Cats

Yesterday I noticed one of the local cats had left me a present. As presents from cats go, it wasn't too bad - one huge, vast, elongated hair ball right in the centre of the gate. I actually noticed this as I was waiting for the nice man from Asda to unload.

I have had this driver before - he is a lovely lad but to an old biddy like me he looks about fourteen. He is obviously old enough to drive a van, but looks really youthful. He also has a 'youf' accent, so I can only understand one word in five, but he is a really nice lad. He humours me.

Yesterday not only was a petrified that he would slip on the hairball I had just noticed, but he also had the air of a teenager who had just been told off, and it WASN'T FAIR. From memory and observation, being a teenager is horrible and the poor lad looked like he was having a double dose, so I unloaded most of the shopping myself. There wasn't that much, anyway, and at least I knew where to step to avoid the cat's gift. The thought of a delivery man, who was not having a good day, stepping into the garden under a load of potatoes and cat food and skidding wildly until he fell down the drain was worth thinking, but definitely worth preventing.