“Life is a frail moth flying caught in the web of the years that pass.” - Sara Teasdale

We live quite to a park and there is other open space nearby too, perhaps that is why we get so many moths in our house during the summer months. They come into the bathroom, maybe they are attracted to the light, but I read somewhere that they like a humid atmosphere so perhaps that explains why they choose the bathroom. 

I rather like moths, they have beautiful markings and they don't really do any harm in the bathroom. I love having the chance to take a close look at their markings when they settle on the wall, they really are very beautiful in a more subtle and understated way than butterflies. The problem is that our cat Oreo has appointed himself moth catcher in chief and during 'moth season' he lurks in the vicinity of the bathroom ready to pounce on any unsuspecting moth which is careless enough to stray within his reach! I feel very sorry for the moths.

Since we have been back from holiday it seems as if the moths have a death wish, I gave found corpses in the bath damp and dying moths around the sink and moths turning up their toes on the window ledge. I don't know what is going on. On Friday I found the corpse of what I thought was a grasshopper in the bath. On closer inspection I found that it was a speckled bush cricket. The question is, how did it get there? Speckled bush crickets are flightless, they can jump but our bathroom is upstairs and only the small top window was open, so how could it possibly have got into the bathroom?

I Sometimes Wonder Why

He was in quite a state when I first met him. He'd had an unhappy time and he hadn't been taking care of himself, he was completely lost. He was a mess, but despite his unkempt appearance there was something about him that made me take notice of him. I didn't intend to let him move in, it just happened, one day he turned up on the door step and by the next day I had agreed that he could stay.

He was cautious at first, it took him a few weeks to adjust to family life but even then he was high maintenance. It cost a fortune to sort his teeth out, he had dodgy feet too. We spent even more to make him look respectable again, but the expense didn't stop there. He has an insatiable appetite and he will eat almost anything, he would even eat the food off my plate if he got the chance! He is not exactly good looking but what he lacks in looks he makes up for in ego. He likes attention, but only on his terms and if things don't go his way he sulks and swears and lashes out at anyone who gets in his way. He acts as if he owns me, he is a bit of a flirt, but if I dare to pay attention to anyone else he is not amused. However inapropriate,  he will position himself right next to me and stick to me like glue making it impossible to ignore him.

He often sits there looking out at the world, flirting with the ladies and swearing under his breath at any male that he sees as a threat. Occasionally he takes himself off for a few hours, who knows what he gets up to, but he always comes back when he is hungry. He has some horrible habits, he is a little too open about his bodily functions and he eats things that are only fit for the bin, but when I tell him off he takes no notice whatsoever. He really does think that he is the boss and perhaps he is right. He treats me like a servant and I let him get away with it! I seem to spend my life running around after him, buying his favourite food, clearing up after him and making sure that he is well looked after. 

Why do I do it? because I love him, he is the best cat ever!

In the book of life, the answers aren’t in the back - Charlie Brown

Robbie is a fan of Charlie Brown, he particularly likes Linus. Linus always reminds me of my son, not just because of his attachment to his security blanket, because he is clever, spiritual and a deep thinker. He has his own view of the world and it doesn’t seem to bother him that other people see things differently. I guess there is a bit of Linus in Robbie too, but instead of a security blanket he has a rucksack!

The one thing that both Robbie and my son have in common is that they don’t always understand me. This week has been a bit of an uphill struggle for me, my asthma has been playing me up which makes everything so much more of an effort. It makes me feel scared, struggling to breathe is horrible. It felt as if I was plodding through the week with diving boots on! My son, who probably hasn’t noticed that I have been feeling off colour this week, added to my burden by breaking the habit of a lifetime and delivering all his washing to the washing machine without being asked  - how many clothes does that boy have!! Later on he saw me trying to compare an old photo with the present day image on Street View. He asked what I was doing and I explained that I was trying to work out exactly where the photo had been taken. He was quiet for a minute or two, then he posed a deceptively simple question, “why does history matter?” I think the answer to that could be a blog post all on it’s own, but it gave me plenty to think about.

Robbie did his best to cheer me up, he made me a lovely meal on Wednesday evening. Unfortunately his efforts to cheer me up tonight fell on stony ground. He sat at the side of me with his ipad, he wanted to show me train pictures. I thought it was quite sweet until I realised the grim story behind what he was showing me. He made a hasty retreat to the other side of the room with my words still ringing in his ears!

The only person who knew instantly without being told that I wasn’t feeling very well was my best friend – and we were only speaking on the phone. It made me realise how lucky I am to have her. It is the strangest thing, it was a very odd situation that brought us together and no one would have expected us to become friends because we are very different. I think it surprised us both, but there was an instant connection between us from the very first time we met. It feels as if we have been friends forever.

A friend is someone who knows the song in your heart & can sing it back to you when you've forgotten the words