round these sides too this week. I have been dry as dust for the last two days and have probably saved about a fiver that I am going to send off to “our” national debt as DavCam has it.
Unfortunately, the health benefits of this regime remain to be seen. I am not springing out of bed ready to greet the new day with bright eyes and bushy tail, I am just groaning and wondering why I drank so much and stayed up so late. That’s before I remember I didn’t touch a drop and went to bed whilst the fat farmyard cat was reading the depressing daily news @ ten.
The neighbours can’t see the benefits either. One greeted me just now. She said:
Have you been clubbing all night then?
Thanks for that. I’ll have to stock up.
In my dream land I am upgrading the “family” car to this for continental touring purposes.
In my real life the only upgrade I can afford is this one.
I asked Bibi for a quote: she said she preferred the Greengrocer’s box.
A stereotypical ingrate. I feel like I work for that cat and I can tell you she is a demanding boss.
“The Rum Tum Tugger is a terrible bore:
When you let him in, then he wants to be out;
He’s always on the wrong side of every door,
And as soon as he’s at home, then he’d like to get about.”
from the Rum Tum Tugger, Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats by T.S. Eliot – a book I find very familiar and comforting particularly as it demonstrates that Tom must have had a lighter view of life on occasion.
The only “control” I can boast over Bibi Snowball, the cat who deigns to board with us, is whether I choose or no to let her in, or indeed out. In both cases she is very much like the Rum Tum Tugger, but she can throw in an extra special pleading look for coming in that is very reminiscent of Puss in Shrek.