HI Shaz, lovely weather? Not here in Glasgow. We got a few days really hot, humid weather but yesterday.. horizontal rain. As you know, we were going to relocate to Spain but Brexit put paid to that
. Anyhoo, back to Plan B. We have decided to downsize to a modern flat next year, we live in a large Victorian tenement flat but now there is just the two of us and Gandhi,it's too big. I was doing OK on Saturday but then my poor hubby made a silly joke and out of nowhere, the tears flowed. Silly me. He said if it would make me happy, once beloved Gandhi has gone,(Note to Heavens committee, settle down, this is not an invitation to take him) we would have a month's holiday in the sun and then adopt 2 elderly cats. Elderly because of our own advancing years and because I've seen how they are frequently ignored in favour of younger, more agile felines. My heart leapt but on thinking about it overnight, I know I won't. He doesn't really want to, although he would go all out to give any cat a wonderful life but could I face going through this heartache again? Incidentally, this little tale is my hubby to a T. One afternoon, he was slicing a cold, cooked beef brisket joint for a salad. Little Armand, as usual, meerkats up his leg, gimmee.. gimmee. Do you want some beef Wee Geezer?, says hubby. Yip yip.. responds Armand. Whereupon he cuts a choice piece from the middle of the joint, tests it for tenderness, cuts it into manageable chunks and placing it in a wedding china bowl, gives it to a very appreciative little black cat. Just one slice for me says I, thin cut, no fat. Shove off..do you think I'm your blooming butler, you will get what you are given, says hubby.. and plonks a very thick slice of fatty edged, badly cut meat on my plate. Oh yes, I know my place when there are cats in this home.
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