The fat indignant tabby was not around when I got up. This was mildly worrying, since she wasn't in evidence for the latter part of yesterday evening either, and she is normally very keen on breakfast, and not at all enthusiastic about the great outdoors. She spent most of yesterday morning locked in the laundry, having managed to sneak in and tuck herself down the side of the washing machine, where she lurked with great satisfaction, until it got to lunch time and she wanted to be let out. That is pretty much the fat indignant tabby's idea of a perfect morning, hiding in a warm dark room with no other cats, and then having an excuse to be martyred about being locked in.
I checked the laundry, and downstairs in the garage, but she didn't appear when I opened either door. I looked on the dining chairs, and the places where she normally sleeps, in case she was having a lie-in, as she sometimes does. People who write of cat's constantly keen senses and instant alertness have not met our tabby. I even opened the front door and stood in the drive calling her name, with no result. I couldn't think of anywhere else we'd been yesterday evening where she could be locked in.
Then as I sat down to breakfast, there were feline wails from the larder. Larder makes it sound grander than it is. It is a cupboard in the kitchen, with outside ventilation, where we keep what is called in the grocery trade ambient food. I opened the door, and out came the fat indignant tabby, who had spent the night nesting in the deep litter of reusable supermarket bags on the floor. I couldn't see any obvious signs of an accident, but left a note for the Systems Administrator to check. So much for the risk of food poisoning from my contaminated multi-use bags. They might also be drenched in cat pee.
Work was rather quiet. Now that it is November, we don't start until quarter past eight, and finish officially at four. I meant to ring yesterday to confirm that, but forgot, so had to work it out from my record of last year's chargeable hours, which dropped from 8.25 to 7.00 as of November. That's compatible with an 8.15 am start and 4.00 pm finish, with three quarters of an hour for breaks. No afternoon tea in winter. If we had a staff handbook, as the manager came back from his management training course saying that we should, then the hours of work would be in it. Since it is now some weeks since the management course and there are no signs of anybody writing one, I assume it won't happen.
My allotted job was to clean up various herbaceous plants in the plant centre and put them under cover in the polytunnel on the far side of the car park in Bed 1 on the left hand side. Or at least I think it was. The manager's hand writing is not the clearest. I went and looked at the tunnel, and wondered which one Bed 1 was. There were some faded notes of jobs to do written up on the whiteboard over there, but no map showing bed locations. It sounds ridiculous that after working for the firm for a decade, I still don't know the bed numbering system of the polytunnel, but the tunnel is the manager's domain, aided by his loyal helper, and the woman who works on The Other Side. I try to have as little to do with it as possible, since experience has taught me that if anyone except those three waters anything, or moves anything, they will be scolded for watering it too much, or at the wrong time, and the thing they moved out for sale will have been deliberately kept back because it was reserved for somebody, or because while it had flowers it had no roots, or it was needed for splitting. In the end I looked at the map of the irrigation system in the pump house, which had a Bay 1 but not a Bed 1, and took a semi-educated guess. It was probably wrong.
Although our nominal finishing time is 4.00 pm, the owners like someone to stay until it gets dark. They will not pay for extra time on the timesheets, instead, whoever stays is allowed to come in late another time. I don't find that a good exchange, myself. What am I supposed to do with an odd extra half hour in the morning if I leave the house late because I stayed late the night before? It isn't long enough to settle to anything, when you know you have to go to work shortly. And if I'm not due at work for another week then by then everyone will have forgotten that I stayed late, and just think I'm late to work. My colleague offered to stay behind tonight, which suited me very well, since apart from anything else I had to get home and clean myself up for the music society fund raising supper. Another car drove into the car park as I left, but I hope the people knew what they wanted, as it really was about to get dark.
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