Cat on a wet tin roof.

I wish I were a cat.

Not the furry bit and wet nose, I could do without all that, though I reckon a tail would be fun.

No, what I really like is the way you get to sleep outside all the time.

I’ve been trying – if you follow these pages you will have seen that I moved out of the house into the open on the sixth of June and give or take a few nights when rain interfered and the nearest shelter was the house, I have stayed there.

I have two possibilities if I want to sleep outside, three if I count lying in the hammock. Four if I consider lying on the grass.

The first is in the “pavilion” – a net construction suspended from the oak tree.

The second – and last night’s choice –is inside the van with the back door open wide to the night.

The van is better than it sounds – ok it’s not the Ritz but it is equipped for living and once, another story, was home.

From the bed you can see the stars through the trees, in the morning the rising sun will wake the sleepiest head, sometime during the night a cat might join me.

If it rains the roof plays music.

Tonight, although I am tempted to stay, I will return to the house. The moon is nearing full and although the day has been warm, hot and inviting the night has an edge of chill.

Only a cat can resist.