In the
wee small hours
Damp leaves . . . be careful of the sweet chestnut husks . . . they're still sharp
Gilbert usually sleeps through the night, waking around 6:00
a.m. We are very grateful for that.
On Saturday night, well, Sunday morning, really, he woke at
3:00 and he and I stumbled downstairs while the Lord and Master snored on,
accompanied by Roxy and Herschel. It’s quite a chorus when they all participate.
A lesson from Roxy in how to whittle
I say ‘stumbled’ but that’s not strictly accurate. Gilbert is
keen to race ahead, but isn’t allowed to. I concentrate on not tripping over
him or my feet or anything that might present itself on the stairs, like
Jellicoe, always alert for food and assuming that if someone is awake, it might
conceivably mean a meal is in the offing.Anyway, Gilbert trotted into the garden, did what he had to,
came back in and refilled his tanks from the water bucket. We then went back
upstairs. All was as we had left it, everyone sleeping peacefully. After a bit
of ‘bitey’ from Gilbert, something he does when he’s tired, and easily remedied
with a chew toy, rather like a dummy for a baby, we drifted back to sleep. No
problems!
It was a different story last night. Gilbert woke at 1:15 and
we traipsed downstairs, leaving the rest of the mammals deep in the arms of
whoever it is, oh, yes, Morpheus. Gilbert went out, came back in, forswore a
drink of water and prepared to return to bed.
While he was out, I looked for Jellicoe. Usually, he’s asleep
on one of the chairs, but he was nowhere to be seen. I checked the conservatory,
although that’s a bit chilly at night for a fussy cat. I looked at the tops of
the kitchen cupboards but he wasn’t there, neither was he lying on top of the
grandfather clock. The radiators weren’t on, so he wasn’t resting there,
either. I felt the first twinges of alarm. Cats tend to hide away when unwell,
and an absent cat augurs problems. Jellicoe had been extremely ill a few months
earlier and I feared a recurrence.
Quietly, not wishing to
disturb the peace – well, apart from the snoring – I called, ‘Cats, cats, cats.’
There was a thump on the bedroom floor, soon followed by the surprisingly heavy
footfalls of Jellicoe. I hadn’t realised he was on our bed. Herschel, of
course, slumbered on. He’s driven by comfort and warmth, while Jellicoe’s
motivating force is hunger.
Feed me . . .I was relieved to see our little cat, and, of course, had to
give him a treat as he had come when called. Then Gilbert and I trailed back
upstairs. There was a little ‘bitey’ play and he fell asleep. It was now 1:45.
When not campaigning for food, Jellicoe enjoys relaxing on the bridge over the pond and indulging in some ornithologyOur animals like to be close to other living beings, either of
their own species or another. Gilbert’s head was resting on my leg and Jellicoe
was pressed up against my side and next to Gilbert, while Herschel maintained
his position next to Barry. I wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep but
couldn’t. I was very warm, with two virtual hot water bottles alongside. I tried ‘counted breathing’, which almost worked but suddenly there
came into my brain an old advertising jingle.
‘You’ll wonder where the yellow went when you brush your teeth
with Pepsodent’. This advertisement first appeared on our screens in 1957. I
don’t remember anything about it other than the refrain.
Attempting to stop the incessant repetition of this jingle, I wondered
which other advertisements I could remember. In 1958 we had a P.E. teacher
called Mrs Bradshaw. Unfortunately for her, that same year a washing powder
called Surf was advertised featuring ‘Mrs Bradshaw.’ Our teacher withstood the
ridicule from know-it-all adolescents with remarkable aplomb, at least, in
public.
In the 1960s a carpet cleaning liquid was advertised that
claimed to clean ‘a big, big carpet for less than half a crown. So, the adverts
that lodged in my brain were all to do with cleaning things.
By 1973 the focus seemed to shift to comestibles (love that
word - so quaint!)
Strictly speaking, lemonade is not a foodstuff, but R. Whites’
advert of 1973 featured in my recollections in the wee small hours. 'I'm a secret lemonade drinker - R. Whites, R. Whites'.
‘Everyone’s
a fruit and nut case’ came along in 1975, and finally, before I fell asleep
just after 2:45, I was humming along to ‘Just one Cornetto’, which appeared on
our screens in 1982.
Amazingly, all these things are still available. It is
possible to avoid televised advertisements now, so I am not au fait with current advertising
trends, but I wonder if any of them stick irritatingly in the brain and if they
achieve their aim – to part people from their money? There is one I sometimes hear
and which annoys me and that is ‘Go compare.’
Are you resistant to advertising?
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