Today some of the Cathedral Choir were shipped out to Darts Farm for some busking. They sang well even if they were a bit squashed! Hope they will do it again next year, it was a good place to go 
We were at evensong tonight; I often go on a Thursday and Friday anyway but Steve joined me this evening because Josiah had told us that he had a little solo. Just one line but he sang it beautifully … listen for the running down ‘holy is his name’ at about 1min09s.
In other news – I didn’t get shortlisted for a job that I really wanted. Perfectly happy where I am though so no worries really, just marginally disappointing and very annoying to not even get an interview. Kids all fine; Anna went out busking with school/choir tonight and had a nice time, Abbie is planning birthday events despite the fact that she’s had a birthday treat already, Josiah’s just chugging along with choir and school. Steve’s thinking of new ways to make a million, as usual … and Suzie is enjoying having a new catflap to the big wide world outside. She still comes to give me a cuddle every morning though – and hasn’t brought me any special gifts yet thank goodness!
I played the piano for my school’s tree decorating assembly today which was fun as ever, and we went out for a team Christmas meal this evening; I love Christmas, I really do. People think I’m mean for not really doing decorating at home, or presents at home, but I don’t think my children are going to suffer that much, honestly 
When I was 9, my grandma, Damo, died. We adopted her kitten, a beautiful little white cat called Topsy (I think there was a sibling called Tim, but we just had Topsy). Lorraine doesn’t remember her being a beautiful little white cat, only an annoying white cat who would always find navy blue items of clothing to sit on, but there we go, I digress. I loved Damo, and so her cat was special to me, and so I loved the cat too (probably less so as I got older, but my memories of my 9yo self are definitely that I absolutely adored her!).
Anyway. When the time came, my parents decided to get Topsy spayed, and so duly took her off to the vet. I assume I must have been at school as I don’t remember being involved in any vet visits, but I do particularly remember the cat coming home after the op.
She had the standard shaved flank and wound with stitches from the operation. Not only that, but there was dark red BLOOD on her white fur and pale skin. I guess it was perhaps the first time I’d seen a proper wound like that and I was so upset and outraged that someone could do this to my cat!! I don’t know how my naive mind had thought that they would do this procedure, but I certainly hadn’t prepared myself for the horrific (or so I thought at the time!) sight before my eyes. Topsy was so white, and the awful thing was so red and dark – it just looked terrible 
I ranted and raved, apparently, at my parents for letting the vet (a) do such a cruel thing and then (b) not clean her up properly – I don’t remember that particularly but I mentioned it to my Dad the other day and he remembers the event well too! I blame him for not telling me what to expect
Anyway. Suzie is being spayed tomorrow. This has brought the memory of Topsy’s spaying back to me, so I’m not really looking forward to picking Suzie up from the vets at the end of the day! Stupid I know, but these deep rooted traumas are hard to get over, you know.
I have made sure I’ve prepared my children