I've had a truly horrible weekend.
I left work on friday night excited at the prospect of having a weekend to myself, and was planning to spend the whole weekend sewing, knitting, reading, walking, sleeping, and generally chilling out.
On friday evening I went a walk to see the hens and collect the eggs. Bow (above) wasn't with the group, which I thought unusual as she's always around when food's being given out. A short distance away I found a clump of feathers. It took a moment to understand she had been taken by a fox. Bow was one of my favourites and actually my current most favourite. I loved the smoky-grey feathers that reminded me of those wide dancing skirts that ballroom dancers wear.
Then on Saturday my mother-in-law called to say her cat had died. He was 17 years old and had been her friend and constant companion all that time. I went through to see her today, and we had a nice day considering the circumstances. But I feel so sad about it and can't stop crying. I feel sad for him, and I feel sad for my mother-in-law.
So I'm sitting on the couch cuddling a hot water bottle (heat is comforting), watching The Great British Bake Off re-runs, and Paul Hollywood's Bread, knitting a very simple jumper with my own wee cat lying across my legs. And I can hear an owl hooting outside.
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