Marcel in Oz

In my relationship in Korea we had one child, Marcel, who was both the apple of our eye and the bane of our existence - those who have harboured Siamese in their homes know there is the predelication towards violence.

Marcel would attack with a ferociousness only matched by our affection for him - and surely rooted in our inability to spend more of each day showering that affection on him.

And I am sure that all of his vigour and strength is being called on these days, as he now lives downunder, where wrestling kangaroos must surely make up a significant percentage of his day.

I don't know why, but today I am feeling the need to reach out to people. I am sitting at my desk loathe to work - although I will buckle down once the post button is hit - and wishing I could be in a warm cafe with a friend, a crib board and a hot cup of coffee.

Or that I could go home and have a warm, furry companion greet me at the door and settle on my lap as I read "The Wind-up Bird Chronicle," study my Korean or veg in front of my TV.

We are all essentially alone, I know, but we need to mitigate that condition by building bridges to those we brush up against in everyday life - virtually or in the flesh.