Barlow

Not my cat. He belongs to N, my friend who lives in Brighton (Hove Actually) who some of you may recall was the husband of the lovely A, who sadly died last year after collapsing while walking on the South Downs. Anyway, we regularly meet up for lunch with N which is lovely for all of us in lots of ways. We talk about A a lot including laughing at some of her habits that N has picked up over their years.

Today we went back to his flat after eating way too much to watch the last of the Lions' games. It was better than last week (not hard) but the result still wasn't great.

Barlow is the brother of the two cats A and N got just before she was taken ill. He's not a kitten any more (and was almost a father with his sister at one point during lockdown when the vets weren't open to chop his bits off and she was getting a bit hormonal).

The extra is the view from N's window (ignoring the scaffolding) showing the typical summer weather today.