Day 28 – Coldplay – Clocks
The opening piano on Clocks is wonderful.
This song is so infectious that I had it as my mobile phone ring tone for a while. It was one of those old Nokias and I had to painstakingly type it in, a kind of crude version of the tune.
Mates and work colleagues took the piss but I didn’t care.
Coldplay are one of those bands that people love or hate – I love them – Mrs PM isn’t too keen at all and this song drives her up the wall.
So back in 2002, when the song was released, we moved into the house we live in now. And the family increased by two.
That’s right – we bought two black kittens from the Cat Protection League, which in itself was a bizarre experience. Mrs PM had always wanted black cats, so I called the charity and was told that a representative would come to visit us and check us out.
The way it was phrased, it appeared as if we were being scrutinised to see if we were suitable “parents”.
And that’s exactly how it was.
A woman called on us armed with a book of photographs and then interviewed us in our own home. She had long grey hair and looked at me in particular as she asked the questions, probably because I was the less enthusiastic of the two.
“Do you consider this to be a dangerous road?” she asked me.
“Not really. It’s not a main road is it?”
“This IS a dangerous road for cats,” she replied, shaking her head in disbelief. “Just count the cars that go past.”
I did – and there seemed to be quite a few.
She then continued the interrogation – er sorry – interview – asking questions about how we would look after the cats.
I wanted to jump up and scream at the woman: “Look – I have owned a cat before. I know how to feed them and how to look after them. I will not harm these animals. For Pete’s sake – if you think we are unworthy then I’ll just go out and get some kittens from somebody else.”
I didn’t say those words. I just nodded when she suggested that the cats should be kept in ( “House cats are better” she said), knowing that I would let them out because that’s exactly what cats want.
Eventually, Mrs PM chose Jasper and Poppy, whom regular readers will now be familiar with. A couple of days later, she brought them round and sat with us in the lounge just to make sure that we knew what we were doing.
“I have brought up two kids. I KNOW HOW TO LOOK AFTER A BLOODY CAT!!!!”
I didn’t say this at all – though the urge to do so was almost totally overwhelming.
She stayed with us for one hour – ONE HOUR!!!!
When she finally left, I allowed these two delightful little creatures to roam our house and have fun doing so. They were already house-trained, which was a massive bonus.
And the woman even rang us up a couple of times to ask “how the kittens were settling in.”
“I’ve fed them to next door’s dog,” I said.
I didn’t really.
At the time she rang, I was reading in bed and had Jasper on my chest and Poppy was sitting on Mrs PM purring.
And they have been with us ever since.
Here they are, as they were in 2002:
I was going to tell you something about the house we live in but I got carried away with our moggies (as I so often do).
Well at least that gives me something to talk about in tomorrow’s post – unless I start waffling about the cats again, of course.
