Day 4: Yard, and other things.

So today I got my internet installed *cough cough* and the yard secured for the cats. Which is to say, I think it's secure. Theoretically they don't climb backwards, but they haven't had the idea to try climbing anything yet. The walls were already in place but I had to get mesh things put in. There's nothing in the yard yet except the baby spider plants I put down (see here, and also for the mesh), but after I get paid on Friday I'm going to start with the little trees in tubs. Both cats are out there now having a look around (I'm keeping an eye on them). Zara, to be honest, would probably spend the rest of her life on a single cushion quite happily, so long as I was there to pet her and bring her things, but Beebs, who is a real cat, seems happy and curious to have some outdoor space. She's been sniffing the air, nosing the baby plants, and has killed a fly that came in. I really hope this doesn't lead to multiple bird deaths.

To be honest, since that little crying session I had on Sunday when my friend left, I haven't felt lonely or insecure at all. Partly that's because there has been a constant stream of people in and out between the landlady and her husband, the building guys, the internet guys, etc, and partly because I'm skyping with one of my best friends back in Cardiff a lot (we figured out last night that we can still watch TV together via the power of the internet), and the rest is due to the fact that there's an awful lot of physical work involved in getting yourself set up in a new house on your own when you don't have a car and live in a relatively rural area. I got lost for the first time yesterday trying to find a doctor. I'm really not an outdoor person, and even less of a sport person, but I have to say it seems pretty good for my mental state that I have to keep going in and out all the time, and do things like carry a bag of compost back from the nearest B and Q (in a retail park outside the town). It was as I was hauling this bag back and messing up my bad shoulder again (I tore a ligament there ten years ago and it's never been quite right since), listening to the emo-punk of the 2000s that happens to be the period in which my musical taste became fixed, that I wondered if maybe, after 28 years on this planet during which I've never lived on my own before, I've finally come to a place where I know who I am, I'm almost beginning to sort of like who I am - or at least feel at peace and able to tolerate my own company. Only time will tell if this feeling lasts, but signs at present point to positive.


PS my new neighbour is an elderly Welsh woman who smokes fags out her front door. I ordered my new bins from the council but am utterly confused as to where anyone puts them. The pavement out front is like a foot and half wide.

This is Mari.

She is my mother's oldest corgi. Her name should actually be Small Car, because that is how much her long, loooong list of illnesses and accidents have cost over the decades she has been alive. I feel like at this point she should be getting some kind of frequent flyer rewards at the vet. Despite her unbelievable bad luck (and a fair bit of inbreeding, which doesn't help), here she is looking glamorous 3 weeks before her tenth birthday:
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Bobbo and Ebony

NB 1: They are not confined to these cages. The doors are open and they live in a garage full of hay, toys, food, water, boxes and things to climb on.
NB 2: I did not instigate, approve or in any way endorse the naming of a sentient creature 'Bobbo'.
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