supermouse

I'm on the tail end of an all nighter, having been crying on and off all night. I think it's a combination of Moth being gone and other things getting on top of me. Pol woke up at 5am and heard me sobbing. He came up and I cried on his shoulder while he made it all better.

Spice has now been here four-and-a-half days and, while still not entirely relaxed, is becoming pretty mellow about the big scary humans. We took her away from The Best Human Ever. I'm not The Best Human ever, but she's willing to forgive me. Pol is a bit more scary, but she now wanders up to him as a matter of course and follows him downstairs for breakfast, and he can play with her - in fact, she expects him to before and after work now. She's seen much less of Random and is still wary, as far as I know.

She has carried things around in her mouth, but doesn't properly play 'fetch' - things get carried to her favourite disembowelling spot instead. I lost the laser pointer, which is a shame because it was a great source of exercise for her (she's slightly podgy about the waist). Pol's ordered seven more, as well as a box of 150 ping pong balls. My room is covered in screwed up pieces of paper. She gives a high-pitched burbling chirp when she wants to play. Pol is astonished at how quiet she is - quieter still after she removed her collar. I haven't been able to put it back. I can hold her and pummel her but I haven't got four hands and two humans together is far too scary.

She only seems to eat much at once if someone is standing by her. Otherwise, as far as I can tell, it's all snatched mouthfuls. Great for her waistline, I suppose, but I want her to feel comfortable. Pol, watching her, thinks that the tiles are cold and unfamiliar and put her off. She does relax completely when in my room, and I can more or less do what I like with her, although she startles easily. She is very cuddly indeed if I am lying down in bed reading a book.

She loves stairs as much as if she'd spent her entire life dreaming about one day having a flight of stairs all her own, and now she's got two. However, when she runs down them very quickly, she manages to frighten herself and bounces down the last few with her tail bottle-brush fat. Then she bounces right back up them again for the next paper ball.

I went over to Nottingham at the weekend and saw my family, in stages, then Cwol. I came back to find a book I'd meant to give Cwol, sitting there looking at me. I might ask Pol nicely to take it with him when he drops off my sibling's books. It wasn't the best of visits: everyone was tired and I had the most thumping headache all day, I think because of the extremely wet weather.

Today has been bright and fine, and I've been able to do loads. I tidied the sitting room up. When it's tidy, I want to spend time there, and if I am sitting downstairs, then all the housework tends to get done in the ad breaks. I also cleaned the kitchen, folded Pol's laundry, sorted out the blue sofa as much as it can be sorted out and planted out bulbs. I need more compost.

Now I am upstairs. I discovered Moth still sitting quietly alert in exactly the same place I left her hours before. Even with the strong painkillers, she's clearly reluctant to move much. She's also having trouble scratching herself and walking around on the duvet - her claws catch in the fabric as if she can't quite keep them retracted any more. I put her on the bed and spent a while scratching her head, which made her very happy. She just wandered off for a while and limped painfully back for more head-scratching. I suppose that's me here for the interim then.

I've been at home a week. I should only have been home a day, but I ended up not going onwards to London after all. I had a weird combination of ME/flueyness and extreme homesickness. The latter swung it - ccooke and Ruthi are amazingly able to accommodate an MEish and fragile house guest. Even so, I've really mostly been asleep so it's as well I am at home.

Moth's back from two weeks in a cattery. Yet again, she looks slightly healthier than when she went. I'm brushing her more, since I think that must be the key. She's lithely skipping about the place, all grace and fluffy, thick fur and purring. She's making it clear that she loves us very much, but that the accommodation isn't what she's now used to expecting. I should ask them what their secret is, really.

Pol's not happy with the hot weather. He's got a new aircon after the old one died and I am resigned to it taking first place in his affections until at least September.

Oh yes, that's what I meant to do yesterday and forgot - arrange shopping to be delivered today. Oops. If I am quick, that could still happen. And, if I water the strawberries, they might not die.