Unexpected Rainbows

Sometimes life throws you an unexpected bonus or – if things have really been bad –  a consolation. For example, the other day I had to wait an hour at the hospital for a blood test, and the buses home only go once an hour. I sat with my torn-off paper ticket (number 106 in a queue starting at 85) and I sat, and I sat, and finally I got behind that blue curtain to get my blood test, one minute after the bus was due to have left. I trudged to the hospital bus stop and found nobody waiting. Yes, my bus had definitely gone. And then there it was, like magic, my precious bus coming round the corner, two minutes late. Did you just do me a good turn? I asked the universe.

And today I have rainbows. I put some sheeting stuff up at the kitchen windows – it’s clear, textured plastic, held up by nothing more than warm water and washing up liquid, plus suction. The reviews on Amazon did mention rainbows but I hadn’t seen any. Ah well, I thought, I am now invisible to the neighbours and vice versa, and that’s all that matters. Privacy is restored.

I have this thing, you see, about eyes. It feels as if I am caught in the headlights when someone stares at me, and particularly if they persistently stare at me. I read somewhere that in the 17th century and earlier, people did not yet understand about light and vision (I believe it was Newton who eventually sorted it out) and actually believed that people ‘saw’ by sending out an invisible beam from their eyes. In other words, their eyes were sending out light rather than receiving it. John Donne uses this to good effect in his erotic poem The Ecstasy:

Our eye-beams twisted, and did thread / Our eyes upon one double string…

Anyway, although I am a Thoroughly Modern Post-Newtonian Person and know that nobody is actually fixing me with their X-ray eye-beams, that’s what it feels like. In some sort of psychic or psychological way, it hurts. And similarly, if I am forced to stare at someone or even see them when I don’t want to, it hurts. Without intending to they are invading me, and the space around me, just by being in my line of sight.

So, given this weirdness, which seems to be  one of two absolutely fundamental and incurable issues with me – boundaries and visibility – I more-or-less solved the problem by buying two rolls of the plastic stuff on Amazon. And today, finally, the sun shone brightly enough through my kitchen window to create those promised rainbows.

Sorry it’s cats again – and sorry for apologising since I know from previous feedback that this is British of me – but sorry, anyway – but cats is what I have a lot of and cats are what I spend most of my day either feeding, tripping over or being sat-upon by. I just saw these rainbows on the cats – and on the floor – and decided I must try to capture them – for posterity – for this electronic treasure trove of ours – and for – not having to wash up a whole sink load of cat dishes for at least another five minutes. So much more fun to tiddle about with photographs.


Plastic rainbows on my grubby kitchen floor (hence the vignette filter causing a convenient Darkness on the Edge of… um, the floor tile)


Henry in his basket, bedecked with rainbows. Suspect he cannot see them, as I read somewhere that cats can only see in shades of blue and lilac. This seems like a terrible disability, if it’s true, but it doesn’t seem to stop them catching mice.


 Henry – more rainbows.


Martha -no rainbows, because being a tortoiseshell (calico) she carries one around with her.


Rosie – no rainbows, just because I love her, and she’s getting on a bit now. Rosie was rescued from a road in Norfolk as a tiny, sick, dehydrated kitten and brought to me on a hot summer’s day, in a cardboard box with no proper air-holes, all the way round the M25 and beyond. She is the inspiration behind my blogging name: Rosie2009 and the reason for much subsequent confusion.

9 thoughts on “Unexpected Rainbows

  1. Your incurable boundaries and visibility issues are very much like that of the more perceptive and thinking adult cats (and not least of all when a camera is being leveled at them). Those issues are very like my own, too, and no doubt like that of many great writers (Caryll Houselander as well as Emily Dickinson springs to mind), but certainly like those of 3 of my children (the girls), one of whom gave it honor by calling it being introverted, God bless her! Husband has no boundaries and cannot be visible enough; it’s been a tad tricky! Our house has been a downright sanctuary to most of us, wherein eyes are not welcomed. To husband, though, it’s a wide-open nest. We have found a homeless guy coming out of our downstairs bathroom, or bumped into Trick-or-Treating teens in our hallway, who were so silently awaiting husband’s return from the basement with promised brand new flip-flops for the barefooted kid amongst them who’d initially thought it the height of coolness to go around that way on a dark and cold late-October eve. Aw, your cats (and their rainbows) are/were lovely. 🙂 Dogs have their own unique gifts (and smells, lol), but cats give, too, and can be hilarious and rewarding housemates (and playmates). I will always miss them. Enjoy. 🙂

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    1. Yes, it’s not something I have thought to write about before. Some things you are born with and either assume that everyone else must be the same, and therefore will understand and give you the space you give them. And then they don’t, or only that blessed one in a hundred does. And then you are silent. You make yourself transparent, in a way, so that you can’t be singled out and attacked, but after a while you even lose sight of yourself…

      Wittering again! On the subject of the boundary less husband, that can sometimes the best combination – opposites. They can deal easily with the things you can’t and you can show them the world from another angle and sometimes act as the voice of reason and moderation. I see it like they are your sail, but you are probably their anchor. My parents had that kind of marriage, and I had a relationship like that once (though not with Ex!) 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

      1. He’s a morning person, I am pretty much a bat. He was once Republican, I always went the other way. He has type B- blood, I have A-plus ;-). He liked and likes the Ralph Cramdens of the world; I’ve thrown my lot in with the Ed Nortons. We’ve each gotten much worse, but we both still like the Beatles and John Denver, so, nobody has had to be beaten with my shillelagh.

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