1. It’s not been windy so the leaves stay where they have fallen: patches of yellow on a carpet of russet red.
2. The laundry looks like it’s been ironed (but is not).
3. Kaufman sleeps on my desk with his head resting in my upturned hand (I’d been tickling his ear and he’d gone to sleep before I could move). When he dreams, I can feel every whisker twitch.
3b. The cats react to the fireworks in the opposite way than I would have predicted – Strange, usually the bravest (or at least gobbiest) of them hides under the dining table, with Kaufman nearby ready to bolt downstairs, while Tilda, the usual scaredy cat, doesn’t move from her usual spot on the armchair. (Admittedly Strange was outside when the bangs started and Kaufman was in the window looking out towards the offending house over the valley so they had it worse.) Later, Strange becomes almost cocky in her demanding of attention, as if to downplay her earlier fear: “scared? Nah, don’t be daft, I wasn’t scared, I was guarding the under table space in case the other cats needed it.”
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