Chipmunks , figuratively speaking .....

Wake in a dustbowl at five am , my mouth full of seeds and bird feathers and all manner of hot dry things .
Spitting out and rinsing and swilling as they used to advocate at the dentist ( I say used to , when I went private . Now I'm an NHS patient there is no time for such niceties and one is left with the dross until its all over . Mind you what's a bit of grit and old tooth decay in the mouth for ten extra minutes as compared to taking out a fresh mortgage every time one needs treatment ? ) reveals a single cat hair and the usual ( for this week anyway ) banging head .

I take pills , settle myself upright and try to relax .

The head is full of red squirrels and as finally I reach inside , figuratively speaking , to attempt to lift one of two of them out and set them free to scamper off down the bird feeders strategically placed for Toby's entertainment via the front window , it comes to me that these are not squirrels but chipmunks .
A squirrel is indeed a scampering creature , husbanding its resources , looking from side to side , and has no interest in my torture . Chipmunks however are fast moving , and would not be averse to banging against the edges of my skull in passing , as they swapped places , climbed bars and dropped to the floor with a sickening thud from time to time . They would not stop to rest , to look around them , to pose for photographs like those squirrels of our caravanning days when Nat and me at six am would watch them as the sun rose .

My mind struggles valiantly to escape the inner beasties hammering away , and takes me on a peaceful tour of those days . In my head I collect the wherewithal I would have needed to take with me to the shower blocks , my bath towel , my hair towel ( super absorbant ) , my shampoo , the conditioner , a hair brush , a shower gel ; finally my mobile phone connecting me to the outside world at home via texts . I walk across the little winding paths through the tall pine trees , past the slow hopping wild rabbits from the woods , sometimes spotting a deer and her fawn , occasionally another early riser trying to catch the first shower of the day before the eight am onslaught . The rhododendrons in full bloom , or the honeysuckle , maybe the primroses in the little glades used as dens by the older kids .

I walk back now from my shower , clean , fresh , ready to grind and brew coffee .

The pain killer is starting to take effect . Alice , the early rising greyhound has slept in , and if I pull my pillow flat I can probably get in another half hour sleep before she tells me she needs to go out . Failing that D has probably seen me taking the pills and will more than likely offer to go down .
Another day .

cream of tartar

Having spent most of yesterday migraining it between bathroom and bed ( though mostly in bed, and squeezed between three purring Birmans and one surprisingly unratty Kitty ), I am not at my best today , though I drag myself out at nine when Alice will wait no longer for her morning constitutional ( though to be fair D did offer to go it alone , and having spotted me on the edge of the bed at five am swallowing pills he did do the early shifts too , the first yard duty then breakfast half an hour later , with brief spells back in bed ).

The waves are high and the snow is less today , and the wind has dropped . Altogether it is pleasanter , but I am easing my way back into Life as we know it .

I sit staring at my laptop , sipping ginger tea and thinking my thought as he revs up to his usual pace and plots his next Action .
The Shops .
What will we be eating tonight ? I try to calm my stomach and being the sensitive soul that he is , he backs off slightly and tries to ascertain what he needs to know without talking Pork and Chicken in quite such a stark way . I drag myself to the cookery books and with bad grace read out the ingredients we will need for an old Delia recipe .
He is off and I am left to my devices in the armchair for an hour with the Saturday magazines . Bliss .
After an hour , my mobile rings .
The tone is apologetic " Is cream of tartar the same as tartare sauce ? " he asks . " What does it look like ? "

I describe the baking section , the paper tubs etc reminding him that earlier in the week when I had added this to the memo board I had described how he would find it next to the bicarb of soda and the baking powder .....but I fear there has been a memory slippage.

I suggest he asks someone . He tells me he has tried this but will try someone else .

Ten minutes later , a triumphant text appears " Got it " .

It is the modern day equivalent of the dripping stag , freshly killed , or the fat boar , strung on two sticks and carried home at the end of a big day out . And will , as my sister texts my later , when we ponder the subject , be presented with a flourish .

It's no wonder I hate shopping so much . Except when I'm in the mood of course . Then its safer to go on my own . My lack of coherent method , tendency to hoy everything into the bags willy nilly , and occasional giving up the ghost half way round in a fit of ennui just drive him to distraction . To him shopping is a great challenge , something to be achieved in the shortest possible time . To me its just a mild bad dream , something I'm delighted to forget about whilst I flick through the clour supplements .

He's back . Better go and help with the unpacking .

Jess and Pearl

Kitty is back

Of all our cats , Kitty has found adapting to Alice the hardest . She probably has most direct contact with the dog , coming nose to nose through the baby gate at the top of the stairs and refusing steadfastly to back away when the dog bounces up and tries to break through to get at the cat's food supply and their lovely resting places on the beds and in particular on the hot water bed . But its the Birmans who have slowly but surely made their way back down at nights when we are all in and the dog is safely esconsed on the sofa usually flat on her back legs in the air cockroaching , and Kitty has kept out of the way unless to plod down occasionally to remind us we have missed her tea time or some such .

But today , this morning , maybe its the storm ( its snowing as I write ) , here she is , firmly established on D 's desk and ready for the next round of Desk Wars .

Oh Joy .

Big Old Fish

Big old fish on King Edwards Bay . very tricky for Alice to approach . Waves threatening to engulf her . Also the smell , and her nerves to take into account , plus her memories of the baby seal pup CatCalls: Seal pup on the beach , King Edward's Bay Tynemouth and how it snarled at her when she was trying to be friendly that day . Better approach this one a bit more carefully .....

Has it got teeth ?