Cats, Creative Clutter & Grey Hairs

This will probably be a bit of a waffle post. (And sorry, not waffle as in food). But as I try to recompose and write about the day when I turned at least five years older in a blink of an eye, there are a few issues that need to be explained and mused over. And in the end of this I think everything will be clear as crystal. Kind of. So here goes. With the three main ingredients being clutter, cats, handyman. And a phone that didn't work.

A as in annoying) My regular phone hasn't been working for over a month now. It's mainly been very annoying and I really don't like to be depending on the (expensive) cell phone. On the other hand I've perhaps managed to do a whole lot of other stuff than talk on the phone. Maybe.

This phone not working is a recurring thing since three summers back. Every time it starts raining heavily during summers the phone stops working. And I can't say Telia - the Swedish publicly owned telephone company - has been of much help either. As usual they're not very cooperative and more than eager to lay blame somewhere else than owning it. The only thing they're really good at is charging a whole lot for their *services*. This is something I could whine a lot about, but I just can't be bothered. Now.

Now I'm only going to mutter about the fact that they said a telephone repairman had to have a look indoors. And as usual when it comes to handymen one had to put a whole day on hold since they *couldn't* be specific about the arrival time.

B as in bagging) Whilst I today found myself in a situation getting at least a hundred new grey hairs wanting to evaporate, I also knew the whole silly thing was something I would find rather amusing later. Hence I'm writing this, for strictly rejuvenating reasons.

I also realise this probably isn't amusing to everyone. For example it will definitely not please the finicky clean freaks who think the only reason for having animals indoors is to serve them on a plate.

Feel free to wrinkle your nose and think I've only got myself to blame. Because I agree, my creative clutter, procrastinating personality can become a bit too much to deal with sometimes. That's exactly why doors is such a good invention. Locked doors. And panic bags.

And a house that offers space enough to store panic bags and keep certain doors sealed for some eyes only. And when I feel so inclined I save, throw, sell or give away the stuff and feel good about myself for a while until other stuff demand to move in, settle down and create clutter. Can't help it, it's in my genes and that's that.

C as in cats, of course, and a bit of clutter) Then we have clutter meets cat. Most people with more than two, three, four cats or whatever are breeders of pure breeds. And even if we feel ourselves - or any other intelligent non-breeding human being with a bunch of furry friends in the house - being quite sane and *normal* there are (believe it or not) some people out there who react rather weirdly when you mention the number of cats you share your home with.

Hence many of us tend to be rather low key about our chosen, and lovely, lifestyle when in company of... not-so-open-minded people. And that's no biggie, I suppose, can't like all, can't love all, can't stand everyone's views and the way they chose to express those (rusty) views, if one would to tell about the hobby / lifestyle oneself has chosen.

But then we have those times when there isn't that easy to be low key. The times when you need to have handymen of all sorts in your home. Nowadays, the only furry creature being completely obtrusive verge utterly annoying when guests and handymen arrive is loaf doggie. The cats that roam my house these days have adopted, when not asked otherwise, a much more laid back (well behaved) attitude. Just the way I like it.

I've heard amazing, laughable stories of cat-people (as in ordinary cat-loving people and not anything like the ones in the movie) trying what they felt were creative ways of concealing the specific amount of more than two, three, four, whatever cats in home when handymen arrived.

But really, to be honest, who cares what handymen or others think of the amount of cats or other pets you chose to have, as long as they are taken care of in a loving, responsible and proper way ("they" as in the cats not the handymen). Who cares if they return to work describing millions of cats in one's home to their colleagues. Who. Cares. Your life, your home.

But. Then there is this *minor* thing about reasonable and logical thinking concerning chosen lifestyle and the amount of cats and clutter vs the f-e-e-l-i-n-g of sheer horror when you realize that the handyman in question demands access to room/s which are sealed for some eyes only.

D as in D-day) Today was such a day. I know there's only one telephone jack in this house (built in the late 60ies), computer and such demanding access to the broadband via telephone net-work get that through cords leading from that particular phone jack. Hence that's the only jack the telephone repair man needed to have a look at is that one in the hallway.

Or so I thought. Suddenly he was really adamant that there must be more cables and jacks and hey presto was demanding access to one room I'd rather not (to put it mildly) he went into.

You can't, there are cats in there. (I have cats, lots of them and they live in one closed room and they are aggressive/scared/mutants. But other than that I'm pretty normal).

(Eyes like question marks) I have to, there's one cable that doesn't seem to work going into this room.

There are no other cables or jacks than this one in the hallway. We have looked. (Getting slightly upset about the fact that he wanted to go into that room, which by far isn't the worse room it's just that it's at this moment in time a strictly cat room and I know there were some fur balls I hadn't cleaned up and oh yes, the litter box and that old, nasty arm-chair they love so much and it's just in pieces all over the floor and it's been a while since I removed cat hair from the scratching post and well, when did I clean the window last, had I watered the plants and... Does this mean he wants to trace all the cables in every single room of the house? I'm now going to evaporate).

I need to have a look. There are cables in this wall.

Then I have to clean up a bit before you can go in there. Please wait.

While I frantically tried to make the room a bit more handyman representable and felt myself getting instantly at least five years older, I can also safely and soundly say I at the same time felt it was one rather entertaining and *slightly* over-reacting situation. See above thoughts on reasonable thinking.

As it turned out a few minutes later, the handy handyman didn't even, after all, have to access the not so representable room. He just snipped some cable and huzzah phone worked again.

Since surely this over-reacting, having clutter and cats can't be my fault, I'm now contemplating a lawsuit against Telia for giving me a generous amount of grey hairs, at least five years added and a day wasted. As well as causing mogigraphy.