Everybody seems to be exhausted. The priest is exhausted because he is all alone in the parish and Easter has been an especially demanding time. The vet is exhausted because of the lambing season, which began recently. The grocer’s wife complains of her aching back as she usually does at this time of the year. She swears to give up this bloody business: meaning the shop. The shop that is otherwise known as the apple of her eye. I mumble soothing words. Queen Cat is exhausted of three days of constant rain. Queen she is, she utterly despises wet feet. I am exhausted of a long night-shift and a couple of other things I am too tired to name. The priest sighs. Queen Cat yawns and the vet falls asleep on the sofa before I even lit the fire. The grocer’s wife complains about her daughter. ( Things with the electrician which had begun so promising last autumn have cooled down recently.) I mumble soothing words while buying another broccoli for today’s supper. Two hours later two miserable men chew veal and dismiss the broccoli. Queen Cat scratches me badly because I dismiss her from the table. I said it before I am not happy to cook without being praised for my efforts. But today I am out of luck. The vet gets up, still chewing and leaves for the lambs. The priest gets up not much later returning to urgent church matters. Queen Cat pretends she doesn’t know me and I am all on my own with cleaning the dishes. Next Sunday I swear the, the kitchen will remain cold. I am exhausted but then I remember that there is homemade vanilla pudding in the fridge and a fruit-salad in the pantry. Then I close the door and when the phone rings and I see the vet’s number blinking on the screen I pretend not to notice. I too, have learnt from Queen Cat.

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