It’s really cold, and there’s no way I can be in the drippy, draughty Shed of Destiny so I’m feeling a bit frustrated about things I have promised to make but that I cannot. It’s thrown me a bit. I’m floating around actually considering doing housework that has been neglected. Whatever next?
Here’s a picture of our cat. We call her…’Cat’, or ‘Pusan’, or ‘Miss Kitty’, ‘Kiki’, or even ‘MingMang’, it just depends on the moment. In the early hours of the night when she comes upstairs very slowly, miaowing on every step until we are properly awake, my husband calls her ‘Poisonous Pu’. He then demands that ‘someone’ makes her shush. I just laugh, fat chance of making a cat shush by force of will. She is 16 years old, we brought her over from sunny South Africa, to freezy Scotland. She has every right to complain.