However it's nothing to do with the episode of the flying ember that smouldered for a minute or two until we worked out where the smell was coming from (she didn't even wake up). My family are cursed with animals that catch alight, as a few Boxing Days ago we were gathered around my parents' table outdoors, enjoying a[nother] meal of cold ham and turkey when I kept noticing an annoying odour of singed ... something. Suddenly someone said (as you do) Oh my god the dog's on fire! The daft animal had sat too close to the citronella candle that we'd lit in a futile attempt to keep the rampaging mosquitos away, and had set herself alight.
Again with the not even noticing. (She was fixated on the plate of the youngest person present).
Anyway, the cat is not really fine because she's nearly twenty, and is becoming unwell. The other night she was all wobbly and her legs gave out from under her. Other things are going on too and I know that I have to take her on that one way trip to the vet very very soon. It's hard though. At 20, she predates the children by almost a decade, and it will be sad not having her around. Son #2 in particular is getting teary already.
Mr Soup decided it was my turn to take an elderly sick animal to receive the green dream, as he did it last time (our 13 year old three legged Burmese cat). I'm a softie though. I'm highly likely to come home with the twenty year old cat still in her basket and a couple of thousand dollars worth of veterinary medication to keep her going for another few weeks. I reckon I paid for our last vet's new BMW with our Burmese's various surgical procedures, plus a skiing holiday or three.
To continue the gloom ...
... remember these lovely socks, pride of my knitting needles?
I don't know why I took a photo of my feet resting on a cushion. Please pardon me.
And remember how I sometimes dry the washing in winter? (Hint, like this[scroll down]).
It led to this.
I uttered many many bad words.
We seem to be in the midst of the Great Lice Fest of Winter 2008. Mr Soup is the only one who's escaped thus far. (Clearly he does not hug his children enough).
My current audio book morphed into pure
On a glass half full note, I'm itching to make something truly glorious like this.
Two babies arrived last week while another will turn up today.
And I just finished The Many Lives and Secret Sorrows of Josephine B by Sandra Gulland with the delicious knowledge that parts II and III of the trilogy await me.
The wattle is everywhere too, so there's that I s'pose.