I have had a day so brim-full of seasonal creativity that I have only just got round to this, and it is midnight.
I have been doing some of the pre-Christmas manufacturing that inevitably occupies all of November. This is splendidly good fun to do but I had neglected to factor in to my planning that I would be spending the last week of November in Cambridge, and so I am beginning to get a bit behind myself.
I am no longer feeling creative so I am afraid you might be about to lose out. In any case the presence of kittens is not good for the creative muse, nor for the computer keyboard, nor for tranquil ponderings.
They are very good indeed for whipping the dogs up into a frenzy of excitement, helping you eat your breakfast, and giving you something soft, squishy and noisy to stand on all the way down the stairs.
They are on my desk now as I write. One of them is eating the pot plant. The other is trying to work out how hard you have to push to get the paint water to land on the floor. It will not land on the floor at all because the computer keyboard is in the way.
Under the desk the dogs are having a fight. I think it is an amicable sort of fight, although I have not bothered to investigate. Certainly it is a noisy fight, and giving me some mild anxiety about not having any shoes on. I wonder if JK Rowling kept animals. It might have inspired her to create some of her more peculiar imaginary creatures, although I do not see how anybody could possibly have written a dozen books and also owned kittens. I have had to leap up from my chair in alarm three times already during the writing of these few lines.
None of them are at all interested in joining Lucy in her bedroom for some peaceful sleep. They want to be in the Room Where It Happens, which at the moment is this one.
I think I am probably the only one awake. Mark has gone off to the taxi rank for some peace and quiet, and I am reluctant to call him because I think it is entirely likely that he will either be watching a film on Netflix which he can only watch by himself because it has car chases in it, or possibly asleep. The lodger disappeared at about seven o’clock this morning and has not been seen since, but he is leaving tomorrow anyway, so I am not especially concerned for his welfare.
I have added some pictures to save myself a couple of thousand words. They are the view from where I am sitting. There is a kitten sitting directly in front of me trying to pat the words off the screen as I write them. Both of them are purring thunderously, one of them, which is now sitting on my shoulder, into my ear.
13œ` mjkj
The last line was their contribution. I liked it so much that I have used it as the title.
I think I am going to go to bed.
