do you like my new colour? i spent ages on this colour. when you find a good colour there's only one thing you can do - contrast it against black and white. and the colour that was there before that you didn't get around to changing.

did i tell you the old school gave me 200 pounds for my trip to indonesia? it's very good, that. i can finally say i did some fundraising. i have to write a report, less than 500 words, by the end of february, which i must say, i'm very looking forward to. reliving the scene.. i was thinking of sitting on those steps just the other night. happy memories. "there y'are, julie." "there y'are grilly." "here i am yvonne." ah, those were the days.

so, i was walking back from co-op, with a carton of organic whole milk, and what do i see ahead of me on my quiet back street pavement but a girl lying on the floor! "are you okay?" i ask, but she cuts me off, as she sees me and stands up.
"hello. you look a little taller than me."

when faced with something that one does not understand, it's amazing how well one copes. it just flows past you, different parts of your mind take over and looking back you think of all the things you should have said or done.
you see, these houses have subterreanean living rooms, with sunlight only from a window that looks at the ankles of passing neighbours and car headlights (it's the angle). being a pit by the side of the road, these things get filled with litter, so many people fit a pane of glass or a wire mesh over it to stop things falling down. Jess's solution was the effort-minimalising cover up scheme; by putting a piece of cloth over the lower few inches of the window, all the terrible waste disappears from view. fantastic. this lassy here, though, had a different kind of litter down her pit.

"there's a kitten stuck down there."

not the babiest of kittens, but definately a tiny cat, lost early in the morning (about nine o'clock, see below). she had removed her grating to get down to it, but couldn't reach it, with her short arms and amble bosoms. i get on the floor and reach down, but it won't come to me, not realising the danger it's in. i go further, but i soon start to take risks with my balance, so i ask her to hold my legs. it seemed so normal, and innocent at the time. she grips them and i'm able to slide further in and grasp the blighter. she tries to let it go, but it makes a move back towards the pit, so we check it's collar - "monkey" - and she takes it inside to ring the owners. and i never saw it again.

imagine coming down stairs for your cup of tea, opening the curtains, and there's a bloody cat staring you in the face. that's the crazy world we live in.


i've been waking up ever day at eight o'clock this week, and its great. it's a new step for me. the day is so long! the morning sun so bright! the opportunites for helping girls rescue kittens are endless.