for a change

doze, sleep but not really sleeping, awake to the sound of the cat's complaints, let it out, hear the cat door go creak and slam.
Go back to bed, why not? The rest of the family, both of them, are sleeping.

And then it is half past eight. On usual days, that would be very late. So get up, and gather the things to make coffee with, switch on the grinder, and the little coffee maker with the sieve. Take out the sieve and wash it out under the tap.

Let the cat back in. She grunts in thanks, or acknowledgement, or whatever cats do that for.

Settle down, get the computer, get ready to write these notes. A cup of coffee, a cat and peace in the flat. The clock is silent, it had been stopped last night for adjustement, and then restarting it was forgotten. The hands are stopped at nine.
Get up from the table, and adjust the minute hand by moving the little second hand, then start the heavy short brass pendulum swinging again.

Then sit down, and write about the morning's doze.

Feed the cat, she is being insistent. A fresh tin, she eats all that is put on the plate.

Then sit down again, the cat is sitting in the window, looking out.
Sneeze.
The cat gives a short vocal comment on this, then she gets up and wants to go back into the kitchen again.
Get up.

It is so nice to be alone and lazy in the morning.
for a change