Bump - down to earth

The prawn lady (my mother) came to catsit while I was away. Although they were spoiled as only a grandmother without any real grandchildren can spoil a cat I think they missed me. All night long one or other or both of them would jump up onto the bed and stomp all over me, purring into my face and demanding some more affection. So it was that I arrived at work sporting two heavy black suitcases under my eyes, an ugly red scratch wound across my nose and a tan that is slowly turning into a blotchy smudgy dirt colour.

"You look well" everyone says pretending not to notice "where've you been?" and then the obligatory Agadoo tune follows.

By about 11am I finish sorting through my emails and realise there is lots of work to be done. By 4pm I am still working flat out and wondering what can be left till Monday. By 5.05pm I am fighting my way through the commuters and onto the train while at the same time wondering if I have even been away at all.

Scar Face

The blind cat has done it again! Glad to be back in my nice comfy bed after the long journey home from Agadir I was awakened by the cat jumping up onto the bed. This time he landed on my face and his claw made a scratch across my nose. It didn't hurt much but there seemed to be a lot of blood so I sleepily reached for a tissue, mopped it up as best I could and went back to sleep.

This morning when I looked in the mirror I was horrified to see that my lovely tanned face has been mutilated. Two days ago my nose was a bright shiny red beacon that Rudolph would have been proud of but that I couldn't bear to look at. Now that it has finally stopped peeling and turned a lovely shade of tan it is completely ruined by the ugly red scratch across the top.

Agadoo

I've just got back from a week in Agadir, Morocco. Strange how every time I mention it someone starts humming the words to Agadoo. I did hear that song every night at the mini disco but my boyfriend said I couldn't join in even though I was wearing a mini skirt and anyway I would have felt a bit too tall.

Usually, all-inclusive hotels follow the same sort of pattern. An intrusive animation team that try to get you involved in everything from aqua aerobics to bingo, the same team staging rediculous cabaret shows in the evening followed by dancing to music that you can only contemplate when you are completely drunk on free beer. The food is usually barely edible, the same dishes being served up every day or added to something else and served up again the next day. NOT THIS TIME! The animation team were all really friendly but not pushy. The food was excellent, freshly barbecued in front of you with a wide choice of salads and delicious cakes. The snack bar by the pool made fantastic pizzas. The evening entertainment may or not have been any good, I really dont know because it was all done in French. Almost all the other guests were French and we only met one other English couple the whole week. Quite a nice change if I'm honest.

Really liked Morocco. The people were friendly but without pestering us as has happened in Egypt and Gambia. We felt safe to go for our long walks and for once I didnt even trip and sprain my ankle. Agadir only gets a cursury mention in most travel guides but I really liked it. Yes there are the tourist hotels at one end along the beach but if you walk into the town, the souk or the fishing port you can get a really good sense of the Moroccan way of life. We didnt get around to any of the many excursions so Marrakesh will have to wait till another time.

The weather forecast was completely wrong thank goodness. Rain had been forecast for the whole week but by the second day the sun came out and we got really sunburnt. Happy with that one day we didn't mind that it rained for the next two days - our frazzled skins could not have endured any more sun at that point. The next day the sun came back with a vengeance and got hotter every day.

A very enjoyable and relaxing holiday - exactly what I needed!

Cat-astrophe

The cats have got to go for their annual checkup on Friday. This has to be planned with military precision because they somehow always seem to know. First you have to lock the cat-flap without them noticing because if they get outside there is no hope of ever catching them. You will have already closed off all the bedrooms as it is almost impossible to coax them out from under the bed unless you have the assistance of some strong muscle to lift it. Once you have caught the cat you then have to endure the scratches and struggles as you transfer it into the cat box. With mission accomplished and with a hard heart you have to try and ignore the pitiful mewing as you drive to the vets.

Strangely, once the cat is up on the vets table it is transformed into an obedient puppy. No mewing, no struggling and the vet is allowed to prod and probe with no fuss at all. The worm tablet goes down a treat without the resistance I get when I try to do it at home. For the rest of the day I am the evil one, no matter how much I bribe them with treats, and then suddenly all is forgotton until next year.

Last year while driving to the vets I kept getting honked by a lorry behind me. I was driving slowly and carefully because of the cats so what on earth could I have done to upset him? He started flashing his lights and so I pulled over and waited anxiously, expecting to experience road rage for the first time. He pulled up alongside me and was laughing and pointing to the roof of my car - I had only been driving with my purse on the roof for the last 3 km (thank goodness it wasn't one of the cats!).

Spa Faux Pas

The first time my sister and I went to a health spa we were given a pair of green plastic shoe coverings on the way into the changing rooms. For some reason, and with noone to tell us otherwise we put them over our feet, donned our cozzies and set off for the jacuzzi. Strange, nobody else was wearing anything on their feet. It was then that we realised they must have been for putting over your shoes in the locker room - how rediculous we must have looked and how embarrassing. We are going back this week - hope we are not recognised!

How the City has changed

We were having a discussion yesterday about how few Japanese Banks are left in the City. It reminded me of my very first day at work in the big city of London. In those days more than half the staff were Japanese and the cockney lady I was to be working with soon took me around to meet everyone. I felt like a giant, towering over every single one of the Japanese staff who bowed and smiled and bowed some more whilst having great difficulty pronouncing my name. My first day was also the first day of the new year and promptly at 11am we were all invited for drinks in the director's offices to celebrate. Afterwards we all went across the road to the pub. Excellent. My drinking career had began.

Back then people used to smoke at their desks and each ashtray was jammed full of cigarette butts. There were few computers which were linked to a huge main computer that filled a freezing cold room and was cared for by a man named Dennis. Everything had to be entered into the computer twice so that any typing errors could be picked up and all the computer reports were on thick reams of green lined paper that often got jammed in the printer. All the books were balanced manually in thick ledgers and people communicated by telephone, fax, telex or (perish the thought) by post. The hours were 9 to 5 and we had punch cards to sign in and out. There was always a queue at 5.14 as people waited for the clock to turn 5:15 because overtime was paid for each 15 minutes of extra time.

You didn't need a degree to get a job. Instead you started by making the teas and if you showed any initiative you would be able to work your way up, learning all aspects of the business along the way. In the peak of the eighties, most lunchtimes were spent in the pub being wooed by "loadsamoney" traders who thought nothing of buying champagne all round. These were the same guys who had started out making teas and shining shoes for their predecessors. Big bonuses, big mortgage subsidies, interest free season ticket loans, pension plans, offices parties........I'm feeling a bit nostalgic tonight.

Bruised again!

In the early hours of this morning I was awakened by a sharp, piercing pain in my left arm. The blind (and very fat) cat had mis-judged his jump up onto the bed and instead his claw had sunk deep into my arm. There he hung, dangling from my arm, his feet not quite reaching the floor until I was able to extract him - both of us quite traumatised by the event. Boy did it hurt and now my arm is riddled with puncture holes and bruises and my eyes are all puffy from lack of sleep.

Talking of bruises I have had a massive bruise on my left shin since before Christmas. I really don't know how it got there but it is obviously something I must be doing regularly for it to still be there in February. Wierd.

It's true that I have always bruised very easily - not good news for someone as accident prone as me. My poor mother spent my whole childhood worrying that the social services would come and take me away.