So, I come downstairs this morning, irritated because it is so dark already. And I wonder absent mindedly, why Calum’s trainers smell so horrible. The cats are looking bewildered, and are picking their way across the kitchen floor as though they’ve painted their claws and are trying not to smudge them.
As I’m making the coffee, I decide it’s not Calum’s trainers that smell, it’s the fridge. Something must be rotting at the back.
It’s only when I go to feed the cats that I realise the reason they are walking so strangely, is because they are picking their way through the shards of glass sprayed across the end of the kitchen. And then I discover that the smell is the smell of fermenting pear juice which is dripping from every surface from the bottle which has exploded overnight. Chris had to stand in the garden opening all the others which fizzed and splashed all over the place.
We’ve got apple and pear trees with a huge harvest on this year. So, every afternoon whilst Rosie slept, Chris, Calum and I made some juice. The apple juice is brilliant. This was the first time we’d tried pear juice. Something went badly wrong. That’s payback for the mouse the other night though, cats.
Different approaches to grief and mourning are so interesting, aren’t they. And yes, I too feel homesick. Looking forward though to seeing Rosie teevee 3 which is being edited at the moment. Will be shown very soon. Will let you know when.