The Spectator and Private Eye have the best cartoons. Its worth subscribing for them alone. And the current Speccie has a great cartoon I would love to reproduce here, but probably shouldn't for copyright reasons. I wonder if they would mind.
Anyway, it portrays a gentleman who is fast asleep in a comfy armchair beside a roaring fire, with a plump cat watching him speculatively from the floor. The caption is Target Seat
Wonderful. Spot on. And it reminded me of our fierce old Saudi cat Whites. He had a very effective Target Seat technique. Back in the days when we used to entertain and had friends round most nights, if anyone was sitting in the particular chair he fancied, they would be eased out of it in such gentle careful stages that after a while it seemed they had always been sitting on the floor in front of a chair/sofa with a large white cat comfortably ensconsed.
Wonderful meeting Thursday night - but a lot of empty spaces in the Hall. So many of us are off sick. I had planned to be out on Thursday with another sibling, but we were both ill. And the sister I usually chauffeur to the Hall was sick too and decided to stay home and listen on the telephone link.
On Friday I had my third medical appointment of the week! Poor old NHS. Anyway, I am to persevere with the new med for another month and then if I am still feeling sick and a bit dizzy, make another appointment and my GP will change the med. He wants to keep me on this if possible as it is, apparently, doing its job very well. He thinks I may have picked up one of the bugs that is doing the rounds, and for sure a lot of people are not well at the moment - see above.
Jacks came round last night - for chicken pie (again) with cabbage cooked Madhur Jaffrey style (with carrots, chile and coriander) and sweet potato. Pen phoned to update us re Ken and I must ring this afernoon when I get back from the meeting. We are in the throes of it now as we all get older - feeling the full force of the Biblical warning that, as the moment "death reigns as king over us".
My mother, crippled by the family arthritis, only lasted till 74. That does not give me a lot more time.
How short oue lives are now. And how deeply grateful I am that Jehovah sent his Witnesses to my door, or I would now be overwhelmed by it all, instead of feeling full of hope in spite of it all.
Which reminds that Jean and I managed an hour and a half on the preaching work yeserday - one very long return visit.
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