Sixes and sevens

26th December 2022

There was no rosy glow drawing me to a window this morning.

When finally I could take no more of the feline wake-up assault, I leapt up (in truth it was more of a stagger) and released a blind.

It was still pitch black out, with but the faintest grey glimmer on yon’ hill.

“Nights are supposed to be getting shorter!” I humphed.

Well, I did say not yet…


Comparatively, the temperature this morning was mild, somewhere in the low 20’s F / 6 C with no wind chill.

Winter skies are always yellow tinged.

The “week between” is the one I would choose to remove, if I was asked. I doubt I am the only one to feel this way.

It’s a hang over from when I was employed, an active participant in daily life.

Getting anything accomplished during this week was always an exercise in futility.

Anyone who was not on holiday was pissed off because they hadn’t managed to be and disinclined to be of help to anyone.

Either the week was disjointed by the holiday falling in the middle, or it was foreshortened like this year, by the holiday “rolling” from a weekend day.

There always seemed to be a post-Christmas slump of spirits, a sort of anti-climax after the big build-up.

Retired, every week is much the same, so why would I feel at sixes and sevens, as my aunt used to say?

Maybe a change of music would help, so I have moved on from the Sacred Choirs for the time being.

Grant went off to do some chores but I opted to stay put with the little darlings.

There is a really sweet little cat somewhere behind those eyes.

Poor Tinks!

They all seemed a bit subdued as well.

Curled up in warm places.


For once Patches got a favourite spot.

Blackie was in an “other” world, zoned out.

Toby was out for the count.

Sophia was happy in her place by the fire.

So she allowed me to take her picture.

She almost trusts me now.

Muffin was on the sofa.

“Lunch?” she asked, hopefully,

At that moment, Grant returned.

Hearing the car, His Nibbs arrived

“I sing a sweet song for a morsel”


Dee Dee was not impressed.

“You’re just a stinky boy-cat!”


“Your shop steward is awfully rude!”


He was placated with a handful of kibble.

After lunch everyone settled down again.

There’s been a shift, since Christmas.

That day, something scared Willow.

Big time.

Eyes huge. Hiding and avoiding the living room.

When she finally emerged, she decided to take over Lucy’s favourite spot in the chair beside me.

Curiously, Lucy has not protested.

She’s got a place beside a radiator, after all!

As to what scared Willow, I have no idea.

She isn’t as nervous as some of the others and none of them were acting spooked. But Willow’s eyes were like saucers.

She has a condition that sometimes causes a creeping sensation on her skin which makes her jump. Perhaps she had one of those or maybe it was static electricity. Maybe both.

Everyone else got their picture posted, so here is Penny.

She seems to have found herself a warm place downstairs.

But I can’t leave her out!

5 thoughts on “Sixes and sevens

  1. I had a cat once who culd slep for 27 hours every day! They look like they’re nice and warm your cats. I hope the cold weather isn’t too bad where you are. 🙂

  2. At least it seems that the ‘days in between’ are not too difficult for the cats. If you say your nights are getting shorter, that means our nights are getting longer (and days shorter) … I don’t want to think about it yet!

Leave a Reply