Talk to the paw
I just love this picture. It's too late for the 2024 Ginger Ninja calendar which is ready to go to the printer this week, but it may have to replace the current header (sorry Judy) which has been in place for quite a while now, and then be included in 2025's calendar if I do one.
So if you are keen to have pictures of MasterB, the incomparable cat with whom I share my life and this blog, to accompany you throughout 2024 let me know pronto. The print run is small, a handful of aficionados, and the cost which has been around £8.50 plus p&p if required, I suspect will increase though hopefully not by much. I aim to cover my costs, not make a living from the calendar.
I managed successfully to clear his poo from the litter tray and dispose of it without mishap. Phew. So far since my op this task has been performed by someone else, but today he performed his evacuations while we were alone. A small triumph on my part but one which feels significant. I enjoy my own company and am happy to spend time alone, so it's quite a change to have so many visitors, eat meals in company, chat. There's a certain irony that, despite being confined to the flat and able to do little for myself, I am now probably more tuned in with what is happening with friends and neighbours and across the community than usual. MasterB's enjoyment of our increased social life is tempered by the fact that no one will let him go outside however vocally he explains it is vital he is allowed to do so.
Tonight a DIY job, long delayed, will be performed by Jimmy who is on supper duty. Ratatouille, rice and tender stem broccoli, since you ask. The toilet seat, which has an unnerving habit of sliding sideways, will be replaced. Not before time. I'm down to the last hundred pages of American Wife by Curtis Sittenfeld. I've enjoyed it very much, though as usual I am bewildered by the terminology of US universities, the reunion weekends, the animal mascots. There must be a history somewhere of how these things began and developed. Until I have understood, these references leave me in a haze of incomprehension. I'd not heard of Sittenfeld before picking up this book. I picked it up at the library due to its size. Over six hundred pages seemed a good length read for the start of my sofa marathon. It was the Kate Atkinson comment on the front cover saying it was her favourite book of the year, the year being presumably more than a decade ago when it was first published, which made me decide to borrow it. I have a mouth watering stack of books to choose from when I finish this one, plus the gossipy memoir by Rupert Everett to finish. What chance my tax return?
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