Flossie’s Tales

This week’s media brought to us the news that common old mongrel mutts were more self aware than previously understood. Resorting to jealousy, even, under laboratory conditions. The scientists claimed that this level of awareness of the self and others around it had only previously been witnessed in primates. Really? Have they not lived with animals before?

I’ve known dogs so jealous that I have not been allowed in the houses of friends. I’ve owned cats that were sensitive enough to know you’re upset. Every time.

Have they never witnessed cats walking away nonchalantly with their noses in the air the moment they fall to the ground or slipping about on ice in an undignified manner. Not self aware? Really?

The local cats will have plenty of opportunity for practicing that look around here. The clear sky and the bitterly cold weather following drizzle earlier today meant that even at seven o’clock the ground was devilishly slippery.

Walking home tonight I decided to pop into town to do some Christmas shopping. Whilst I was there I thought I’d keep an eye out for a new hat. If I’m to walk home at all this winter, I need to keep my head warm. The beanie hats that seem in fashion this season just don’t sit well on my head. It’s not that I’m worried about the fashion, rather that nothing else appears in the shops.

Eventually I found a different style of hat that looked about right. I tried it on, it seemed OK.

The one snag, there’s always a snag isn’t there, is that it really doesn’t go with my scarf. I’d need a new one if ever I was to do a hat and scarf together. Grrr.

I didn’t buy it. These decisions are far too difficult to make over one evening, don’t you know. So I decided to take a photo and have a vote: yea or nay?

I tried the hat on. Whilst no-one was looking I held the phone at arms length and clicked.

The bright flash drew the attention of several shop attendants. I look over my shoulder to deflect attention as I surreptitiously slide the phone into my pocket and, like the cat, walk nonchalantly away.

I thought I’d post the photo here so that you can decide whether I buy the hat or not. Fashion 2.0.

So, what do you think?

Oh no. It’s raining. Let me put my hood up.

It’s only water, you wuss.

Water is dangerous. You can *drown*!

My alarm beeps. I sleepily hit snooze, but knowing I have an early appointment across the far end of town I begrudgingly drag myself out of bed. Wrapped in my dressing gown and towel I trudge to the bathroom, not yet awake, flinching at the bright light of the bathroom. The floor is cold under my bare feet but the bathroom mats are still uncomfortably soggy. I give the mats a miss. I hear one of the early risers of the house having breakfast and wonder how they manage to do it every day.

Mornings are hard for me these days.

My snooze alarm beeps its reminder. It surprises me. I jolt awake for the second time. For five whole minutes I was dreaming of my morning routine. Vividly. Believing that I had woken.

Getting out of bed seemed rather harder the second time. It seemed more unfair. I’d already done it once.

I’m glad men can stand to go to the loo. Particularly when their backs are to the door. That way, I have no idea if my housemate realises he didn’t lock the door and I walked in on him mid pee.

But I want to go with Daddy.

Just stay here with your Auntie Flossie for a bit. Daddy will be back very soon.

But I want to go with Daddy.

Arms are flung and feet kick against the car seat. My nephew grumbles and calls after his father who, by now, is out of earshot. In hope or desperation he enters full tantrum mode. His fists shake and he wails. Three tears roll down his flushed cheeks.

I know from bitter experience that asking him to calm down will have no effect. I opt for Plan B:

Once upon a time there was a dragon who lived in a cave.

The silence was immediate.

What was his name again? I forget.

Ketchup.

That’s right. Once upon a time there was a dragon called Ketchup who lived in a cave…

Several minutes and a whole storyland later, my brother arrives back. He opens the door and looks at the smiling face of his son, one tear lingering half way down his cheek.

The ducks are blue, Daddy, the ducks are blue.

He takes my hand and leads me to the window.

‘The moon‘ He says proudly.

‘Yes, it is. Bachgen Da‘ I tell him

Just to the right there’s another bright spot. I ask him if he can see it.

He nods.

‘That’s Venus‘ I tell him. ‘It looks like a bright star, but it is a planet‘

Venus. He repeats after me. He is picking up words like a sponge, these days.

And next to it. That is Jupiter. I say.

Jupiter! he calls. Jupiter! That’s not Jupiter. Jupiter is Fireman Sam’s Engine.

Lots of things are called Jupiter, I say. There’s the planet and the engine. Big things are called Jupiter. Fireman Sam’s Engine must be very big.

He nods.

He wanders off, talking to himself. Jupiter planet, venus planet, jupiter planet, venus planet. Moon!

That’s enough astronomy for one night for a three year old boy.

This morning’s texts, in Wordle format.
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It appears that at least one other colleague agrees with me:

When reverse parking on sheet ice, do so very slowly.

I like the anticipation of seeing you. There emotions involved in waiting are wonderful. That we spend an age knowing the next time we see each other is far away means that knowing it will soon be leaves me with this slightly giddy feeling that the world is turning out right again.

The occasional texts as one of us is travelling reminds me that soon I get to see you. Soon, I get to hold you. Soon.

Last night it was cold and clear. I caught the last hour of twilight and drove towards the setting sun, Jupiter and Venus dominating the darkening sky. I can’t remember the last time I saw Venus so bright; just dazzling. The sky darkened and without streetlights the stars shone through.

I remembered Rathsallagh.

I joined the motorway at Carlisle. Ahead, low to the horizon was the Plough. I grinned. My strongest association with the Plough is that it points to the North Star. I was glad the stretch ahead had few streetlights.

Ahead was North. You were North. Soon, I would be North, too.