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Archive for the ‘Rolling Ells’ Category

I’m going to call it Tinkerbell. It has a collar and a bell – ptui!!!

It is insufferably cute in a black&white, dinky, feminine sort of way.

Marmers is acting like a very silly old cat: he mrrrrps, he meeps, he tries to prance along the fence and, in essence, he just looks bloody silly!

He is eleven human years old, stout in a Pooh-ish manner, with a decidedly floppy undercarriage and yet he persists in dancing, prancing and leering like a teencat. It’s DISGUSTIN’!!!

See for yourselves…

Well…I will tell you this, I never did see such brass neck! I was hardly under the gate before it was sneaking back into Rolling Ell.

No good will come of it, you mark my meaows.

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It has came to my attention that some of my fans are becoming rather too interested in the Marmers side of things: purrhaps I has bin a bit too generous with allowing his purrson to appear in my blog.

I am remedying this purrlous state of affairs forthwith! Time to redress the balance in favour of the handsomer one of us.

That’s me, just in case you felt like asking, “Who?” and risking a wallop around the chops in the purrocess…

There was a sunny day recently. No really, don’t laugh.

So I thought, why not have a quick wash and brush-up and give the Sun something to smile about.

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at last!
a pond skater
spring’s sprung!
three glass balls
elin isaksson
traps the light
white hellebores, hoods a-glow
nodding in the shade
“we bring light” they seem to say
sky-blue-sky
smiles brightly down on
sky-blue squill
electric lungwort
aahs over mossy paviors
at purple primmy
tiny buddos bursting out
two montanas a-
shinning up the pergola

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Twenty-one days…twenty-one flipping days! Call this winter? Where’s the green-ness, the dampness, the warmishness?

Coastal Living, coming to a magazine stand near you. Or possibly not.

Fpu is delighted to announce her printer ink  and Christmas cards are in a delivery black hole somewhere in Britain. Check status. Dispatched…Ho! Ho! Ho!

On the plus side, we are on mains gas and so far, nothing has broken down (paws, legs, tails all crossed touch fpu). On the minus side, we have a new cooker arriving tomorrow. Ha! And a Man arriving on Monday to fit it and take away the old knackered one. Ha! again. On the other paw, they are only coming from Standies and Balmullo respectively, so falling into a black hole is slightly less likely. Ish.

Here are some photos of the story so far…

26th November...the beginning

2/12 Day Three of digging out

2/12 Toytown shivers and optimistically puts out its bins

2/12 shoreline

7/12 Go away, I'm hunting!

9/12 watering can

17/12 moonstone pond

17/12 Life under ice

17/12 midday cat ice (aye right)

That’s the sort of cat ice no self-respecting cat would consider setting a paw on. Think I’m daft? Rat ice more like.

Marmers’ Rat Watch was unsuccessful – they just wait until he gives up, then pop out again to sample the fallen birdseed. Wir a’ Jock Tamson’s bairns.

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“Who killed Cock Robin?” “I,” said the Marmers,

“With my razorsharp claws, I killed him stone dead”

“Who saw you do it?” “I,” said FC,

“With my luminous ee, I saw Robin dee.”

“Who’ll be the Chief Mourner?” “Not us,” said the twain,

“If we got half a chance, we’d do it again!”

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I’ve had a bit of an eventful day. Traumatic isn’t in it. Down to eight liffs in paw-to-paw Mortal Combat, and I’m not even sure who won. I’m so shaken I’ve spent most of the last 24 hours snuggled up with mpu under an ancient raggedy-edged patchwork quilt trying to forget the Horror, the Horror!

Here are the few clues that greeted fpu when she came down from answering emails…

mud on the Amtico…

…mud on the shiny white windowsill and on the frame of Joan Holdsworth’s lovely glass picture…

some soggy fur…

…and some more soggy fur – my lovely fluffy tail, dripping!

more mud on the Catflap of Safe-Haven

and a well-deserved wee treat, donated a while ago by An Admirer

Such a nasty experience to meet one’s Major Adversary, Big Black&Fluffy ******* Cat, in the Jungle beyond the Catflap of Doom: we had a major stand-off and somehow found at least one of us (ie me) in the raging Burn of Extremity, swallowing quantities of river mud and nasty grimy water, which I purroceeded to vomit up onto nice New Poang (which was mostly purrotected by bb2’s old patchwork quilt – Phew!) and the floor.

In the interests of decency, we decided not to publish pictures of my quite nasty upchucking. Sorry to all those who are disappointed:-)

As those of you who are catophiles will know, we have very sturdy digestions and are tailor-made to throw up at every opporchancity, so, almost before I knew it, I was munching on a very tasty treat and feeling the lerv.

I left it to fpu to do the Molly Weir bit with the Flash on the Amtico and sloped off upstairs for a bit of R&R.

I am not venturing far, just yet *wee shudder*

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While the parental units were oot’n’aboot the other day, I was left In Charge of Rolling Ells: Marmers was designated Deputy Squeaker and carried out his roll by having an Extensive Snooze, as is his wont.

Naturally I felt it my bounden duty to patrol regularly, invoking the ‘sus’ Law with any Intruders. I felt a real sense of achievement when I was able to curtail the incursions of this big stripey fellow – who knows where such outrageous trespassing might have lead, had Captain KC of the CCC Guard had not been Alert!

He already had the torn wing that lead to his demise, honest guv would I lie to you? Nary a paw was laid upon him…

Upon the pu’s return, I purresented them with my booty, at which they cried out in amazement at my purrowess. At least, I think that’s how it went. The big stripy fellow was quite desiccated by then, so I was just tossing him about a bit for show…as you do…

Then, just as a sort of wee insurance policy in the event of Things Turning Nasty, I did that uber-cute rollover we innocent kitties do so well (and better than dugs because, and here’s the clincher, we don’t smell).

I think it worked…

Though you never quite know with bipeds. Funny critters.

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