Milo was pleased to see me, he dashed about, he was here, then there, then here again, like only a 7 month old kitten can. They are quite mad really. Delightfully mad. I haven't had a young cat for years.
It is still dark at 5am, and cold. I made coffee. What did people do at 5am when they couldn't sleep before computers were invented? I guess they read books, or did embroidery, or chopped the weeks stove wood. Funny, we think we are so clever and sophisticated now a days and yet we are eating ourselves to death, and poisoning our nest.
It is lovely and quiet at 5am, not much of the world is stirring yet.
I'd made two coffees before 6.30am. I've got a busy day coming up. I'm just mentioning that, as it, really, had nothing to do with the number of coffees I'd made. Easter this week, chocolate for everyone. I have to get everything finished for the end of month in two less days than normal. Two less days? It doesn't sound like much and it shouldn't be much, but that's how it is. Everybody is so time poor, a nonsensical construct that really means nothing at all, other than making ourselves sound more important than we really ought, than we are.
5am is lovely, really. I hear the first tram of the day slide along the silver tracks. Clunk, clunk. It won't be long before I hear the first bird call. Buddy lies against my right thigh, like a hot water bottle.
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