Gigs, Cats and emails

Judy Astley featured large in my last post, and here she is again. Dd1 (writer-speak for Dear Daughter One - ie the eldest girl - whew!) had a gig at the 100 Club last Monday. As Katie Fforde wanted to see Lou perform (research for a book) we were going together to watch. Big treat for Mummy, going to watch little girl on stage.

Lou's partner Jarrod, also a musician, was in Holland for a mini-tour, so his mother was going to babysit our joint grandson - until, that is, she fell over and broke her hip. You've guessed it. I had to babysit. So MY friends went to see MY daughter without me. And to make matters worse, they had a good time! Ah, well.

Catching up on cats: their first mini-outing into the garden, fairly early in the morning, me in dressing gown. After a few minutes, acting on RSPCA advice, I collected mother cat Godiva and put her inside, shutting the door to keep her in. I then retrieved daughter cat from under a bush, sustaining mild injuries along the way (inevitable with cats, I find), and took her to the back door. The handle fell off.

So there was I - out in the garden with a struggling cat and the door locked fast against me. Visions of walking into town in my dressing gown and slippers and going to the police shop - we don't merit a police station, here - played horrifyingly in my head, and Gloria finally struggled to the floor. I abandoned her and did the only thing possible. Smashed the glass. All over the inside cat.

Luckily the back door is the original with small panes, so only one small one has to be replaced, and this of course is the problem - the whole handle/lock mechanism is also the original, circa 1926, which is why we can't get it back together. Ah well.

Glass swept up, with help from the cats - luckily Godiva had escaped the first fine shower - taped card over the hole and had restorative cup of tea.

The following day, as I went to the bathroom for the morning ablutions, accompanied up the stairs, as usual, by the cats, Gloria did her normal thing of walking unsteadily along the curved bannister rail. And fell off. All the way down the stairs.

She's fine, of course. I am slowly recovering equilibrium. Conference is almost sorted, book is still not going well, and the erstwhile Swain from Switzerland and I are still e-corresponding, and have even had one or two telephone conversations. I do hope his partner doesn't mind...