Just what the doctor ordered. Okay, maybe not a medical doctor, but after a fortnight of minor glums, I was in need of some company, some exercise and some different things to bolster the spirits.
In this blog I've addressed the fact that every so often I get a shot of the blues. Melancholy, low-level depression, the glums, call it what you like. For the last fortnight I've been a bit out of sorts, a little down in the dumps. Compared to glums of the past, this was a minor bump - I've been functioning, things have been kept going, but I've not been quite right. Once I recognised what was going on, identified the catalyst, I measures were taken to fix it. Time out, exercise, good food, no alcohol, watch who I hang out with - and thankfully I come back to an equilibrium in a week or so. By last Friday I was pretty much back to normal.
And a good, busy weekend was required to completely knock the glums for six.
So the list for this weekend read like this:
1) Take possession of new cat (Friday night)
2) Meditation and breakfast (Saturday Morning)
3) Manicure, pedicure, coffee and cake (Saturday Afternoon)
4) Christmas in July - in June (Saturday evening)
5) Pump Class (Sunday Morning)
6) 1000 Steps (Sunday Lunchtime)
7) Visit Blarney (Sunday Afternoon)
8) Try and get the book group book read for Tuesday night.
So, Friday night, Sam drops of cat number two.
Maow Maow went home on Tuesday night and the place has seemed a bit empty since then. Sam and her family are off to Europe for a month and I offered to take Tia the cat. She's a lovely little girl, a bit older and a lot less needy than the Maow Maow. She's also quite a bit smaller and a hell of a lot fluffier.
When I said I'd take her, I asked Sam if she could provide a covered litter tray. As the cat accoutrements live in the kitchen when a cat comes to stay, a covered litter tray is a must at my place. Sam rocked up just after dinner, black and white fluffy unit in tow, a month's worth of food and litter and no covered litter tray. She apologised and gave me some money to go source one -she said she's looked for one, but they were hard to come by.
It seems that a cat box is a bit harder to find than I thought.
(Where the hell do you think you're going, eh. Come back here and pat me!)
Thankfully all of the joyous habits the Maow Maow inflicts on me have gone with his departure - the sleeping under the duvet (after asking to come in), knocking everything off the bedside table at 5.30 in the morning, landing you with the mother of all guilt trips as you go to work.... Tia just wants to cuddle and talk and that is about it. Lovely girlie, but in need of a covered poo box to make her stay perfect. She's been sleeping at my hip on top of the covers - it's wonderful. But added to the list of jobs was find a covered cat litter tray. She's here for a month, it would do my head not to have one after a day or two.
Saturday morning came and went. A lovely meditation session with the normal fortnightly meditation crew. Breakfast at our regular, exceptional cafe in Caulfield (Cafe D'Lish). A good meditate and some smashed avocado with Persian feta on sour dough toast is always a great start to the weekend.
On the way home, stopped in on Kmart - no covered litter trays in store.
After a quick stop home, it was off to Camberwell for an afternoon of girlie delight. Jonella, her sister and mum and Teddy joined me. Two hours of hanging around our favourite nail bar in Camberwell for a manicure and pedicure each, after having a teased Jonella for feeling anxious about having her toes and fingers in clashing colours (she did well, blue toenails, peach fingernails in the end - we're very proud of her) after which it was off for cake and coffee - another tradition.
In all, a near perfect afternoon - but after a shop with Teddy where two pairs of winter, leather boots were purchased (the perfect two toned black flat riding boot and a long black heeled boots - wanted, half-needed and half priced) and a stop in at Target - still no cat litter box. Two pairs of perfect leather boots, yes, but no cat dumping ground.
The Annual Christmas in July was held that evening. Hosted by one of one of Blarney's friends, this is an annual event held at a South Melbourne pub. As a rule, there is a $10 Kris Kringle - boys buy for boys, girls buy for girls - as well as a Christmas dinner that you can eat without indigestion or suffering from it being 35 degrees Celsius in the shade. It was a very pleasant evening, even though the room was very noisy and rather hot and after a few hours, it was time for me to leave from the exhaustion of asking people to repeat them self every two minutes.
Popping in at Woolworths on the way home, once again I left yet another supermarket without the coveted covered cat litter tray.
A good night's sleep, a cuddle with the cat, 100 pages of The Sound of One Hand Clapping down (250 to go) it was time to get out of the house.
The required pump class was great. It was the first time in a few months that Em and I had made our Sunday constitutional. An hour later, 25 kg squat track, far too many push ups and a killer lunge track, we left for a quick coffee. We stopped in at the pet store and Kmart at the shopping centre.
No covered cat poo trays to be bought.
I made my way out to Ferntree Gully to meet the girls from the 12 Week Body Transformation Challenge. It was the day to climb a Dandenong. It's great catching up with Trin, Kez and a few others. The day being rather damp, we made our way up the 1000 Steps. I hung back with Trin, talking on the way up talking it very easily, trying to put the world to rights and making sure we didn't sli[. We let the whippets streak ahead. It was great to take the steps slowly, especially as they were so slippery. Making matters worse, when we got to the top, our normal way down, via the Lyrebird Track, was closed - and for the first time ever, I had to pick my way down the stairs.
Anybody who knows me will attest to the fact that I am dreadful at walking down stairs. I am one of the least sure of foot people on the planet. Going up I'm fine. Going down I have to take stock of my fear of falling, slightly dodgy needs, lack of balance and hope for the best.
Part of me thought that I'd be wailing, bawling and whining about having to make my way down the slippery steps. Somehow, very carefully, taking our time, Trin and I made our way back down. 30 minutes up the hill, 45 minutes down. My quads are groaning a bit at the moment, but I did it - no complaints and no tears. It was brilliant. Also had a chance to take some photos on the way up.
On the way out to Blarneys, I passed a Bunnings - surely they'd have a covered cat poo tray. It's Bunnings (think Home Depot or B&Q) they have everything. I asked the dude at the front desk where the pet crap was kept. He told me - and send me to the dog house department. After a scour around the two acre building, I came away empty handed.
No covered cat poo tray.
Obligatory Sunday visit to Blarney and the boys occurred after this - a cuddle from the Maow Maow, who appeared happy to see me. A cup of tea, a chin wag, read the boys a book and talked football with Blarney.
Making my way home, I spied a pet supplies story just around the corner from where I live. I drove in. I looked around.
A veritable Mecca of covered cat poo trays!
Finally!
I left with the obligatory tray (as well as a hairbrush for the girlie - Sam left that behind too, and being a long haired critter, a daily brushing is good for her - keeps her happy)
So now it's time for bed - after a really successful weekend. I'm relaxed, pretty much up for everything the week has in store.
And even better, I'm not trying to source something you think would be easy to find.
Right, off to bed. Come on, Tia. Bed time.
Pandx
2 comments:
Hi Pand,
Liqourice, our hellcat, likes to sit on our laptop too - but only when we are using it.
What is it with cats and their weird ways?
Have you thought about getting your own cat?
:0)
Cheers
PM
Love the laptop photo - that adorable face...!
Can understand the need for a covered cat tray after looking after a cat for a mere week recently. The 'whoof' that greeted me the moment the door was locked was very, very surprising as I assumed that cats weren't as, um, 'pongy' as dogs.
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