Sleeping with a serial killer

After a weekend on the slopes of Kvitfjell (I could have said the OLYMPIC slopes, but I have never skied down the actual competition slope, too much of a chicken), including a lovely dinner with T & T & T & T at their apartment close to the hotel on Saturday, we left for my home town.

Hm, well, saying that I grew up IN AN ACTUAL TOWN would kind of be taking things a bit too far. I grew up very much on the outskirts of this town. In the middle of a field. As a friend of mine said when she came to stay with me at my parents' place the night before one of her skiing competitions, and she was not able to fint the place: "I did not believe people could actually live out there". Hah. YES, they can. And it is pretty idyllic, too.

And, as a kid, I think it helps you build character having to ride your bicycle for at least a couple of kilometres to have anybody to play with (apart from the boys next door, but they were not that fond of playing with my Barbie dolls).

I am fortunate enough to have a client in the area these days, so I could work at their head office (yes!) during the first days of Easter. Which means that I could stay with my parents for three days. Which beats staying at any spa for weeks. I find it a bit difficult falling asleep when staying there, as everything is SO QUIET. And - it gets SO VERY DARK. But when I fall asleep, it is like being in a COMA. No trams. No being woken up by drunken neighbors shouting in the hallway. Or flushing of toilets.

The only possible disturbance might be the cute, but extremely violent, cat -jumping into your bed to cuddle up on your feet.

Zzzzzzzz.

.

In the country-side you keep a cat not just for company. It is an outright necessity. You need someone to keep the mice out of your house. Our current one, however (conveniently carrying the same name as all of his ancestors, the Norwegian equivalent of "Kitty"), is the most blood-thirsty  "trigger-happy" (if you may say that about a CAT) I have seen so far. A real serial-killer. He kills for fun. And he even enjoys playing with his prey before they die. He will go after anything. Biting the head off squirrels is a favorite. And birds - of any shape - and size. Once he tried killing a pheasant. We should be glad that he has stayed off the peasants... So far.

I guess I should sleep with one eye open. In case his instincts suddenly kicks in during the night.