Sunday 28 October 2018

Chill House Casey



Chill House Casey ©
By
Michael Casey

Well I’m sat here on a Sunday, everything is set up so away I go. The chill is the Winter sticking it’s tongue out at us. We are settling in, Totoro spent her first full night Chez Casey, and true to habit woke me up in the middle of the night to be let out the window. However in this house I have no window to let her out of. So I have to put a dressing gown on and go downstairs and let her out the backdoor, so she sniffs the night air before leaping on the high fence. Claiming the High Ground, maybe she was in the Army in another life. If Jim Mathis had a cat no doubt Totoro would be it, a one woman killing machine, just rodents.

So I’ve had another nap in my shop window of a bedroom, everything on display but nothing for sale, nor past it’s sell by date. The pain levels have been off the scale in the night, so as the dawn chorus arrives sleep finally descends. Totoro wanted out so I let her out and had a drink of water while she tightrope walked the garden fences, sniffing the air, trying to work out how far away from home she was. First she was here then she was there just like Totoro in the studio Ghibli cartoons. My small daughter named her well. I stepped outside and my assets were frozen immediately, the cat has a fur coat, I have regrown my body hair 4 years on from being shaved prior to my bypass operation, but I could not accept the cold. So I just flashed my bare bum to the moon and went inside, there was a noise, a startled fox had just fallen off a back wall in disgust.

Totoro returned, she was happy enough, she’d scout the land later, and as for that Hound of the Baskervilles, she’d have him for breakfast, once she finished her ten hour sleep. In the middle of the night once sleep had engulfed me I went for a tinkle in the bathroom besides me. I wondered what the smell was, and no it was not me, despite my 3 hard boiled eggs. Totoro had left me message, no, not Totoro kills rodents so stay out of my new house. Something much more pungent, this cat had not sat on the mat. This cat had poohed in my bath. At least it was not on the carpet. So gluing the door shut I retreated or rather stumbled back to my bed. In the morning the children would pay the price for cat ownership, cleaning it’s bum. Practice for when they had real kids.

The kids beds have these storage drawers underneath, and for the cat, for Totoro that’s a nice warm environment. We thought she had gone AWOL, in fact she was on a Mathis Mission, SLEEP, stay low evade  enjoy pillows.Or a storage box under your owner’s bed.

My small daughter has been catching up on her films now that the Broadband is back to what it should be. We have yet to install the family tv, so it’s like a mini break from my normal glut of news. But like MacArthur I shall return. Mac Arthur is an even drunker bigger brother to Arthur the scrap metal dealer who lives down Skinner’s Lane, though Sinner’s Lane is a better description, I won’t elaborate. Jim Mathis might blush, or zoom his satellite to see if he can see me scaring foxes in my back garden in the middle of the night.

See I still sidetrack myself, it’s because I’m happy,and my best position is on my lap, no nothing to do with Korean lap dancers. I mean I enjoy writing with the keyboard on my lap. I do need a cushion to sit on though my chair is not as soft as before. Otherwise like an Oriental playing an ancient musical instrument I sit here talking to you with the keyboard spread over my knees. Draw you own cartoons, that’s why I call these conversations, Cartoons made from Words.

Justin is singing behind me, Mirror, I’ll wait till he finishes before I carry on,he’ll cry if I tell him to SHUT UP, Artist at work. He just put his tongue out at me, I’ll go to the fridge and get the frozen lettuce. If I slap his bare legs with it he’ll soon respect The Silver Haired One, as my Korean fans call me. Justin in time, he’s finishing, yuc there was a snail on that lettuce its slithering up his leg towards his naughty bits. That’s how Justin hits the high notes, a slippery snail meeting his big relatives.

So we are all chilled,not as chilled as that snail, but real chilled. We are all at home in our new HOME. Just in case Jim Mathis is a fan of my writing, Donald told me to tease you, so please just laugh, besides Donald said Micky Mouse and the Pluto were big fans too. Or have I just revealed the code names for the Langley top brass, oh Totoro.












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It's me Michaelgcasey@hotmail.com the fat silver haired writer in shades from Birmingham England

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