What do cat pee and Mark Twain have in common? Find out here...
Today I forget the pretentious poetry to send to all ye poet-weary bloggers out there a good old-fashioned prose letter.
Dear Bloggers,
New Year is done and our well-intended if not well-timed resolutions are already in tatters, at least they are if they're anything like mine. But never mind. We tried. Let's move on. Let's move
beyond resolution indeed, a concept that is more than a great title for an apocalyptic movie. Let me explain; I'll try to keep it brief...
Yesterday morning I was woken by being urinated upon. Hmm... The warm liquid ran over my naked hip in an almost pleasant fashion until I realised I was in bed and the liquid was urine - cat urine. At least it wasn't mine - or my husband's. It was the pee of our dear old amputated puss who, bless her, has a bladder problem. Sitting up with a start, waking said husband, I sent puss flying and rivulets of the orangey liquid cascading down all the seams of our duvet - and our duvet has a lot of seams. Disaster. The stinky stuff had penetrated the duvet, the sheet, and me to make its way right through to the recently-washed mattress cover. We're used to this from our dear old embattled puss, but not to this degree. It was 6.30am on a holiday Friday. At least I wasn't wearing pyjamas.
But making good from bad is the new black. So we, and when I say we I men my husband, decided to bite the bullet and wash the whole duvet in the bath rather than make do with a targeted assault on the stained section. Well! 10 hours, some heavy-duty hand-wringing and all day sun-bathing on the grass later and we have a whole new duvet! Stain free! Now I realise this is how duvets are supposed to be, but what with one thing and another over the years I had decided life was too short to fuss over a few old stains. Now I know better. Life
isn't too short - when you move beyond resolution - and have a husband to HELP.
Beyond resolution 1: Make good from bad because life
isn't too short.
You'll be wanting to know about Mark Twain now. Well. It's a funny thing. But a few days back, we, my husband and I - how I love that royal phrase! - celebrated our many-many-numbered wedding anniversary in style. He bought me everything I could ever want
and a handbag, and I bought him a T-shirt that
I could wear so that he could look at me wearing it. Win win. I simply love my T-shirt. My body positively refuses to take it off - except in bed, which is probably just as well, in view of the cat.
But what does this have to do with Mark Twain? Well, you can probably guess that the T-shirt has a picture of Mark Twain's life-size head on it, from his senior years, all white-haired and shaggy-moustache. Under the huge head is the caption: 'That's what she said' as if old Twain said it himself, which he didn't. It's a private joke for us. You have to be here. Husband Mark, another Mark, loves it. Better still,
I love it,
and
Mark Twain loves it, having his bust on my bust for all eternity, or for as long as the cotton lasts. I also bought him some shorts, and those
he gets to wear - my husband, that is, not the other Mark.
Beyond resolution 2: Make love (with your Mark) fun.
Sincerely, beyond resolution,
Sacha
