I tend not to post on here when big things have happened in the world because it seems disrespectful.  I noticed something this morning though.  I spent a good 15 minutes on line trying to find something – anything –  that wasn’t full of sadness, of stunned reactions, of anger.  I acknowledge another bad thing has happened.  I read up on it, I tried to understand it, but ultimately I can make no difference.

So I am going to post today.  Something banal, irrelevant and unimportant…because we have to have some smiles somewhere, don’t we?  Even if it feels like the world is going to pot, there are still good people, good things and good feelings.  And without them, it really is all a bit rubbish.

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Last night I had the excitement of my wardrobe.  After a very full day of work, I spent three hours cleaning it – it was filthy.  Hot water didn’t seem enough, I was warned off using white spirit inside so I resorted to the internet.  I discovered a tip of using 1 part lemon juice, 2 parts olive oil to lift dirt.  You know how the one thing that cats all hate is citrus?  Well apparently Norman didn’t read that memo.  I polished the wardrobe.  He  licked the polish off.  This is all I can think of to explain the chaos that ensued.

Norman and I have an understanding.  He stays in the house until I go to bed.  He then goes off to do his cat man thing.  I don’t know what that is and I don’t ask (It can’t be too much though as he has no cat man bits…).  All I do know is that it’s between 2 and 2.30am when he comes in, stands on me and surveys the bed to identify a Norman spaced area.  Usually this is where most of me is lying so I end up sleeping half the night parallel to my pillows.  Anyway, that didn’t happen last night.  After an hour of dozing I heard him come in doing his naughty walk.  This usually means he has bought something with him which he will then try to hide so I only find out about it a few days later from the smell.  Not this time Norman!  I got up and chased him back outside with whatever he was holding.  10 minutes later he came back in, I chased him….and this carried on for about 40 minutes.  It was made all the more fun for Norman because all my clothes, which should be in the wardrobe, are currently on a rail in the middle of my lounge.  It reminded me of chasing Little Pea round a tree, swapping directions all the time to try to get the upper hand.

Eventually he tired of this game, presumably because it had got him a bit over excited as on his next loud entrance through the cat flap – it was about 1 am at this point – he started throwing up.  Through my bedroom, into the lounge and behind the sofa.  I cleared up and tried to check on him.  He ran under the bed.  I attempted to follow.  It all got a bit silly.  In the end I did a final check to make sure I’d not missed any cat sick, found the mouse that he had managed to hide from me and got back into bed.  At which point Norman rushed out from under my bed and managed to get his entire body stuck in the arm of a bra that was hanging on the bed post.  He was trying to run, but it was like watching a fur ball attempt a horizontal bungee jump.  He ran; he pinged back.  I tried to untangle him, but he tried running again and did the whole pinging back thing again.  I didn’t want to take the bra off the bed post as there was a good chance he’d escape with it on, and that would take a hell of a lot of explaining to the local paper (an underwear wearing cat – a cross dressing one at that – would be right up their street, as long as there was an accompanying picture.)  All I actually wanted to do was get some sleep before the alarm went off.  And yet somehow, eventually, Norman was free and I did get back to bed.  To be woken at 2am while he stood on me, working out exactly which spot on the bed was taken up entirely by me that he would therefore claim as his own.

I won’t lie though.  The image of him wearing my bra is still making me smile, even though I am half asleep.  I hope it brought a teeny smile to your face too :o)