sixes and sevens

I felt at sixes and sevens today, as my grandmother used to say when there was nothing unidentifiable wrong, just something seemed out of place.

Then I figured it out. I've admitted to being neurotically neat and the object was to get out of the house quickly. My housemate had an appointment with her therapist and I was going to go with her to meet the woman and to set up an appointment for my first physio.

The doctors want me have to nine treatments along with radio to reduce risk of my arm swelling, etc. I'm still sensitive in my upper right arm in the way one would be toward the end of a black and blue that one would be aware of if one pressed on it. I was told this was natural. It also makes sense not to press it.

Then on the walk back to the house I realized why I was at sixes and sevens. The cat had been on my bed as I was throwing on my clothes. The cat is a barometer. Had their been no chance of rain, she would be out making the garden safe from birds, mice and other living creatures.

I hadn't wanted to disturb her.

She was still asleep on the unmade bed when I came back.

I've beautiful new pillow slips and duvet cover in maroon and pink that match my colour scheme. The set was a gift from my housemate for Christmas. The only problem is the cat sheds white hair on the maroon. The solution was to lay the afghan I'd knitted from scrap yarn in a strip, the way I had seen a friend in Alexandria VA do.

The cat will sleep on that. If there were a hankie on top of the afghan she'd settle on that, and if there were a stamp on top of the hankie that would be where she would select.

I'm sure she's shedding on the afghan too. I just can't see it, leaving me neurotic need for neatness in the if I can't see it, it won't bother me category.

A few dirty feline looks were telegraphed my way as I disturbed to return my room to the order I like. When I finished she returned to the bed and fell asleep on the afghan.

And I have my first physio tomorrow with or without the cat on the bed.