I honestly don’t know how my parents ever arranged a holiday. Particularly in an era before mobile phones and social media. How the hell did they relax?

~ theredoubtable

Dear R

Much as the idea of setting up nanny cams and laughing as the cats harass you appealed, I had neither the time or money (nor inclination to see your pasty arse on the way to the bathroom) so instead, I leave you this hopefully comprehensive set of instructions…

  1. Help yourself to anything in the fridge. No clue if any of it is in date.
  2. Help yourself to anything in the wine rack by the sofa. D has curated the selection.
  3. The breaker box is in the living room cupboard on the left, through the bottom shelf. You’ll have to drag everything out, but you won’t have to move the shelving itself (although the gap is carefully calculated to scrape your skin to the bone before giving you access – think Temple of Doom without the soundtrack).
  4. There is a shit-ton of generic antihistamine in the cupboard above the hob.
  5. The boiler (should you need to re-pressurise) is in the kitchen cupboard, by the window opposite the dishwasher.

Cat stuff:

Food

  1. They get fed twice a day – half a packet of the food each, every meal: once when you get up, (unless they wake you up by grooming your head or walking over you repeatedly. Just bite the bullet and feed them – it’s the only way you’ll get a lie-in) and again around 5.30pm (if you forget, they’ll shout at you). Just make sure that the biscuits and water are topped up for I-had-to-get-a-pint-and-now-it’s-late eventualities.
  2. Sammy likes to eat AAAALLL the food and then barf – that’s why it’s only half a packet each.
  3. Genghis is a bloody princess, so if she lurks at the end of the hall when you’re in the kitchen wrestling the Gourmet, she’s in a huff with Sam and wants you to take her bowl to her.
  4. Sammy will eat AAAALLL the treats. He particularly likes the stick things – but you have to break them up or he’ll try and swallow it whole / poke himself in the eye.
  5. Genghis will only eat Dreamies, but you have to put them on the opposite side of the coffee table / other side of our bed to Sammy’s ration or he’ll just bump her off.
  6. Feed them treats. They’re more likely to let you have a lie in.
  7. Only feed them 10 or so each at a time or Sammy will scoff them and then barf.
  8. Keep the water bowl and fountain thingy full and clean. There will often be a stray biscuit flicked in. If you manage to figure out who’s developed opposable thumbs, let me know…
  9. The biscuits for the biscuit bowls are in the grey bin-like thing by the window near the dishwasher.
  10. All this crap is on the kitchen table.

Litter

  1. The litter boxes are some fancy design that D chose – there’s two trays in each box with a lurid green sieve in between. It’s like panning for gold, but shittier. Clean them at least every other day – if they’re too manky, one of them will accidentally pee on the floor as they balance on the edge to avoid the lumps.
  2. Should one of them accidentally pee on the floor as they balance on the edge to avoid the lumps, there’s blue roll / wipes / anti-smell spray on top of the speaker by the living room TV.

Hordor

  1. Genghis loves the hat box on top of the hallway cupboard. The scuffling noise in the early hours is her scaling the coats to get in.
  2. Sammy loves the hat box, the wardrobes and wherever Genghis is. The thumping noise in the early hours is either her fucking off in a huff, or her pushing him off whatever she’s balanced on.
  3. Both of them love stretching out on top of the living room / kitchen / our bedroom doors. Be careful moving them – Sammy puts his paws in the gap because he has no balance / Genghis puts her paws in the gap so there’s no room for Sammy.

Say goodbye to normalcy

  1. Both will come with you into the loo. Sammy to guard you and Genghis in the hopes that you’ll turn the cold tap on a trickle so she can play with the water.
  2. Speaking of water, Genghis will try and drink out of any glass she thinks has water in it. She doesn’t like it when it has diluting juice added, but you might have to let her smell it so she’ll fuck off and leave you in peace.
  3. The box in C’s room is Genghis’ scratching post when she wants attention. Just ignore her. She’s bollixed the edges and I no longer care.
  4. Final water warning: they both like to sit in the damp shower after you’ve used it. No clue why. But they will shut each other in the room if you don’t either leave the door wide, or prop it open with the kettle bell. Please make sure all doors are open before you go out / go to bed.
  5. Additional warning: there are a number of regular passers-by who like to say hi to the cats every day. One toddler in particular comes into the garden to wave at them before and after school, as well as a sweet-but-odd young bloke from the local support unit. Just smile and wave – they’re all very pleasant – but do wear pants if the blinds are up.
  6. If they want something (Sammy needs the feather toy waived around / Genghis thinks the litter tray is overly full) they’ll talk at you and try and lead you to what they want. Ultimately, however, they just want to keep you company and kip. No walkies required!

Security:

  1. We always pull the blinds down and turn a light on in the living room when we go out – dead end street, occasional late-night loons, and some nutjob casing the place a week or so ago. (Got quite a shock when his nose was pressed to the glass and D stood up from behind the computer monitor).
  2. Bloke with 8” knife in the bin yards on Wednesday night. Police were looking for him, but be aware: it’s that time of year.
  3. Opposite flat is L and S with young K – lovely, currently have a set of keys, in bed by 10, do not need any drama. If it kicks off in the stairwell just call the police and let them deal. Get me a report number, though – the letting agent of the other flats is an arse.
  4. Above L and S: J. Also lovely. Keeps his MX5 on the road through sheer willpower. Has a social life. We have a set of keys for him as he locks himself out on occasion (he’ll pick them out of the bowl if necessary).
  5. All the other flats: students. All nice this year, although the noise in the stair does echo when they’re staggering in… Just ignore it. They pass out fairly quickly and you’re in C’s room which is out of the blast area.

Emergencies:

  1. If there’s an accident that requires a vet, we’re with McDs Pets and the travel box is in the living room cupboard. Sammy is easy enough to get in it; Genghis will fight you tooth and claw.
  2. Not unrelated: there’s a shit-ton of plasters and ointments in the bathroom cupboard.
  3. A’s numbers are: ***** ****** and *** ****. No emergency is complete without the addition of K-R doing small circles in the hallway.

Entertainment:

  1. There are several remotes in the bowl on the coffee table – you need the one with 1 red button at the top for the TV, 2 red buttons at the top for BluRay.
  2. Everything (Now, Netflix and Prime) is under SMARTHUB, but we’ve got Virgin for terrestrial TV.
  3. Help yourself to the PS4 – controllers are in the bowl and games are under the TV. Just create yourself an account.
  4. Router is by the printer in the living room – password is stuck on it: Silence of the LANS (We Can Hear You Fucking is upstairs, and refers to 3/1).

If you can’t find something / need to know something / have an urgent need for a cash transfer, ring me on FB.

Thank you for this – if I could figure out a way to bring you back a relevant gift, I totally would. But as I watched an 80-year-old woman get intensively questioned the last time I came back through Schiphol, I’m not even risking it, so you’ll have to make do with my eternal gratitude and the wine rack.

Love you

xxxx

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