It's a cat's life

I've realised that my cats, Tux and Flea, don't behave like the majority of their fellow domestic felines. For example, although they will mither me to feed them as soon as I go downstairs to make coffee, they never come and bother me in bed. And when we put the Christmas tree up, replete with hanging baubles, they didn't take much notice although Tux did sleep underneath it for a couple of days.

Ah yes, Tux and his sleeping habits. Up until last week, his most recent favoured spot for napping was on the carpet just inside Dan's bedroom door, only feet away from a comfy and blanket-bedecked bed. This last few days, he's been sleeping on top of an empty tote bag on the dining room table. 

I moved the tote bag, this morning, when I was setting up to record the radio show*. Tux jumped up on the table a couple of times and prowled about looking a little dissatisfied with the new arrangements before settling on my satchel as his new bed, and there he slept through all the electronic music and my nonsense. 

Radio show completed and uploaded, I popped out for a run while Abi and Dan were still stirring themselves, before having lunch with them and then setting about tidying the house for guests, this evening. 

It's been a tradition over the years that my friend Chris and his family come over for an evening around this time of year. They are a lovely bunch: warm, smart, and funny. And I'm delighted that his kids, who are now in their mid to late twenties, still like to come along. This evening was everything I hoped it would be: lots of chat and laughter, and, of course, a few drinks. It couldn't have felt more Christmassy.

*Parts one and two.

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-11.6 kgs
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Reading: 'The Quantum Astrologer's Handbook' by Michael Brooks