George is at a church Synod conference in Sturbridge for three days, and here it all about the kitties. I don't have to worry about an alarm clock. They hear someone rustle in the bed, and they are on it! They usually wait until about 5:30 for their big group hug however. Simba is always first. He angles himself over my body so his head is laying upside down and dangling off my side, and his belly is sticking up in the air ready for rubbing. I hold his head in my left hand and stroke with my right. I told George that petting Simba is like playing a guitar. This is entirely Simba. He loves to be petted upside down. He stretches out like the limber athlete he is. No matter if he slides off the bed, he just hops right up again.
Safari brings her string toys up and starts rattling the bells. Time to wake up, mom! She plays with anything she finds, and last night was having a gay old time with a plastic wrapper from a scarf that Mike bought me at the British Museum. Nice and crackly. Safari comes up on the bed in the morning, and squeaks just once, just to say hello. This is the only time she makes that particular squeak sound. And then, being the curious kitty that she is, she's off to look out the window, or find a bell toy, or wander to the top of the stairs to wait for me to get up.
I am driving to work instead of carpooling with George. That is a big deal. My car gets so little use these days that the brakes aren't getting enough lubrication and the brake light comes on. And they are new brakes! We really do have to take my car more often. Since George got his new Honda, my car drives like a haywagon in comparison.
Off to work. Thank Goodness It's Friday!
Have a great day. (Kitties, I'll be home again soon.)
