Had quite a good night but I was awake very early at some silly o’clock. That meant T was awake early too. I had experienced battles with the duvet overnight, only to wake up to find it had been on the bed the wrong way round. It is a super king and is wider than it is long.
Getting up was also a bit of a battle. I had a bit of tidying up to do – H was rewarded with a short dash round the Rec. I also paid the filling station a visit to stock up with coffee in anticipation of Debs’ toe nail visit later. A visit for T.
I tried to persuade him to let me cut his toe nails a few months ago, and they were bad enough then. I’m not sure how he got his feet into his shoes. Or walked with such talons.
Anyway, the journey to Abingdon for Art was frost and black-ice free for the first time in this series of classes. And poodle free.
Today, we were working with oil pastels to draw a portrait in the style of Paul Klee. I need to take his style and apply it to a portrait of my own. No… Not of me! Of a photo of someone that I possess.
I quite enjoyed working with colour again. I sat on a different table with interesting people to talk to, one of whom was a Wednesday refugee. For this week only, she was joining our Tuesday group because she cares for her grandchildren who will not be at school tomorrow due to the teachers’ strike.
I had to leave slightly early in order to be at home because Debs was coming to give T’s feet a good going over. Predictably, he was still in bed, but moved like a rocket when I pointed out that she would be here shortly. She appeared unphased by his toe nails and removed the excess skilfully and quickly. And then gave him a massage. A foot massage. He appeared slightly grateful. And I am relieved.
I cooked a late lunch/ very early supper. It was a long time since 05.00 when we had brekkie. T even ate it. H gratefully received her special tomato doggy mince.
Then I fell asleep for an hour or so and awoke to deal with some online admin. And other boring stuff.
I watched a dynamic and gripping programme on C4 about our gut. It focussed on poo, burps and farts. (Title: Know your Shit) With human stories attached to each.
An episode of Silent Witness followed and then oblivion.
I am finding T’s mutterances particularly tricky at the moment. He seems to have had digestive queasiness for a week or two along with verbal reaction. I want to shut my ears off. Or be in a different room or place. I just wish for silence. A gag might help.
But hey, his toes are twinkly and must be more comfortable.
Everybody is on strike tomorrow.
Thought for the Day
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