the woman she will never be again.

One person asked, “How is your mother?” But she did not really want to know. “About the same,” I answered. My heart cold like a stone.

New Year’s Eve

New Year’s Eve isn’t my favourite day. I have celebrated over the years with parties, dinners, drinks and fireworks, and for the most part have not really enjoyed them, though the dinners with a few good friends would rank highest. Increasingly, I am reluctant to stay up until midnight and then start the journey back home.

My friends have become inured to this. So this year, I decided I would celebrate New Year’s Eve by joining a walk, and New Year, by inviting friends to dinner, though not tomorrow.

So tonight finds me home. I have a glass of red wine close to hand, I have just eaten a gorgeous meal, and already my thoughts are turning to bed.

I spent the day in the company of strangers, walking in Surrey. I was a Ramblers’ Group that I rarely walk with.
the day was mild, and before long we were beside a river.

It was a rural rather than a remote walk. I rather liked these pigs.