Get on and Shine with Holly Honeychurch
Cats on Kitchen Counters
How wide spread is this phenomenon? In my housesitting experience I’ve seen all kinds of differing rules on the subject from no rules at all to definitely no cats on counters (sometimes cats aren’t even allowed on sofas!).
Leo just walked across the induction hob to proceed up to his hidey hole on top of the kitchen cupboard. Sometimes he turns the hob on. There are always paw prints and fur on the surfaces. Both cats feel totally entitled to walk across them whenever they please. I lift them down but when there’s butter around they’ll do everything in their power to get to the treasure, clambering over saucepans, tea mugs and coffee makers. I’m on high alert if I leave a hot tray out and put a tea towel on the top while it’s cooling. I’m convinced I’ll find one of them curled up in it one day.
This isn’t the only housesit where cats are welcomed onto counters. In another house the cooker safety lock has to be kept on as one catto likes to lie fully stretched out on top of her luxury hob.
Most other homes say no to cats on kitchen surfaces. And the cats seem to respect this. It’s the way forward. It makes for a happy working environment and definitely less fur and cat bum in my porridge.
Already had to resort to rationing the chocolate if we want to make it through the holiday period. We went hard on them today. Will definitely be bartering for flavours.
Feels fab to have stayed cool, calm, and collected during this year’s Christmas food shopping expedition. Even cracked these babies open on the way home to celebrate. A tin of Quality Street. Oh how I love being an adult.
Well don’t you look like the cat who got the cream. Oh that’s right you did. Clotted! You lucky boy.
Potholes are Pants!
Just had one of those epic journeys. Where everything seems stacked against you. The incessant rain, the flooding, the potholes, the diversions, the mountains of cars coming towards you in the opposite direction along a single track country lane with very few passing places. Oh did I mention it was dark and Friday rush hour too? There was stress. There were lessons learnt. And at the end of it all, sweet cattos waiting for cuddles and a nice glass of crisp white wine ready and waiting. Turning into that final driveway is like the gates of heaven opening. Sometimes being a housesitter has its challenges but chilling out on the sofa here, in front of an open fire, listening to Christmas tunes makes up for it all.
William The Conqueror pub, Rye. Drink of choice - spiced rum on ice. The fairy lights are magic, the music soft and soulful, the vibe chilled. Loving what they’ve done here.
About to drive to see my Buzz and go all goo goo. 😻
A special moment today - Zooming round the supermarket, jazzy Christmas songs playing and excitedly picking out a decadent tin of thickly covered chocolate biscuits. A luxurious, simple treat. Once a year. To share with the one I love. Let’s put the kettle on. Who wants a cuppa?
I love lying down. On the floor. And letting gravity take me. Through gravity I sink into the ground. Then my body opens. Every part. That’s when the healing comes. Because I feel free. And light. And at peace. I journey into the centre of my being.
Today I went into a pub and had Sunday roast and white wine from a beautiful glass. I feel intimidated walking into pubs. But this one was friendly. I loved seeing people coming together. Laughing, feasting, full of merriment. I love a good atmosphere. This pub had it in spades.
