Home again

Well, then. This afternoon, I returned home after spending the weekend at my mum's. I was rather looking forward to getting back, since it was to be the first time in recent memory in which I have not had a sink full of aging dishes to ignore or any other mess at home.

Or so I thought.

As I walked in, I heard a rather insistent meowing coming from the back. That isn't all that unusual - my cat always mews insistently when I get home. While ironing the laundry I brought back from my mom's, I went to my bedroom to pick up some hangers. The bedroom door had somehow come closed (how, I have no idea, because I only shut that door to go to sleep at night), and my cat had been locked in there all weekend.

She seemed OK when I let her out, and I held her for awhile once I got the laundry squared away. Then, after dinner, I went back to my bedroom to go online and check my e-mail. While rearranging the sheets a bit, I discovered a wet spot. My cat, it seems, had soaked my bedding - up to and including my dryclean-only feather comforter - while sequestered in the bedroom. I certainly can't blame her for it. But DAMN.

If it's not one thing, it's another.