1. With each cough, his tongue pokes out further. It is almost impossibly cute.
2. A long walk at lunchtime. We bat some ideas around and enjoy the sun streaming into the empty woods.
3. The one person paying attention, the one person amongst the chaos who wants to listen and learn.
1. The car’s display tells us it’s 5.05pm and 5.5°C.
2. He’s had a hard day – first starved overnight then an operation to remove nearly all his remaining teeth. He’s hungry but his mouth hurts too much to eat and he pulls frantically at his gums with his paws, his claws. All I can do is give him a hug and take him to bed. He calms down and curls up next to me. When he awakes, he eats his food and looks at me with happy, shining eyes.
3. Finding the most efficient solution to a supply and demand problem.
Boron has been sat between me and my laptop for about 20 minutes now, letting me kiss him while I type. http://twitpic.com/2yp9vq
Apparently I only use my webcam for pictures of me with the cats.
Me & Carla in March:
Me and Boron in May:
Me and Boron in July:
Me and Carla in July:
Me and Carla in October:
Then today – me and B:
It’s a year today since we moved into our new home. I only started 3BTing a couple of months after the move so only have just a few tweets to mark the day — I think a few hindsight 3BTs are in order ;)
1. It’s strange to see our things, the items that decorate our lives, out of context, packed Tetris-style onto the van.
2. John drives us and the cats over ahead of the van. They’ve been kept out of the way in the bedroom all day over there and here, they’re shut away in the bathroom. Taking in cushions and duvets that smell like us, I join them and after a moment’s hesitations, they’re out of the carry boxes and exploring as a group: in the bath, on the window sills and peering in the mirror expecting to see out then turning around to realise it’s a reflection of the same room.
3. I leave the cats to help empty the van and provide desperately required cups of tea. Two of the movers stand, cups in hands, looking out of the living room window, gazing out at the tree line and down into the woods. “Nice, innit?” I hear one of them say to the other. (I’ve seen that exact scene – same stances, same stares – repeated several times over the last year, the position of the window just seems to demand it.)
4. I return to the bathroom and two of the cats are gone! Gone! They’d been fine in this strange room in this strange house while I’d been there but when I’d left them, they’d got frightened. Boron is alone, curled up on the duvet and I search for the others, acutely aware of the open doors and windows downstairs. I find Carbon back in his usually much-loathed carry box but his sister is still missing. I scrabble around looking for her, calling her name. Then I notice that the towels hanging over the radiator look plumper than usual. I touch the rounding and a shiny black nose appears out of the far end.
5. Once the movers are gone and the house is secure, we let the cats creep out of the bathroom. We herd them into the bedroom – they sniff around and jump on the dresser. Then someone, Boron I think it was, leads the charge downstairs and into the dining room. Blasé now, they head straight to the living room door – they want to see more, more!
6. We unpack some key boxes – the kitchen stuff, our clothes – then after weeks of long days, we allow ourselves to relax. The cats join us on the sofa – as I’d predicted “home” for them is the sofa and us – then at bedtime, they follow us up the stairs to our mattress on the floor. In the morning, we’ll all wake up dazzled by the morning sun upon us and I’ll tell the cats “sun! in your bed! how ace is that?”. It’s really pretty ace.
1. After a day apart, we catch up before getting up. He tells me his news and I tell him mine. At half hour intervals, we discuss making pancakes for breakfast but neither of us moves.
2. The cats look delightful on the new duvet cover. It’s spotty (like Smarties, Katherine says) and multi-coloured, a strong contrast to their solid black. I pull my mum & dad in from the landing on their way downstairs to show them how handsome Boron looks on it.
3. The baklava there is usually delicious but chewy, as if it’s been microwaved. Today though, the pastry is fresh and the flakes melt in my mouth. I urge everyone to try it but no one does. They’re missing out but I don’t mind: more for me. ;)
1. To walk further into the woods than we’d gone before and find exciting things.
2. The newly exposed seeds glisten as I walk down the garden. Russet heads peck at the garish pink flesh.
3. The rhythm of combing sends us both into a meditative state. The Simpsons run unwatched in the background.
© 2024 Louisa Parry