Listening to Runrig's "In Search of Angels" at the moment. I love that album, it's almost better than "Proterra". Yesterday, I listened to the four Alan Parsons Project albums that I bought on saturday. Now that was nice. I went into Andy's Records in Aber with Himself and the old bloke (Himself, not Andy, though yes, he's the same age as we are) didn't even flinch when I spotted four albums I wanted to buy. The APP are reissuing their back catalogue with extra tracks.

I took Salem out of the cage for a cutch on my lap for a couple of hours this afternoon. So I had to sit and watch the last halfhour of a Perry Mason episode, the Channel 5 news, Neighbours and the Simpsons. I didn't mind! Salem was dreaming, his legs kept twitching. I think he was dreaming that his leg wasn't broken and all pinned together and he was climbing that dratted tree again. Well he can just confine himself to climbing trees in his dreams. I don't want to go through that again.

I took the bandage off his leg that Himself had put on. Salem keeps licking the bit of his leg where the pin is sticking out, and he's managed to rub the skin off. The vet said we should put a collar on him if he does that. But there isn't much room in the cage for Salem and a cage. And I don't want to do that to the little fella. So I put some ointment on him (pet kind, I don't use the kind that people use) and then a bit of crepe bandage to cover it. It seems to be working.

I chatted to L on the 'phone and it's nice to hear her sounding better. She was so low over the weekend, with Snookie having just died and I was worried. It was like school all over again. When she was young, our old cat Puddy died and L didn't tell anyone; not her friends, not the teachers. But one teacher knew that something was wrong and asked me about it. L tends to keep everything inside her; she's like her Dad like that. Neither of them are comfortable talking about Snooks. Whereas I like to talk about the recently departed as if they were still around. Because to me, they are. Whether it's Himself's Gran, who I loved, or a cat, I talk about them. I keep them there, right in front of me. But Himself and L prefer to bury them. *sigh* Sometimes it's hard being around those two, they are so alike.

Well, all for now. It's getting late and I'm tired.
nos da

I've been watching the new double series on ITV. It's okay, not too bad. Not great, but amusing. The idea is that there are two programmes. The first is "Moving Wallpaper" and is about a tv company making a soap. Then the second programme, shown straight afterwards, is the soap, "Echo Beach". It's set in a fictional Cornish town on the coast and has all the usual ingredients: teenagers bonking, families feuding, the sea and surfing, etc. A cross between "Home and Away" and "Eastenders", only with a few more smiles. Don't know if I'll stick to it, but it's funny enough for now.

I did think of buying a book while I was in town this morning. But I decided to go with one I've already bought but haven't read yet. So it's "The American Boy" by Andrew Taylor. I'm trying to read 50 books this year, you see and so far I've read one, "The Careful Use of Compliments" by Alexander McCall Smith. That's not counting children's books and annuals, I decided, so I won't count the 1963 "Cherry Ames" annual I got on tuesday. It was great though, two long Cherry Ames stories and some other stories about girl sleuths. I think I'm getting into that genre of girls' books now.