Out of sorts Saturday

I have felt out of sorts all day today. Didn't help that the day started at 6.30am when the cat decided to jump on the bed and start head butting me as she wanted to be let out. I stagger to the back door to let her out almost tripping over her in the process.

Back to bed I go.

I reckon I had just closed my eyes, I swear they were closed 2 minutes tops, and then Lucky wakes Molly up and they want to go out. I looked at the clock. 8.30AM. How could that be? I swear I only just closed my eyes. Again stagger to the backdoor and let them out. The cat races back in. I feed her.

Back to bed I go.

Mike having slept through all this decides to then wake and get up. Aaaarrrgggghhhh!!! Why not wake up 5 minutes before and do all the staggering and the feeding.

I decided to go back to bed and lay for a little bit, I was so incredibly tired this morning. Next thing I know it's 10.30am.

TEN-THIRTY A.M. !!!!!

How did that happen? I was sleeping - waking - sleeping in two hour increments. But again it felt like I had just closed my eyes. I must be really depositing into my sadly depleted sleep bank at the moment, because I'm always the first one up - always on weekdays and 90% on weekends.

But then I've not been able to shake it, this really out of sorts feeling I've had all day today. Very uninspired. I even took myself over to Terang to the quilting shop to see if I could be excited by the rows and rows of eye candy of material, bought a metre of material for I know not what, ha! But even that didn't perk me up. Just a case of the sads I think.

Rainbow Bridge

Of late my brother and I have had a tenuous relationship at best, but we spoke last week, the first time in months. Mum had told me that his beloved cat had disappeared so I rang him. He has been beside himself. Bowie ... yes yes, I know, my cat is Bo, his cat is Bowie, I didn't copy, truly, Bo's real name is Bojangles ... Bowie has disappeared and at age 17 or 19 or something phenomenal like that, it's more than likely that he has gone away to die, as I've been told cats tend to do. He had been drinking a lot of water lately and at times would be sitting contentedly and then let out a huge meow very unlike him.

Bowie and Trevor have gotten through a lot of hard times together, dare I say Bowie has even survived two marriage breakups with him. Constant companions. Bowie wasn't always Trevor's cat though, when he bought the house he is currently in the previous owners had Bowie. Despite moving *with* Bowie, Bowie kept coming back to the old house, so in the end they gave him to Trevor being that Bowie obviously was more attached to the old house than to them.

So it has been devastating Trevor, the not knowing. He has searched everywhere, spoken to neighbours, been to the animal shelters, to no avail. And now he is at the stage of facing what he believes to be the truth that Bowie has passed away, hopefully peacefully. Gosh, I'm tearing up just writing this.

So I wanted to make a page for Trevor which I will print and send him, one of my favourite photos I had taken of Bowie a few years ago, he was laying in the sun in the loungeroom by the almost full length window basking in the warmth.

Credits Designer Digitals

I tell you, Rainbow Bridge gets to me every time I read it.