Jets, cat’s ears and other matters
With all the celebrations going on over in Panormitis, I spent a very quiet day at home yesterday, working. Looking out from the balcony (the day was warm a little humid and very pleasant) the harbour was like a ghost town, I only saw a few people moving about. The bus was running though. The village was quiet, apart from a few people passing the door on their way to a festival somewhere no doubt.
Mind you, we had a bit of shock when a fighter jet flew low overhead on Monday afternoon, doing barrel rolls and, I assume, wishing the island well for the festival. Crickey those things are loud.
So, a Xronia Polla to everyone celebrating their name day at this time and maybe I’ll go to the festivities next year. I have to say, it has been nice to spend the time at home, with peace and quiet, getting on with what I wanted to and needed to do, though tonight (Tuesday as I write) I may pop out for a drink at the Rainbow just to set eyes on other living beings. The only company I’ve had for a while has been Jack. Mind you, that’s often enough.
I’ve been looking at his ears and his slowly growing skin cancer. We may have to take him to the vet before long and have his ears taken off. Yesterday he scratched off one of the black scabs and left the skin exposed and bleeding. I’m keeping an eye on it for infections and I can, if I am very sneaky, get some cotton wool and dab on some antiseptic but, if you’re ever tried putting cream on a cat for any reason, let alone on an open wound, you can imagine how traumatising it is – and the cat doesn’t like it much either. Every now and then I see a blood splatter along a wall, or over the floor and wonder who has been murdered, but then realise it’s just the cat scratching his ears and then shaking his head. Ah well, a little warm water and a sponge and all evidence is removed.
So, apart from corrupting crime scenes, risking life and limb with some Savlon, or similar, and listening to the eerie silence of an apparently empty village, these last couple of days have been very productive. Not with walks and new photos for the blog, hence the old ones, but with words and stories. Perfect.
