“You’re slow as molasses.” I used to hear that a lot. My mother used to say that I went any slower I’d stop. I’ve always been slow moving. I prefer to say I am measured in my steps. The truth is, I’m ungainly and klutzy. Speed is dangerous, because I fall over easily. Slower is safer.
At school we all move 100% top speed. We’re busy. I make my feet and legs go as fast as they can to get up and down the long hallways. So much of what I do is “to-the-minute” I have to hurry.
But summers…I can go as slow as I want and it doesn’t matter. I walk slow and I dress show and I eat slow. I ever turn over in bed slow. I like slow.
My kitties are doing well and as I mentioned earlier this week Murray is fitting in well. He now seeks me out for grooming and hugs, and even better, he purrs.
But some things still remain the same. One day this week I awoke to him on the bed with Bert on the other side. I liked that, it’s the family bed and they can cuddle whenever they want. The minute I woke up though he was off like a shot. He seemed embarrassed to be caught in a sentimental mood, lol. Murray usually doesn’t get on the bed and sleep when I’m on there or when one of the other cats is there. And today, the two older cats were snoozing on the bed and Murray was on the couch. I wish he’d relax enough to allow himself to sleep with the other two, and me, more often.