Chantal is still recovering from her chest infection, coughing if she tries to do too much (which she does) and if she talks too much (which she wants to do). Normally our morning routine is a sort of team work – I make tea, get the dogs out of bed, and feed them. Chas sorts out the cats, and, after breakfast, takes the dogs for a short walk. Mornings have been traumatic with only half of the team. Take last Wednesday. I wake relieved that we haven’t moved into a terraced house with a triangular garden and no room for veg, but having been woken in mid-dream I am even less functional than usual. As I creep downstairs I am startled by a shout of “Can I have some toast and don’t let Jessie eat anything!” Cat Jessie is due for an op, and I have to deliver her to the vet, dropping off a Chas-sample to the doctor on the way, although the Dr isn’t actually on the way to the vet.
I get an unexpected cold shower when the tap water misses the kettle. I feed the dogs, make tea, feed the wife, and go to the study for a quiet breakfast, only to find that Jessie has “soiled” the plastic sofa-cover. While clearing this up I see that Tia has donated her breakfast to Jessie who now has her head in the dog bowl. I remove the cat from the dog bowl, and the dog bowl from the kitchen, and seek advice from Chantal who asks why I let the cat eat the dog food. I do not appreciate this query. I am now running late. I walk the dogs in dark, returning to find that I have to defrost bread rolls for lunch, and the car windscreen. I load the cat into the car, drive off, and turn around after 5 minutes to collect my work ID from the kitchen table. The Dr’s receptionist asks if all relevant details are written on the tube inside the envelope. I don’t know – it’s not my poo. At the vets I have to read and sign a consent form for Jessie, but my specs are in the car. The nurse summarises the contents – Jessie might die from the anaesthetic. Great. I sign it, and I am relieved to head for the office. Jessie didn’t die, and no doubt will be the subject of a future post.
Latest on Chantal – the nursing service has given her another week off work. She is waiting to see the Dr for x-ray and other test results to try to discover the reason for the recurrent infections.
Technically we live in Oaktree House, but sadly the tree had to go.
We now have a thriving Oakstump at the front of the house.
