Shortly after dinner, a bone-weariness came over me, the like I have not experienced in many months. A combination of factors could have contributed, not least the seesaw worrying/trying not to worry over Torgi’s health. He was behaving strangely over the weekend, not quite himself but not seemingly in enough distress to take him to the emergency vet. Even so, I had a relaxing afternoon in the company of crafty, crafting women I know, where I dutifully ripped out a whole bunch of Wrong Things I had knitted and put them right.
Despite the low-key day, by 10pm, I was ready for bed. And Torgi, as if on cue, resurfaced from his funk to curl up with me.
Bedtime in our house is Torgi-time. His purrs nudge us gently down the stairs of sleep.