Mardy Monday

Well, what else could I call it? I love mondays, as a rule. But today is proving to be the exception. I spent a bit of a restless night. I remember I was dreaming something or other than involved David Tennent. Can’t remember what it was sadly. I kept waking up every couple of hours with coughing, which was not fun. My ribs hurt now.

As I didn’t get up until 10 o’ clock again, it feels like it was a very short day. It’s a bank holiday so there was no post. P and L went for a walk up the hill. I wish I could have gone with them, it’s been a while since I walked up that way, and I love getting to the top and seeing the sea. They didn’t get all the way up though as Morgan spotted them, from where he was playing in the Conrah field. So he joined them. Our cats really love it here, so much more than where we used to live in Merthyr Tydfil.

Last week was rather melancholy, talking of Merthyr. For some reason, I couldn’t get our late and still dear cat Bruce out of my ind. He was killed on the road, just two weeks after we moved here to Aberystwyth. I had a fit of tears halfway through last week, thinking of him. And then our hen, Ellie, died for no reason at all that we could see. It was a particularly cold night and the theory is that she didn’t go back into the henhouse that night when the others did. Annie is always first in as she doesn’t care for mealworms and she likes to make sure that she always gets the top left hand corner in the house. There’s usually one or two that are late to climb up the little ladder into their house, and Ellie is one of them. We think that she loitered for so long outside that she was overcome by the cold, as it got down to -7°C, and she fell asleep outside. Or she was the first out of the house too early in the morning and died that way.

So, all in all, it was a bit of a sad week. I managed to pick an argument with P on our wedding anniversary, which was also not fun. I don’t know what happened: part of it was that I was feeling a little crowded as I’m used to being on my own most of the time. But it wasn’t all that. I don’t know what it was about, but got the week off to a less than delightful start.

And so, here I am on the last week of the year feeling like something the cat chewed up and spat out. I suppose that, as the saying goes, things can only get better. Hmmm. I think I’ll not count my chickens.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

*

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>