Our snoozing, snoring and spuffling was rudely interrupted by our car alarm at 2.41am. Some sort of disturbance of the Force, certainly no thieving, but having to leap out of bed, armed with a rolled-up newspaper, did lead to a fascinating discovery.
Up until now, we assumed the cat slept 23.5 hours of the day, waking only to eat, poo and be stroked, though he manages to combine being stroked with sleeping pretty well.
But no. It seems that Cat likes to spend our sleeping hours running from room to room, probably snickering under his whiskers. Noel caught sight of him leaping across the spare bedroom then bounding down the stairs and back up again. Such activity is unknown to us, we thought he was just lazy. It turns out he must be exhausted. So what ELSE is he doing? Raiding the fridge? Having his mates around for a party? Drawing moustaches on our photos? A double life, we'll have to keep an eye on HIM
Today's lovely thing
Bride and Prejudice. Technicolour Austen!