NotJustAHatStand

...I am ill.

I have what I sincerely hope is a cold, and not the 'respiratory virus' that seems to have infected everyone south of Inverness. At the moment I just feel like I have one of my many colds, but I hear that that's how the nasty bug starts, so hopefully it doesn't develop any further. I wouldn't be surprised if it does end up being a virus though - we spent most of our night with the neighbours on Friday being coughed upon by the lady next door, who sounded like she might hack up a blackened lung at any moment (which really put me off my sausage roll).

Despite feeling crap when I got up today, I went into work and spent most of the day dreaming of lying under a blanket in front of a roaring fire. At lunchtime I took a break from staring moronically at my computer screen and went out for a bit of fresh air, thinking it would help. Instead I got rained on, and stepped in a big puddle. For the rest of the afternoon I sat at my desk and tried to look busy, whilst sniffling and applying Vaseline to my poor red hooter. I really am quite pathetic when I'm under the weather.*

*Fiance will vouch for this. I guarantee it.

ANYWAY, we booked a holiday last night!

I know, it's exciting isn't it?!

We'll have our honeymoon later in the year (which ISN'T booked yet) but C and I both felt that we couldn't wait till September to have a break. We're going away for a week with both our mums and the dog to a pretty little cottage on Skye. We plan to do some walking, lots of eating and drinking, and generally just chill out away from Edinburgh and any wedding-related stress. I'm really looking forward to it. I wasn't sure I would be - I love both mums to bits of course, but it can sometimes be difficult having two grieving widows to think about - but I genuinely am looking forward to going away with both of them. It helps that both of them seem to be quite positive and cheery now that the festive season is over.

The only slight downside is that I can't take my little cats with me. I'll be enlisting the help of the catsitter, Alison, to take care of them while we're gone. Roo and Coco love her - she jokes that it's because she rolls in catnip before coming round but I'm not so sure she's joking. I think they like Alison more than they like me.

Hopefully I will live to post another day, but for now I have a date with my sofa and a blanket.

Labels: Holidays, Illness, Pets

Fiance and I made it round Tesco, including the toilet brush section, without arguing with each other or being rammed by any trollies. And he let me buy the £7.99 toilet brush, instead of the 48p Tesco Value one.

But before we went to Tesco last night, I fell in love.

He's black, with beautiful big brown eyes, and he's very laid back. He also has big feet and floppy ears... I was in the pet shop buying cat food and a Christmas present for the cats - Fiance was late meeting me so, very unwisely, I was then left to wander around the pet shop myself, where I was chatted up by a rabbit.

I had already bought the stuff I went in for and Fiance was still on his way, so I was standing watching the guinea pigs and rabbits in their run. This little black rabbit with the floppy ears was running around the cage, munching on hay and jumping on the other rabbits, but every so often he would stand up on his hind legs and peer at me, twitching his little nose. He did this about four or five times, and by the fifth I had fallen in love with him. He then fell asleep on his back with his legs in the air. It was at this point that I decided he would fit right in in my house, and that I was taking him home.

Unfortunately, Fiance turned up just as I was about to ask the assistant to box Peter up (yes I'd already named him), and put his foot down. So poor little Peter is still in the pet shop, where he will stay, over Christmas, unless I can persuade Fiance to let me have him.

I'm not holding out much hope; my Fiance has a Heart Of Stone when it comes to my rash impulses. This isn't always a bad thing as I do tend to get ideas in my head (especially when it comes to fluffy animals) but still, I hope he reads this and feels terribly guilty.

Poor little Peter.

Labels: Pets