wake, struggle with straps of that mask,the cat is crowing, making noises, demanding attention. Crowing is what cocks do, the cat is croaking, mammalian and not birdlike sounds! Still, the time is right, cocks crow at dawn, and this is it.
That fuggy funny feeling in the head, fried brains for breakfast, eyes unfocused due to tiredness and sleep.
Out of the bed, led the cat our. Leave the door open a crack, and- whack! the cat is back.
It wants food.
OK.
OK.
OK, so it gets a few spoons of gooey cat food from a fresh tin.
Now the animal shuts up, it has it's mouth full.
No more sleep now, find those trousers, put them on, fresh underpants of course,shirt and pullover, and go into the living room. Knock at the sons door, go in, he is sitting at his computer like some Medusa, long red hair hanging over his back,unkempt uncombed strands reaching down in snake like fronds over his back. Mine craft, and on the side he is installing a Sun system. At eleven years of age doing things his father would have been unable to do at thirty two.
He mumbles something about this being a new system, one to add to his collection.
And then make coffee, and a slice of bread. Take this silver machine and start to write this page as the warm morning drink is made.
And later, the son brings the wife a cup, before he returns to his games.
He has a choir practice today too.
This morning.
A Saturday morning, and there are things to be done.
That fuggy funny feeling in the head, fried brains for breakfast, eyes unfocused due to tiredness and sleep.
Out of the bed, led the cat our. Leave the door open a crack, and- whack! the cat is back.
It wants food.
OK.
OK.
OK, so it gets a few spoons of gooey cat food from a fresh tin.
Now the animal shuts up, it has it's mouth full.
No more sleep now, find those trousers, put them on, fresh underpants of course,shirt and pullover, and go into the living room. Knock at the sons door, go in, he is sitting at his computer like some Medusa, long red hair hanging over his back,unkempt uncombed strands reaching down in snake like fronds over his back. Mine craft, and on the side he is installing a Sun system. At eleven years of age doing things his father would have been unable to do at thirty two.
He mumbles something about this being a new system, one to add to his collection.
And then make coffee, and a slice of bread. Take this silver machine and start to write this page as the warm morning drink is made.
And later, the son brings the wife a cup, before he returns to his games.
He has a choir practice today too.
This morning.
A Saturday morning, and there are things to be done.
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