Posted in Life and Family, My Cats

Experiment: Boring a Friend

When I was in Facebook yesterday, I came across an article by Michael Thompson (linked to by Gretchen Rubin) about deepening your connections with friends or family. The suggestion was to write ‘2-minute boring emails’ every day to each other about what you’ve been doing. You start to feel you know each other better and can have better conversations. I expect this is a particularly good idea in the middle of a lockdown! I don’t think it works so well if it’s just one person plugging away — probably better if two or more people like this idea and write to each other. Maybe it’s a case of starting somewhere and seeing what happens! I’m giving it a go.

Monday 19 October 2020

Dear Honey

Hope you enjoyed your weekend. I didn’t realize yesterday it was the weekend; I thought it was the middle of the week!

I keep meaning to change the alarm on my watch because it wakes me too early. If I hadn’t been writing this email, I would have forgotten yet again. Of all the alarms I’ve ever tried, this watch is the best because it buzzes on my wrist. It’s quite a gentle way of waking up.

I nearly forgot to put the bin out the front, but remembered when Mum put her wastepaper basket outside her bedroom door when she went for a snooze. I always see it when I’m in the middle of doing other things because of passing the door at the time… vexing. Every week I check which colour of bin the neighbours put on the street, but they are getting later and later (probably waiting to see what *we* put out) and I’ve forgotten to put ANY bin out a couple of times because I waited so long that I forgot. Today I just looked it up on the council site.

Nothing interesting on TV. Supper was chicken pie with mash, Brussels sprouts and chicken gravy. I ran out of potatoes so used frozen mash. I’ve never made it before so didn’t use enough, and told Mum just to eat the lot, as I had roasted a couple of parsnip sticks for myself. I asked if the mash tasted all right, and she said yes.

I got meat balls out of the freezer then put them back in again when I realized we were out of cheddar cheese. I don’t think I’ve been shopping wisely, lately…

The Little Witness isn’t speaking to the old cat. Mum asked why, and I said it’s because he was over there talking to her last night, and she sneezed in his face. Mum laughed heartily, but I don’t think he will forget in a hurry. Old cat was sleeping till I mentioned her name. She lifted her head and blinked blearily at me, as though to say, “What what?” I don’t think she understands that sneezing all over people isn’t quite the thing. Tonight she abruptly rose out of her sleep and sneezed when I was having supper.

It was raining heavily when we went to bed, but I didn’t realize that till I was closing the curtains in my room. It poured down the windows and gleamed on the black tarmac in the lamplight. I love heavy rain, especially at night, but if I’m going somewhere I don’t want to go, heavy rain is a lot less welcome. Fortunately that’s not the case right now.

Mum knows when it’s raining because she can hear it even with the curtains closed, but I never know till I look outside and see it. I usually feel surprised, happy and disgruntled, as though I missed the start of a film I like that I didn’t know was going to be on. I even feel annoyed with Mum for not telling me, though I know that’s ridiculous.

I stopped using so many exclamation marks because of Mineral grumbling about them when we were at university. I never got over it, and now I have Exclamation Mark Phobia. Sometimes I think it makes my writing a bit hard or morose when I don’t mean it that way. He has a lot to answer for.

Time to sleep now.

Love, Delilah xxx

Posted in Life and Family, My Cats, Teddy Bears

The Little Witness Has a Bad Night

The trouble with the Little Witness is that everyone believes in him. I know that isn’t a bad thing when it comes to witnesses, but I really meant ‘believe in’ rather than ‘believe’, like you might ‘believe in’ ghosts. You don’t have to believe every word that issues through a ghost’s pale lips, or the Little Witness’s either, though he’s a decent soul who would only tell the kind of lies that spare people’s feelings, such as “Delilah, you look as fresh as a daisy in that face covering.”

The thing is, you can’t help believing there’s really somebody there and he’s not just a fake stuffed pig staring blankly at the ceiling. It’s not just me… everybody talks to him, and not just humans. All our cats hug him or stare into his eyes and, if nervous or in a bad mood, might hiss, fluff up, and give him a slap upside the head. My mother’s ancient cat loves him. She loves teddy bears of all descriptions anyway, including a massive ‘wolf’ we had for a while, but whenever she sees the Little Witness, she smiles and purrs, and jumps up to give him a smeary kiss on his nose.

Most of the time he’s a calming influence to everybody whether human or feline, but tonight he had a traumatic experience with a bluebottle. It came and sat on his head and wouldn’t fly away. I’m not sure I can blame it, but it thoroughly spooked him. Mum came and killed the fly because I wouldn’t, then at bedtime gave him a polar bear she had got from somewhere. She didn’t want to retire to her slumbers thinking he was upset with her.

There are plenty of things in the world to stress over and get upset about but we have made ourselves a little extra one.

Posted in Christmas and New Year, Life and Family, My Cats, Notepad Conversations

Feeling Our Oats in Partial Lockdown

My iPad takes me straight to the last email I received from the family friend who died. It’s not my most recent email, but the iPad is old and glitchy and jumps to old emails halfway down the list. There’s nothing unusual about the email itself, but it makes me sad every time. I keep thinking she’s still out there and we will see her soon.

I was on a chat thread to my sister and mother this evening:

Me: “I feel like having a peaceful Christmas rather than a frantic one.”

Mum: “Are we having one?”

Sister: “Did we have one last year?”

Mum: “Yes”

Me: “Of course. I went mad cleaning and putting plastic hooks on the bannisters. Each one demanded to be pressed on for a minute before moving on, then we had to leave them a while before hanging the lights. Then on Christmas Day I could barely keep my eyes open.”

Mum: “At least they are mostly still there”

Sister: “I think the idea is not to do everything last minute. Ha.”

Me: “Are you writing your letter to Santa now, then?”

Sister: “Still summer.”

Mum: “Give Santa time to write back and say sorry out of stock”

Sister: “Maybe we will all be locked down”

Mum: “Glasgow now”

Sister: “Yes”

Mum: “Goodnight.”


I suppose there won’t be crowds in rainy streets to contend with this Christmas, lockdown or no.

Was thinking how I had thoughts and reactions to each bit of the chat but voiced none of them. “I remember watching various things on Christmas Day — there was a Finding Nemo sequel that I thought was awful, though I loved the octopus. There was an animation about a snail and a whale who went on a trip together — I loved it but Mum was bored by it. I ordered things from China in December and they didn’t arrive till early January — a frog brooch, a nightie with a tropical design, gold organza gift bags (for the frog brooch) and an unusually pretty blue scarf. And whadya mean the hooks are mostly still there? I thought they were all still there! Don’t tell me some dropped off? Still summer? Not here… it’s dark, cold and rainy. The autumn winds are blowing and I’m thinking about Halloween. Hey, that’s funny — even Santa will have trouble sourcing goods. He’ll go through the catalogues and everything will be greyed out like on the supermarket website.”

We order food from the supermarket and my sister collects it, but last time when I was looking through our favourite items, a large number were out of stock. Scott’s Porage Oats; Green Giant tinned sweetcorn; shredded duck pancakes; croissants; Tiramasu dessert; cream-filled doughnuts; Tunnock’s caramel wafers; Mum’s favourite bottled water; the better varieties of tinned fruit. I messaged my sister and said, “There isn’t another rush on supplies, is there??”

“Not that I’m aware of,” she replied.

There better not be. Some of those are near impossible to get anyway, but I got worried at the oats and water disappearing. Perhaps people are starting to stock up for Christmas… certainly can’t do this at the last minute this year. My sister found the oats somewhere else, though, so all is fine. It’s just that supermarket that had sold out.

It wouldn’t surprise me if we were the ones buying most of it! Mum has porridge every morning, and it has to be Scott’s Porage Oats. I bought different ones once and she wouldn’t finish them… I had to.

A cat deprived us of our supper last night. It was macaroni cheese and he licked it when we weren’t looking. He didn’t even eat it up, snip snap — Mum said we wouldn’t have known if she hadn’t seen him do it! Tonight we had ham hock gratin, which I covered with an upturned dish. The cat used to think our food was awful and wouldn’t touch broiled fish or roasted chicken, but his taste buds have matured with the years. Next he’ll be helping himself to Mum’s Scott’s Porage Oats. Though perhaps that’s why we get through it so quickly…

Time to sleep.

Posted in Life and Family, My Cats

Everybody’s Having a Snow Party

Here in the UK and Ireland we’ve been hosting the Beast from the East and Storm Emma, who were in the mood to party together. In Scotland we had the joys of a ‘red alert’ — apparently the first time we’ve had one. I took a few photos outside and figured out how to use the video option in my camera (nothing special resulted), then wished our snowy guests would leave again… am tired already.

Trying to blog with a cat squirming in your arms is not easy. 😛

Yesterday I lifted my toilet bag from the bathroom window sill and it felt cold. The toothpaste inside also felt cold and was stiff to squeeze out… I think it half-froze! This morning the toothpaste was more relaxed, although people are still not allowed to go anywhere. A local warned on Facebook that roads are closed, buses aren’t running, his car was sliding all over the place on a narrow road, and snow ploughs and tractors needed to be rescued… if *they* were in trouble, what chance has a car?

An old friend who lives locally contacted me via Messenger and said was everybody keeping warm? I said yes, though we heard from a neighbour that the shops were running short. He (the friend on Messenger) said he got the last lot of milk, bread and bacon from his local shop. I said we have fruity flapjack cookies with coconut in (I’m so glad I bowed to temptation when I saw these in M&S!) If he went back to the shop, he said, and raided it for oats, he could make his own flapjacks. I said he won’t be able to if the local old ladies buy all the oats before he gets there. “Then I’ll just mug them,” he said.

Our front steps are covered over almost completely with snow drifts; you can barely see the edges peeping out. I opened the back door at one point to find a set of dog pawprints leading up to the cat flap. Today they are all over the place… scuttling through the hedge and crisscrossing the snow. People let their dogs off the leash around here (though they’re not meant to) and they run into people’s gardens. My sister’s seen dogs let off in the path behind the house who run up the length of the garden and dash out onto the road at the front, with the owners obliviously calling them on the nice safe path behind. One particularly bad-tempered canine attacked my mother’s old cat — my sister intervened and nearly got bitten. The cat (who had been picked up and shaken) was very shocked and had to go to the vet. I remember the blind look in her eyes that day, but she’s still with us and doesn’t seem to remember.

The ‘off the leash’ thing might explain stories of dogs and their owners ending up in icy lakes. Someone was writing about how drivers forget to change their driving techniques in icy weather… they go too fast; drive too close to the car in front, etc… it strikes me that that warning also applies to other things we do, whether it’s getting our stocks right or walking dogs.

I understand it’s difficult when we do things by habit… we can be knee-deep in trouble before we wake out of auto-pilot.

I was thinking to myself that I wished we had more milk and bread. I noted that we’d gone onto freezer rations — tins next! We still have vegetables and potatoes; biscuits and sweets (including my special hoard of Bassett’s mint creams and chocolate peanuts); a very little fruit; rice and pasta in the cupboard; one small loaf of bread in the freezer (the kind Mum likes but I hate)… I knew we would hold out for months and there’s no need to complain, but I still wished the fridge contained more in the way of fresh groceries. I can’t even make simple things like scrambled egg or macaroni cheese, as we are hoarding what’s left of the milk.

My sister can’t come out because she’s snowed up in her little village. It would be a long icy tramp for me to the local supermarket, though I would do it if it was really worth it. There are no little shops at the end of the block here… one of the not-so-good things about this particular location.

No need to worry, though… Man Mountain to the rescue! He appeared yesterday with milk, bread, and jam doughnuts, and surprised us again today with two bags of food. It was very kind. He said shops are running low in things like milk because the lorries aren’t getting through. The milk he brought today is long-life.

I still mustn’t make dishes that need milk… there are other things we can eat instead. (Eyes the pizzas and and sausage rolls hungrily).

Another neighbour rang up and said he and his wife are making the long walk out to the supermarket and did we need anything, and my mother said “thanks, but we’re okay!”

A friend in Yorkshire says the wind is still whipping up the snow into blizzards. They’re sitting tight and not risking their safety; the only thing they’ll run out of is salad, but they’ll survive without it for a bit.

Now the cat is squirming in my mother’s arms, but that’s fine by me… easier to blog! …D’oh… spoke too soon! This cat (Delilah) is the definition of the phrase ‘in your face’. She lies on your chest and watches your eyes. I escaped by going outside to change a litter tray, and cleaned it with balls of dry snow. Gosh, this stuff has its uses… it saves on kitchen paper.

The following piece seems to be going the rounds on Facebook: “Where are we going, Piglet?”

I don’t go on Facebook much, so don’t pay attention to me if I sound blase! It’s pure gammon. My sister posted me the link and said she visualized Pooh as me and Piglet as The Little Witness. The Little Witness was currently squatting on a box of chocolate-covered peppermint creams, so that doesn’t surprise me.

We don’t have the stocks of red wine referred to in the Pooh conversation, but we have plenty of cat litter, Man Mountain brought the pizzas, and there’s a little bottle of Dandelion and Burdock in the fridge.

It’s odd how differently you view your food stocks when you are snowed in. It goes from “I suppose I should drink it,” to “I’m so glad to see that there!” and “I wish I hadn’t thrown away the year-out-of-date tin of Carnation Milk.”

Ah… a blob of white just flashed past the window.

“Did you see snow drop off the roof?”


Hopefully this freeze party is ending.

Posted in Health Issues, Life and Family, My Cats

Sweet Power

A neighbour who is also an electrician came in today to talk about power sockets. He is the tallest man I’ve ever seen… Man Mountain. I don’t mean he is overweight, because he certainly isn’t. It’s amusing to see the cats’ reaction when he’s visiting! Their eyes get very big and round, their bellies drop to the floor, and they don’t want to be in the same house with him.

He’s a pleasant fellow, but my anxiety makes me feel trapped if people are standing between me and the door. That’s multiplied when it’s someone as tall as him, so I can laugh at the cats all I want… I’m really no better!

Perhaps the universe is playing a trick on us and sniggers up its sleeve when you think, “I don’t know why I get so nervous!” and all the time it’s just that you were a cat in a former life. Nobody could possibly know that except the universe itself.

My sister brought us odds and ends (milk and other groceries we asked for) and also turned up with a large apple pie. Said we could share it, and cut it herself in the kitchen (turning it into apple crumble in the process). She wasn’t staying long, and took off out the door again with her share.

I know she was looking at desserts anyway to tempt my mother’s appetite, but I think it’s cute when somebody can’t resist something — hard to explain. I have a couple of bags of my favourite sweets squirrelled away in my room but haven’t touched them… just feel happy knowing they are there in case of need. Chocolate peanuts and Bassett’s Mint Creams, in case you wondered!

I need a cleaning agent to whiten some grouting in the kitchen. Asked everybody I could think of (other than Man Mountain) what would work. My mother was trying to tell me, and I said unfortunately my battery had just gone phut and she’d need to write it down. We didn’t have a pen and pad to hand, so she traced letters on the kitchen worktop with her finger: the name of a shop in town. Should see if they have something suitable.

I was amazed I could read what she wrote when it was invisible writing!

A few days ago, I had a strange not-quite-headache. All my energy vanished in a puff of smoke and I couldn’t even get up the strength to sleep. I had a persistent cough that got worse and worse, and my mother pointed out that it started when somebody gave her daffodils. My lurgi did have that kind of vibe… could have been an early spring allergy.

Once I start coughing it takes absolute ages to go away, so I was dismayed… then remembered a friend dissolving a dessertspoonful of honey in a mug of boiled water. He said his mother gave him that whenever he had a cold. I tried it again for the first time in years, and it’s really comforting. My cough is nearly gone. The honey’s nearly gone too, sadly…

Posted in Life and Family, Lost in Thought, My Cats

Cats, Goblins and the Mysteries of Thought

There’s a print of a goblin on my wall, and I’m still a little mystified. My mother came home with it one time, and that’s all I know. I spotted similar prints at the town library, so it must be connected with that — it’s from The Spiderwick Chronicles.

I read a snatch of something somewhere… ‘scientists still don’t understand how the brain thinks’. Well, I had an odd thought just yesterday. I was playing the game Northern Tale for the umpteenth time… there are many levels and you get to know them quite well, though you don’t always win at expert grade without repeating some of them a few times. To start with, you click ‘play’, look carefully at the layout of the level, and think to yourself, “Oh yes, it’s *that* one.”

A couple of times I didn’t recognize one right away, and thought “which *is* it??” and studied it for a while, then suddenly… “Oh yes… THAT one!” and everything shifts in my mind as though I’ve found the general slant and form of the level, which now falls into place.

It’s quite a complex idea, if you think about it. I would be hard-pushed to explain exactly what data goes into my perception of that level as a recognizable entity. There are no words to describe it.

I wonder if we make life too complicated for ourselves. We live such short lives we end up sitting back, thinking “hold on… I never got round to even a fraction of the things I meant to do!”

Part of the trouble comes down to our energy levels. We berate ourselves for not acting more like well-oiled machines every day and doing all the things we meant to do. Sometimes we need to rest and take time to rethink our priorities and strategy. Sometimes there really isn’t a lot of point in a goal. We probably aren’t living lives the way we should but have been brought up to think it’s normal to live lives like these… all the games we could play or films we could watch or places we could visit or people we could get to know or crafts we could learn — or languages to speak, or books to read, or dishes to cook, or objects we can collect… well, maybe we can do a little of some of these things. They don’t have to be constants in our lives unless there’s a genuine need.

There’s a reason why we fall into ruts, routine, habits… it’s less confusing; less tiring. When we have a need for a new game to play or a new thing to learn, we will reach out, but otherwise we just bump along doing what we are used to. Perhaps, for some of us, that includes blogging!

I don’t want to get in such a rut that I won’t try something new once in a while — perhaps ennui is our guard against getting stuck in the mud.

Why do I have a goblin on my wall? Two other pictures in the room are of cats. They aren’t dissimilar creatures, come to think of it. I was constantly chasing the wee red one today because she was determined to be part of our coffee party when some friends visited. I must have carried her out again about five times.

Meanwhile, my mother’s cat clung to her knee, which was fine… you think of them as almost the same person, and it wouldn’t cross your mind to put her out of the room while there are visitors. After they’d gone, though, she was determined to sit on her at a moment she wasn’t welcome. We kept trying to dissuade her, but she was absolutely determined to cross that table and hop on.

I said “cats don’t understand the meaning of ‘NO’, do they?” and my mother said “they PRETEND they don’t understand.”

The cat tried again to cross the table… “NO!!” Mum said, absolutely clearly, and the cat hesitated and sat back. Well, she knows what ‘no’ means. She just hopes you will forget about it in a minute, when your mind has wandered off and she can sneak over without anybody even noticing.

I’m not sure that goblins would even care… they’d just leap on you and pull your hair, and the more you shouted ‘no’ at them, the more they would grin. Actually, not so different, really!

Got to make some leek and potato soup now. It’s not my favourite, but my sister bought two enormous leeks that I have to use up somehow! Zzz.

Posted in Health Issues, Life and Family, My Cats

A Gold Toothless and Other Ramblings

There’s a touch of blogger’s block going on here.

A couple of days ago a friend happened to mention it’s a good trick to write for yourself only, not for any particular audience, and to avoid editing as you write.

Today I’ll just write and see what happens.

Yesterday my sister replaced the broken old cat flap. When I checked it out, My boy cat (blog name Samson) sat bolt upright, ears straight up, staring brightly at me, one eye slowly closing in a quizzical wink. It looked like he was saying, “Well? What do you think?”

You would think he had bought and fitted it himself. And I was reminded of someone. Every so often I’ll look at him and be bothered by the feeling he’s like a character on TV, but I can never remember who. Eventually it hits me… it’s Toothless. Never anybody else. Just Toothless.

I don’t have Toothless in mind already and say “Toothless is like Samson”… I don’t do that. I can never remember who I’m being reminded of, but the resemblance… something in the expression and posture… is strong.

Although mostly silent, Samson seems to be communicating with every fibre of his being. He’ll sit and stare intently at you, and the minute you turn and catch his eye, he leans forward and his face is absolutely radiant.

Nothing cheers you up quicker. 🙂

My mother is unwell; eating very little these days. For supper last night she had three breaded scampi and an onion ring. Today she managed a poached egg on toast. When I brought a plate of food the other night, she courageously drew herself up to meet it. I said she looked like a contestant on I’m a Celebrity, about to eat something with sixteen legs.

Christmas will be a puzzle this year, as I’ve not been getting out to shop. I feel there’s not much time left online either. Still… As the citizens of Whoville found out in The Grinch, Christmas is Christmas all on its own. We still have our trappings… a six-foot silver tree, lights and decorations. The cats with their 3D superstar impressions. Sisterly visits. There will be turkey, roast potatoes and bread sauce on the day.

I’ve been avoiding Facebook for most of the year, but decided there would be no harm in checking in with people over Christmas. Was surprised to find some really lovely comments about one of my cats… two pages of them! Perhaps my friend is right when she said you can make Facebook work for you. Check your privacy settings. Choose who you want to interact with, and write about those things that are tongue-in-cheek and fun. Don’t get all serious, angry or political. If you’re not enjoying somebody’s statuses, quietly unfollow them.

Well, perhaps. It still feels to me like we’re shark-bait.

It’s nice to get away from the internet from time to time. Talking of which, I have a lot of DVDs and am in the mood to watch some. I don’t often get the chance to, but when I can, there are old favourites I have in mind.

How to Train Your Dragon
Horton Hears a Who
How the Grinch Stole Christmas
The Young Montalbano
Master and Commander
The Croods

Those will be a good start.

*This was just an attempt to kick-start my failing blogging habit. Normal service will be resumed shortly.*

Posted in Lost in Thought, My Cats, Weekend Coffee Share

Coffee in the Rain

If we were having coffee, we would be a bit quiet — the heavy weather has been sending everybody to sleep. In some way I’ve regressed — it’s as though I’ve slipped and fallen into last autumn, even though it’s supposed to be summer. It keeps raining, day after day and week after week. There’s flooding again, and the drains in the centre of town overfilled and spilled in puddles. It’s dark, so my thoughts regressed to a cooler, quieter time. Just coffee and a dull room — and now you.

You weren’t here last year. My blog was quiet for a long time. Months and years of rain in this forgotten space.

There’s been more energy in our lives, lately. Perhaps it was the sun? I was busy sorting books, and our collection is manageable now… nearly!… but today, all of a sudden, I left them and walked away.

Sitting over there with your mug, I understood you were wondering about my reserve, so I told you my weekend started early because I was tired. You laughed and said everybody’s tired because of the atmospheric pressure. Well I’m glad it’s not just me. I was so busy, then suddenly… How about you? Did you do nothing? Perhaps you half-heartedly tried to run a meeting on Friday, only members were not-so secretly snoring?

This is why I plunged back to the end of last year, to a time when I was less motivated.

A few days ago I told people, “I hope it doesn’t rain from now all the way through autumn like last year,” thinking, “surely it won’t!” … but I have a terrible feeling it will. I will be getting stern reports about moss on the roof again. For goodness sake, it’s a wet country. Might be nice to have a moss garden up there, with fairy cottages, fern trees and toadstools.

How about you — do you like gardening, or miniatures, or both in combination? On Pinterest I follow pin-boards showing the fairy houses and cabins that people build in the great outdoors. I don’t have any such property in my possession — I just like to view them.

It’s a secret place of mine… in my head I have a log cabin of my own where no one can ever find me — not unless I want them to. In my forest, I disappear into the rain, moss and silence, so you would think this weather would suit me down to the ground.


It does suit my boy cat, who loves sloshing around. The other night he bounded merrily in through the flap, dripping in mud — the creature from the black lagoon. It’s easy to imagine him preying on the squirrels around my imaginary cabin, so I don’t suppose I could hide from him even if I wanted to. I’d turn around and there he would be, grinning in through the window — “how about a wee nibble, hmm? Something nice and filling.”

I know you are still tired, and my blethering has put you to sleep, so it’s time for me to let you go. Come back for coffee again some time — maybe the rain will have stopped by then.

Posted in My Cats, Photographs

Weekly Photo Challenge: Unfocused

Oops, this is an old photo challenge, but I have gone to some trouble preparing the photo for publishing, so I’m posting it anyway.

We were out this morning, and when I came in the front door and saw the way my two cats were sleepily regarding me, I took photos, trying to capture their mood. Unfortunately the girl cat (Delilah) first of all just put her head down and closed her eyes, and didn’t look at the camera the way she had looked at me… then she sat up and did a very sweet green-eyed yawn, and at that precise moment my camera decided it had run out of card-space!!!!

That sort of thing is enough to throw you into a screaming tantrum.

I behaved myself though, and fetched another camera card… by that time Delilah had hopped off and left through the cat flap. Thank goodness for Samson, who stayed in bed, occasionally blinking at me, though with not quite the roguish grin that he had before.

I tried to focus sharply on him (dark room and ageing eyesight), and sometimes managed; other times it was way off, like here… I would have deleted this picture without a second thought, but I suddenly remembered the photo challenge.

Well, I thought, if I have to post a fuzzy photo, it might as well be this one! I made it even softer in Photoshop, mostly round the edges. Will have to look and see what other challenges I can respond to… my camera has been a bit covered in cobwebs recently.

My red cat Samson, woken up from his sleep.