A week or so before that my mum came round for dinner, armed to the teeth with feline pest-nuking chemicals, boldly announced to Nimbus that she was about to de-bug her, and Nimbus made her displeasure known by puking up twice on the kitchen floor, doing a frighteningly noxious poo in her litter tray while we were eating, then staging a rooftop protest which lasted all night. The timing is a little odd because, at the grand old age of twelve, she is very much in her golden years rather than being a hormonal teenager. Perhaps this is the onset of feline dementia? Who knows?
In the end I did absolutely zilch in terms of ritual or spellwork, partly because Nimbus was so un-cooperative, partly because I didn’t really have any other pressing needs at the time, but also because I fell ill as soon as I returned from Thorpe Park. I managed to muster up the energy to make my mum a cup of tea and have half a glass of wine (HALF a glass – see, a sure sign that all was not well), then immediately had to lie down.
Poor Nicky was then left to cook our Solstice dinner, of which I managed to consume a very modest portion, and then I collapsed on the sofa and napped again, unable even to stay awake through the genuinely riveting Euro 2008 Croatia-Turkey quarter final which ended on penalties. I drifted in and out of sleep and recall that nothing happened for ages and then all the action hit in the last half hour, but nothing more than that – boo again!
At the time of writing this instalment, the weather is actually much brighter and more pleasant … but my hay fever is playing up so badly that I’m still not capable of doing a great deal. I think the higher powers are definitely giving me a message to leave any ritual work for a little while, so I will do exactly that. I am now looking forward to Lammas, its lovely golden, earthy tones, and the fact that I will have some time off school to reflect and plan properly … |
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