THE CATS ARE JUMPY

As their habitat (a world of bookcases) has half disappeared into cardboard boxes already. One of them has thrown up, and for days they've both been circling and staying even closer to Yvonne and me, and Bonbon's lost a tooth. Luckily our wonderful vet Ian is going to be at our house-leaving celebration/wake later, so he'll be able to peer down a moggy's gob before getting to the party food. (His idea, to save her yet another trip to the surgery.) Ian and wife Karen, not to mention son Lochlan, are top people.

Current mood: dislocated, disconcerted, drawing back from discombobulated.

But I'm only on my first coffee. Soon the world will brighten. I'll miss the Japanese maple glowing gold outside my study window (as it is right now), and the silver birch and holly tree out back, which have witnessed my attempts to master kata on our quirky, lopsided old patio. And Charlie, and Alfie, and Holly, and Poppy... and that's just the neighbours' cats.

On other hand, Yvonne and Nutmeg and Bonbon are with me forever, so that's fine. There. Slipping back into normal worldview once more. That was easy.

Onwards and upwards, Pilots!