Friday, 4 May 2018

The Human Landing Strip

Soooo, Him Outdoors is outta town for a few days and I'm free to temporarily rearrange some details at Chez Hippy Hollow to suit moi while his back is turned. Excellent!

First to be dispensed with is the nightly mosquito net ritual. I can't bear the thing, finding it difficult to sleep in a cage no matter how ethereal and gauzy. HO can't sleep without one and it's a non-negotiable T & C in our home when he's here. To be fair, he is a veritable mozzie magnet, drawing them his way and while I'm the type O blood and the only potential (if absolutely bloody impossible now!) preggy person on the list below, I have a fair idea which boxes he ticks and working out isn't one of them! Let's just leave it as his wonderful aura, shall we?



Night 1 went like this:

23h12 - climb into the king sized bed. Claimed the middle and ALL the duvet. Smiled smugly at the neatly drawn back mozzie net. Life is good.

23h14 - Clumsy Cat performed her unique 4-paw landing, completely amazed that she is on the bed. Neither cat has managed to penetrate the folds of netting held firmly on the floor around the bed with weighted hems so this is a treat. And by the way, that expensive mattress that gives you a solid night's sleep even when the tiger climbs alongside - rhubarb. Our 3kg clunker cat sets up a bounce of note.

23h15 - despite having the build of a Massey-Ferguson tractor, Anushka is a cat with paranormal stealth. She discovers the bed is open and available but arrives so lightly I'm unaware of her presence until she brushes my arm with her tail.

23h16 - happy cat sleeping noises from the bottom of the bed while I stretch out to claim every corner for myself. Bliss

23h17 - the rising tempo of a mosquito on it's short final landing approach signals that the blasted insects were waiting, hovering somewhere in the hopes that tonight would be their night. 

23h20 - a squadron of mosquitos de Havilland would be proud of perform a series of descending circuits towards their target, my ear.

23h21 - flinging back the duvet, I grumpily tug at the satin ribbons holding the net and zip up the voluminous tent. Not happy.

23h22 - give my pillow a sulky punch and settle down again.

23h25 - NO! A single combat mozzie is trapped inside the net and decides to fight the Battle of Britain alone. All night. Have you ever tried to evict a single mosquito? Impossible. Sleep out of the question, I entertain myself with memories of a naked HO wielding a pair of underpants and chasing down the irritating buggers, before he upgraded to one of those electric tennis racquet zapper things.

The sticking point is, though, that HO has been proved right about the net and the blasted mozzies have ganged up on the opposing side! 

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