I’ve said I’m putting a stop to the Ten series, but I have good reason to revive it today.
It was, as they say, a perfect Ten of a morning.
The day began with a tropical storm that roused me at 5. I woke blearily to the sounds of thunder crashing, branches whipping against the building facade, and three caterwauling kitties outside my bedroom door. Meh, I thought. Cupcake raised her head enquiringly. I gave the sleepy girl a head rub and went back to sleep.
Waking a few hours later, I realise that was a bad decision.
The first signs are rows of chalky paw prints criss-crossing the kitchen. Icky cloudy puddles follow, and the trail leads to the babies’ completely wrecked litter box area. The sand is completely soaked, the mats squelch underfoot, and the cardboard boxes of cleaning supplies are mushy lumps. The kitchen windows are wide and gaping; apparently whipped open by a particularly savage gust.
The only parties who appear undaunted are the three skipping kitties who continue to cluster and weave around my feet, determined to get breakfast. Blackie – for good measure – enters the disaster zone, steps about daintily to pick up pawfuls of soggy sand, and then runs up and down the kitchen to distribute them as fairly as possible. One could just almost imagine he’s doing it on purpose.
Helpless, I feed them and clean the mess as best I can. I end up taking a taxi to work. As I reach forward to pay, I spy the car clock – after all the trouble, I’m exactly ten minutes late.
These are the small things in life that call for a blog post.