[m i a o w] the cat

It must be a product of my upbringing - feeling that staying inside the house all day is ‘bad’. Same as eating up everything on your plate - whether you’re full or not. Just stood at the window urging myself to go for a walk, after spending the day reading the paper, playing guitar, finishing Black Tide and filing all my bills and bank statements. Scintillating stuff. Fact is, I don’t feel like a walk. I would walk if I had some headphones - because I don’t feel like talking to anyone along the way, but I don’t. (Well, I have the headphones, but am Wi - Withough iPod - or walkman, or anything similar, for that matter).

A small tragedy. The other day M uncovered a few boxes that we’d left underneath the house. Would have been OK, except the pipe for our recently connected kitchen sink was buggered. Many of M’s sailing books are water damaged and fairly un-salvageable - I can’t even bear to see what of my books may have perished. Bought two 80 litre plastic storage bins for what has survived. I should have taken everything to my storage place, but I left some boxes behind; they wouldn’t fit in the van. Gah.