This has turned into one of those days where nothing gets done.
It started with me waiting for Jimmy Squirrel to finish stealing from the seed bucket before I opened the door.
Grant gets the buckets ready and puts them outside.
Why? I’m not quite sure.
The squirrels flee, as if they are afraid of us, which I seriously doubt, considering the way they stare in at us if we dawdle too long over breakfast.
Dawdle. There’s a good word.
This morning I found a “dawdle” version of Wordle.
Part of my breakfast routine now is to solve the Word of the day (in 2 languages), then I solve (or not) two versions of the geography quiz.
Wordle consists of a five-letter word, but there are six-letter and four-letter word versions as well.
And while fiddling about with those this morning, I discovered Dawle or Dordle, I’m not sure which.
Whatever it’s called, it’s diabolical.
It consists of three five-letter words in columns.
The aim is to solve all three in 6 guesses.
Deciding all of this was beginning to take up way too much of my time, I dismissed it.
Then, of course, I wanted to have another look.
We had to go to Greenwich and I thought I would play with it as we went along.
But I couldn’t figure out where I had found the blessed thing, so I ended up searching for another six-letter word instead.
It’s no doubt good brain therapy, but it could become obsessive.
What I find extraordinary is that in the short time since Wordle was created, people have come up with ways to cheat, presumably to make their “stats” look good.
Because, of course, you can “share” your results.
Personally, I can’t imagine anyone caring a fig about my Wordle scores.
The idea is to get you to use your brain.
Why would you cheat?
What I find myself doing, when I read, is making note of five-letter words that contain 3 vowels because those are good started words.
At least that’s my method.
And of course many 5-letter words contain only a single vowel. So…
I should just read. Bugger the 5-letter words!
Must guard against another obsession!
Having to go to Greenwich disrupted the morning.
Cats had late lunch, again.
The way things are going, lately, they could end up on short rations.
Punishment? Whatever for?
You might ask.
The little beasts are having, you should pardon the expression, a piss-fest.
When you have multiple cats, they play politics and cat politics is every bit as involved as people politics.
Dear, sweet Patches, the nicest and meekest of cats recently experienced some kind of epiphany.
She began visiting us during the night. being very careful to split her time evenly.
But Grant and I don’t concern ourselves with which cat spends more time with who.
It’s the other cats that do.
When one cat has a change of behaviour, it sets off a ripple effect, bit like a tsunami, really.
Patches went from never seeking attention to full-on, in your face (literally) “I love you sooo much!!”
It doesn’t do much for my allergies, either, but that is a problem I can cope with.
Grant at least doesn’t have that issue, but when Patches visits him, Sasha gets ever-so bent out of shape.
Sasha was already ticked off about sharing her man with Penny and Lily and Tinkerbelle.
Now she’s supposed to let Patches elbow her way in?
Sasha as far as we know, does not pee her discontent.
So to speak.
Nor do we think Tinkerbelle does.
However, Tinks is a little shit.
Not her fault, I hasten to say. She was badly messed about when she was very young. So we forgive her.
But she chases the other cats. Especially Patches and Sophia, the two most timid.
Pee is the result.
Then there is my beloved and oh-so-complicated Willow.
Sometimes I really wonder if Willow is not the re-incarnation of my beloved Panther because he would pee on things when he was annoyed.
Willow is less obviously annoyed because she always looks so calm, so “I couldn’t care less”.
She and Lucy…
…don’t need to sit with me, or sleep with me…
…but they don’t want Patches to either.
Hence the piss-fest.
Since we got back from Greenwich, the washing machine has been going and going and beeping and beeping….
It gets tedious.
Every times I turn around a new surface has been spritzed.
How many things can be pee-proofed?
Lily has just arrived to tell me it’s getting late and really, I shouldn’t be telling stories about her mates.
My senior girl. She has minor medical issues but she does not get into cat politics.
For Lily, everything is “cool”.