04 December 2011

Rainy Sunday, landlord visit, & hairballs

Interesting day so far: woken early by cats, as usual; got up, let them out, topped up their food & water, smooched them, went back to bed (having stayed up late studying then ebaying, really needed more sleep). Late morning - a knock at the door. My flatmate's out, so I stumble out of bed, pull on my jeans (slept in t-shirt), open door to our landlord.

Not entirely unexpected visit, cos I rang him early in the week; he missed that call; I missed his return call; I meant to ring again this weekend. He's a considerate bloke, happy to just talk on the doorstep as it's an unscheduled appearance, but it's chilly, drizzling and windy, and there are things I want to show him, so I invite him in. Relieved to see that the place is reasonably clean & tidy (other than my bedroom, which I closed the door on – as much as I can, given the suitcase in the way).

I show him the broken towel rail in the bathroom, ask if I should buy a new one at Bunnings; he's happy with that, will install it himself. He's not even fazed by the enormous crack in the skirting board where my flatmate's picture fell down – says he'll fix that with some white fill (probably not the kind dentists use). I show him the wonky tap over the kitchen sink (glad I washed up), and the broken sash-cord in the kitchen window, both of which he says he'll fix next weekend. Little bit concerned that he's planning to do all of it himself, but we'll see how it goes.

Then I settle down to check my emails, look at my eBay lists, have some midday breakfast – until Rosy throws up. Her long fur is so gorgeous, but gives her hairballs quite often, despite my attempts to brush her. Usually she manages to chunder on the wooden floor (easy to clean, except if vomit goes into the cracks between floorboards), or a flat-weave rug, but this time she barfs on my flatmate's shag-pile (cotton, not wool, thank heavens) rug. Which I washed just recently. Oh well. I can probably sponge the stain out, now that I've wiped off the bile and blobs of fur.

After that, the three cats and I had a fun time playing outside in the chill wind (no drizzle at that point), then I came back in to work on my assignments – sorry, “assignment” singular – the last one! Which is why I'm posting here, instead of writing about learning environments and risk assessments. (does cat vomit count as an OHS risk? I s'pose it does.)

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