The cat has been sitting outside mewling for me to let him in and feed him. He's been sitting under the lounge windows where I have a luscious border of lavender in full bloom.
He's clearly been wandering in and out of the lavender (probably terrorising the bumble bees that have been humming around the blossom all day).
Right now he's sitting in my lap purring away, and smelling of fragrant lavender.
While I acknowledge that this may mean I'm an ghey, there's something extremely relaxing about stroking a lavender-scented cat on a sunny summer's evening while sipping chilled champagne and listening to Mozart.
You can now all fUck off.