I say it cautiously, because I know better than to think that it indicates anything, but things seem quite all right today. I slept wonderfully well, and Jasper slept much of the night on my bed, except when he was wandering round the house as cats do, and as he’s very welcome to do. He was very interested in a bookcase at one point, and I had suspected a mouse of living behind it, back in the winter, though traps didn’t catch anything.
I slept right through to quarter past seven, which was such a blessing. I’ve become used to poor sleep over the past few years – many years, in fact, though I had a welcome respite for a while after I had my new hip – and it doesn’t seem to affect me any more, but it must, really. Sleep heals in many ways.
Anyway, Saturday is, whenever possible, my day off. So, having fed and let out the bantams and fed Jasper, I made a pot of Lapsang and some breakfast and took them into the porch – it’s not really a porch, nor a conservatory; my mother-in-law called it the sun lounge but I don’t care for that term, my mother called it the loggia and I don’t like that either, but it hardly matters anyway. I sat having breakfast and reading the paper until 11 o’clock, when I made coffee and read the other paper. And I ate some Twiglets. In fact, I skipped lunch because I ate enough Twiglets to qualify.
It was good, giving myself time. I read a couple of articles that may make themselves into blog posts one day – at one time, they certainly would have, but I’m lazy now – and read about a holiday down the Colorado River that I’m seriously tempted by, and I played with the kitten and Rummy called by, but Jasper was so enjoying the game that he didn’t notice, so Rummy wandered off. I’m sure I’ll get them together, but I don’t read Cat fluently and so am not entirely confident that it is a good idea. I’d know, were they dogs. I must ask Roses.
I’d been looking at the porch windows all week, seeing their grubbiness and I finally got around to cleaning them. Rather, I cleaned the front-facing ones. I haven’t done the ones I don’t look at. Nor have I cleaned the outside. I please myself. I don’t have to do it if I don’t want to. Late in life, I’m coming to know that it’s okay to do what I want. I, that is. I’m so conditioned that it isn’t easy to write that.
I’m not so fond of cleaning windows, actually, but I do like to be able to see out and so, if anyone has done it, it’s always been me. Russell would never have a window cleaner because he … well, how the hell should I know? He said he didn’t want anyone looking through the windows, but actually I think he rather liked grime. Not having a window cleaner didn’t suggest to him that he might ever clean the windows.
After that, I went and dug the noxious weeds out of Edweena’s pen. Docks, nettles and groundsel, mostly, none of which she eats. She was very happy and scooted round afterwards, finding dandelions and plantain that she does like and accepting roses and mallows too. I weeded the greenhouse where I’m going to plant cucumbers and Rose will plant melons. I picked another artichoke, a lettuce and more broad bean tops. I think I’ve eliminated the blackfly and still have a couple of helpings of tops. I planted the squashes.
Not huge strides, but they don’t have to be. Tonight, I shall have an artichoke and Caesar salad and I still seem to have some syllabubs. They have to be eaten, they’re too good to waste, yet I sort of need a break from syllabub. Have I got two left or three? Not long to go.
I hear Jasper scrabbling in his litter tray. I need to go in there with a scoop in a few minutes. Not his fault, I’m not letting him out, so he has no other option, apart from using my carpets and I’m very glad he doesn’t do that.