Next week has turned out to be unexpectedly busy. Wink phoned the hospital where she had her operation and she’s finally got an appointment for her check-up. She’s been expecting a call for the last week or so, because it was left for them to ring her – anyway, no matter, it’s for next Tuesday. And then she phoned her dentist and he can fit her in on Monday. She rang the optician, who has written to her twice to remind of her of her due annual checkup, but they’re not making appointments at all until April. She forbore to enquire why they keep writing, then – anyway, she’ll get her extensive notes from them (she’s got interesting eyesight) and find a new optician here; as she will a dentist after bidding the nice one, she’s been with for years, a fond farewell.
So that takes up Monday, Tuesday and possibly Wednesday. On Thursday, I’ve booked my car for an MOT and service and on Friday I have a dentist’s checkup. This is all possibly the most exciting week I’ve had for a year.
This week, on the other hand is as dull as can be. My training meeting was interesting, but draining. Talking about analysing data is even worse when the meeting is online. Poor Ro had to take a nasal swab from his year-old daughter, whose temperature was slightly raised (as a result of her recent vaccinations), because the nursery insisted on it. Perdita was not happy. He couldn’t even attempt the throat one, poor little girl.
Blue Witch mentioned getting up later than usual – yeah, I find it really difficult to get up before 8.30 at least. Tim gets up when he wakes up, but that’s usually about 8 and I’m generally awake for several hours before drifting into a deep sleep between 7 and half past. So I have no feeling of guilt at all if I linger on in bed, even after waking. Though the cats line up outside and look at me balefully, even if they still have food in their dish in the Dutch barn. Cats like service, that’s all there is to it.
Eloise cat had eaten all her food last night, so there was none to take out and I felt obliged to put a few scrapings from a food pouch to take. I observed Tim noticing, though he politely didn’t mention it. But little Betty Kitten gets pampered a bit, because her brothers push her away from the best food. So I make sure she has a treat and she knows to expect it.
Talking of treats, Polly chicken is getting old and likes to be pampered now. So I spent several minutes with a handful of corn, so that she could eat at her leisure from my hand. I don’t mind, though it’s tedious. I don’t think we’ll have her much longer and she can have all the attention she wants. At least she eats well and is able to fly up to the perch at night.