Obfuscate
My goodness, I am tired at the moment. I blame January. Just something about the word makes me feel that way. It is a month of dark days, wind, rain and expense. Get up in the dark, come home in the dark - and not much lighter in between.
This time last year Nick and I were excited about organising the church for our wedding. It feels like such a long time ago that we were there, fingers crossed, me patting people's hands and exclaiming 'Oh how lovely!' at everyone. Now when we go, we just stroll in like it is all normal. Many people have asked if we have had the period of 'downtime' since. That feeling of anti-climax. I haven't, I expected to, but haven't. I like being married, we have a lot to look forward to, lots to come in our lives.
There have not been many cat stories here for a while, I know some will complain that cat stories are cliche on a blog but I am not after any prizes - so who cares? Ashley likes to wake me up in the mornings, sometimes for cuddles, sometimes for food. Sometimes at 6am sometimes at 2. It does not always make him the most popular of cats in our household. Freddie will lie contentendly at the foot of the bed or on the chest of drawers until we get up, but young Ash is an impetuous soul. His usual tricks are to pat me, scratch my toes, attack the bedpost, or sometimes knock things off the bedside table. One of these will usually see me jumping out of bed, cursing before conceding to the box of cat food. This time however, I was practicing the 'controlled crying' technique and let him do it, detirmined to win. After failing with his usual tricks he placed himself next to the bed where I could see him, mewing and purring until I opened my tired eyes. We were there eye to eye in the early hours of the morning and I felt something connect between us. He looked to his right and then back to me again and I could see the thoughts going around his pink, sparkly head. I knew instantly what he was planning. He gave me one last mew of warning, one last chance to do as I was told, and then turned and sunk his teeth firmly into my wedding dress hanging in its bag on the cupboard door. Obviously, he won again. I flew out of bed cursing as usual as he ran to the kitchen, sensing victory. Sometimes I don't think we credit animals with enough intelligence. He knew exactly what he was doing, and now knows he will get me out of bed every time. He has been smugly wiggling his little cat bottom around the flat ever since. I will have to think hard on how to get revenge for this one.
(Thankfully no wedding dresses were harmed in the making of this anecdote- the protective bag did its job most impressively)