Please don't wake me, no.

September 24, 2011


A week of running about here and there, late night's out and meetings with smiles glued to my face rendered me incapable of anything yesterday beyond dressing myself and going to the bathroom.

Sleep was my primary activity of the day.

Even after getting up at 11.30, napping at 4.00, a walk at the farm with the dogs for an hour or so, I was still in bed and sound asleep by 10.15, not stirring, except for a brief interlude at 1.15 am, until 7.14 am, when Frankie's I-have-to-go-pee-whine was so incessant that stumbling downstairs to the coffee pot before taking him and Tikka out was much earlier than I had anticipated.

Relieving bladders always trumps sleeping in, no matter how comfortable you're wrapped in your bed.









I'm not the only one in this house who welcomes comfort.

Last evening, after walking the dogs, before going to bed, I was in my office, watching another episode of Wire in the Blood, pretending that I was organizing work, when I looked to my right, and saw this:

Dibley.

In what has become his favourite sleeping position.

And if you find that belly a scratching temptation, you wouldn't be alone.

However, you'd only do it once.

Because while Dibley may proffer his middle, he doesn't like anyone touching it.

At all.

I have the scratches to prove it.

But can't you just see the peace and comfort in that face?









Not to be outdone, but never one for comfort, is Jasper.

Not yet a year, he is full of the piss and vinegar inherent to all kittens.

Ricocheting off walls, bouncing off furniture, rolling around the floor, chasing anything that moves including Frankie's tail.

Checking out all nooks and crannies.

Snooping into this interesting place or that interesting place.

Hello, camera. What's up?

And isn't he just a handsome little man?

Don't let that little face fool you.

While is loving, adorable, cuddly and has no problem with a belly scratch, he can turn into commando kitty within seconds, leaving the hand that was just scratching his belly sporting Jazz scratches and you wondering when everything went south.

Cats.

Go figure.

Last week, at the market, I bought ten falafel.

Yummy.

However, not having a lot of experience with falafel, I was unaware of the repercussions of eating them.

I am now.

Well versed.

And perhaps in a position where falafel will never pass through my lips again.

Title Lyric: I'm Only Sleeping by The Beatles