Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Twenty-twelve!

Happy New Year! Whatever day it is. According to Digicam, it is the third, but my calendars (two cat, one Shetland, one Australian, one lugger) say it is the second, so take your pick.

Time’s only a concept, after all…

Nothing much is happening here. I’ve been behaving impeccably, as always; Marmers has been ‘stremely annoyin’, as usual, and there was some quite bizarre behaviour among the humans on the cusp of the New Year. The latter has been documented elsewhere, and I don’t feel it’s my purrlace to publish embarrassing photos when fpu has already done it.

Here I demonstrate my uncanny ability to sense the purrescence of photographic equipment…

I did have fun!

But, yesterday, on the first of January Twenty-twelve, Marmers really got up my dainty pink nose.

I am still incandescent with rrrrrrrrrrage: the lovely hanging bed that fu got me last year in a stack-em-high-sell-em-cheap supermarket that has been Only Mine ever since, MY furry radiator bed…he USURPED it, INVADED it, bleedin’ NICKED it.

And then had the cheek to pose POSE for a photograph.

The furry BASTARD!

His coup was brief. Fpu removed him to a chair, some hours later, and re-instated me to my Rightful Purrlace.

But, Dear Reader, I suffered.

 

I thought, there’s no-one around, I’m just here on my own, where would be a nice cosy place to have a wee snooze?

In the kitchen there’s this Thing, big and white, with a round door like  a hobbit hole; ever so inviting, full of the fpu’s claes and just the right size for a kitty to kurl up in.

So I did. Or at least, I did try to, but no sooner had I popped in, that the blasted Paparazza was there in force, camera in hand, making silly propitiatory noises like, “Ooooo who’s a cute kitty then. What a ickle-wickle cuddlekins it is,” and other utterances too nauseating to repeat.

However, the one exhortation which galvanised me into action was, “Don’t move. Stay right there.”

Naturally I immediately exited said Hobbit Hole with alacrity, leading to the following dog’s abuse, “I said…$*%T!!! You goddam fecking hairy basturt you!!!”

Mee-hee-hee-oww:-)

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.

I am always rather puzzled by some of the things bipeds get up to in the interests of relaxation: me, I just curl up somewhere warm and have a wee purr with my lovely green eyes shut. What more could one want?

So here we are, all cosied up on the sofa in CookieCutterCottage, having a bit of a snugfest…

…however, when the view is extended, you will see Flickery Thing, with a picture of what I believe is a ‘lead singer’ (whatever that is) singing a ‘song’ (HA!) called ‘The Fog On The Tyne’ on something called an Old Grey Whistle Test. And, incomprehensibly for someone in a tiny hot studio behind a lift shaft, wearing what I believe is called a ‘beanie’ hat – though what they called it in nineteen-canteen, guid kens…

…and here I am doing my Feel The Lerv Look and doing it rather well, though I say so as shouldn’t.

I never did learn if the purrson in the beanie passed the test…though there was one interesting line about kippers which got my vote.

In A Museum Garden

It’s been an interesting ‘summer’ in the Museum Courtyard, what with the ongoing weeding, the depredations of the May gale, the miserable damp weather and the Installation by Keiko, which is the best thing to happen so far, because Keiko  likes plants and has shown true respect for all the tiny things growing between the cobbles.

Which is more than can be said for a few brats…

She has even put protective bits of ballast and old roof tile around some that might otherwise have been trampled by careless feet coming to look at her work.

The feet purrobably weren’t doing the looking, it was much more likely the persons attached to same… Clarifications&Corrections R Us.

This sunny box under the wooden walkway suffered least from the wind and the lobelia and nasturtiums went a bit mad. But in a nice way.

These plastic ‘window’ boxes, probably kindly donated, are too small to hold their water and were very badly hit by the storm, just after planting. A bit stunted, but hanging in there. Watered regularly by Coull Deas MBE, fisherman retd age 86. Some kid!

Fishermen’s Association Pittenweem fishbox with rampant nasturtiums. The lobelia, alyssum and pansies got a bit swamped, but the bumblebees, hoverflies and butterflies love nasturtiums and Empress of India trails everywhere in an artistic sort of way.

The fenders, nets, kist, basket, ballast and rope look in keeping, but possibly not the watering can and wheelbarrow!

Just to round things off, here’s a gratuitous photo of Reaper’s sail, hoisted at a recent event in Newburgh, taken from the companionway.

CCC Colourfest

Marmers and I are feline a bit spoiled. CCC has recently acquired one new patchwork seat cover; one extremely coloursome knee-blankie from Busy Fingers of Eek and a rug, which inexplicably matches Marmers.

The greeny-bluey bits match his eyes in case you were wondering. He’s not mouldering…yet…

I try not to feel a leetle huffed at all this Marmers-related stuff, but it’s not easy, even for a cat of my Zen-like nature, and the only way to redress the balance is to hog various of the new situpons when he isn’t. As even a cat of his avoirdupois can’t cover all of them all of the time, this is not unachievable, but requires careful planning and frequent recces…

Marmers snoozes on Old Blue

new multicolour ninepatch seat cover

marmers is nowhere to be seen and anyway, am I bovvered? naw! ‘m havin’ a wash.

fpu’s nice new knee blankie (well, that’s what she thinks)

and again…lovely lovely colours, ain’t they? (and by the way, Jill says it’s a cat blankie, so that’s that)

feckin’ poseur! lookit the smarmy marmy look on it’s face! gurrrrr…

…where’s my matching runner, hey? ’tisn’t fair mutter gurrumble grrr…

Cool as a Cucurbit

I’m really not sure why this picture is so big. As you can see, it is quite a large cucumber anyway. So far fpu has had it in salads, stirfry and soon, curry. Then purrobably salad again…

There’s only so much cucumber one person can eat, without repeating herself *smirk* However, Marmers and I are nothing if not gentlemen, so we desist from comment.

When her-two-doors-up presented it, she commented thet fpu wouldn’t be able to get her hand round it – laughter ensued. Marmers and I are still awaiting enlightenment.

We are not amused…