This Is My Life: Shopping & Animals (and books)

 

First thing in the morning I let Cleo out for morning pees and poos. Delighted to say that it is more than 50 hours since she has performed either of those actions indoors. The Kong obsession has not been entirely helpful as her desire to collect it in the morning has often led to a big piss on the kitchen floor. Every day is a learning day (for both of us) and I have learned to pitch the Kong out the bedroom window so she just cannot wait to get outside to fetch it.

The picture above is post morning evacuations and back to bed with coffee, Kong and Woody the kitten. Woody has breakfasted, no need for outside as he is still a litter tray user. I have my coffee and my books, not easy to manage with a largish kitten sitting on my throat. Cleo has her Kong and all is right with her world. This morning's books are something about Hurricane Katrina and euthanasia which depite being ploughed through for months, the name escapes me at the moment. The other two books are Wally Lamb's This Much I Know (excellent) and Margaret Atwood's Cat's Eye (even more excellent).

Woody has removed himself from my throat and is amusing himself playing with Cleo's tail. It will soon be time to get up as I am taking Jazzer to the shops. Asda to be exact. She is post-surgery for a shoulder injury and I am helping her out just as she helped me out when I injured my hip last year.

I have a perfunctory wash for which I am not ashamed as I showered yesterday and I dress myself in Snag tights, raspberry coloured, Nordic socks, shades of raspberry, Blundstone boots, a polka dot denim Toast skirt, a grey M&S long-sleeved vest, a burgundy coloured jumper and a pink hand-knitted (by Ganching) scarf. My outer garment being a black M&S burberry. I am, in my own opinion, looking well for 70 years old.

On the way to Antrim - I'm travelling slow as the roads might be icy, I notice strange clouds in the sky. They are disk shaped, one on top of the other. I make a note to myself to Google them later.

To Jazzer, still in pyjamas, but despite her shoulder difficulties she is soon ready. All I had to do to help her was adjust her surgical support sling. Last week I had to fasten her bra so - progress. We leave the house, breakfast at Alfies's, collect supplies at the pet shop and peruse the charity shops. I buy nothing, Jazzer buys pyjamas. A theme going on? At our house we call pyjamas drinking trousers - someone call AA.

On to Asda. Asda, once Antrim's flagship grocery shopping destination has become hugely disappointing. OK - so I picked up an incredibly cheap and fleecy duvet set that will replace the one that Cleo ate, but that does not make up for one, just one till being open while we, the actual customers were expected to check out our own shopping whilst being overseen by the grumpiest shop assistant in the world. Honestly Asda, I'm not coming back anytime soon. Also, the Kenco coffee was overpriced although to be fair the cheap and cheerful Spanish Rioja I just took my last swallow of, wasn't bad at all.

After having deposited Jazzer and her groceries I headed home whilst listening to an incredibly interesting programme on Radio 4 about bacteria. I felt vindicated having had just the perfunctory wash as apparently bacteria ain't all bad. I am also encouraged to wear my clothes for longer between washes. But, that said, it seems it is still a very good idea to wash one's hands regularly and thoroughly.

Home again, and in a good mood, having had a brisk 20 minute walk through Ballee Cemetery. It is very cheering to pass the graves of one's former neighbours and work colleagues knowing that one is still here. Bert was also in a good mood having chopped down a disease-stricken ash tree that was annoying a horse chestnut and that will keep us warm for at least a month.

Then that bloody internet. Far too easy to go shopping there. That bloody Rioja too. I bought another pair of Blundstone boots. Still haven't figured out those clouds. Lenticular? Where are the mountains? The Mournes are miles away. Belfast hills?

Freezing

 

Despite Hannah's dire warning, we ventured out today. Bert drove and all went well until, outside our favourite breakfast cafe, the van got stuck in the icy car park. We were helped by a small Englishman and his partner who steered us out while the rest of us pushed. I was so grateful that I nearly wished England were still in the World Cup tournament.

After that small adventure, we went to a nearby fishing supplies shop to search for some Tasmanian boots. Sadly, their stock was low and my size was not available. It was an interesting shop though. I never knew that fisherfolk needed so much stuff. They have special everything. 

I was supposed to go to the bank to cancel a direct debit but it was cold and I had a longing for my wood-burning stove so went home instead. I have changed my phone contract and I know that more savvy people than I can do their banking from the comfort of their own warm fires but somehow i can't get the hang of it. Maybe it's because my phone hasn't enough memory. I have bought some memory and now I have to work out how to get it onto the phone.

Bert didn't have music last night so we thought we'd watch an episode or two of Motherland but then the TV started playing up and that was after me getting new superfast broadband. I'm wondering now if we need a new firestick or a new television. Everything is about technology nowadays. Les called round with very fancy marshmallows and instead of an insert telling one what flavour they were we were expected to use a QR scanner to connect us to the company website. Bert thought he could do it with his phone because it's a Smart Phone duh! He had no luck with that not having installed the app. Luckily I had it because I needed it to scan something for the Van Gogh immersive experience I'm (supposed to be) going to in January.

Well, we had marshmallows with our tea and I went to bed with this laptop. A friend contacted me on Facebook to ask me about a mutual acquaintance. Next thing she's calling me. I didn't know Facebook could do that. I pressed the appropriate key and there is a picture of her favourite cat and her voice filling the room. So there I am, in bed, laptop in front of me and Vinny talking to me just as if she was sitting at the end of my bed. The news wasn't good. The fellow she was telling me about had died. He had been a friend of her late husband and was the brother of two of our friends. As a Mr Heffron once remarked to me (at another funeral, of course)

They're taking them out of our pen now.

All over social media, friends and family have been taking photos of the winter wonderland outside. Not I. It's too cold. Instead, I offer up a picture of my fridge, c. 2005. Maybe you're on there. In your younger days.