Posts Tagged ‘escape’

I just thought it would be nice to go for a bit of a scan around from the roof of Auld Shed: it was a lovely evening, I was feeling bouncy & sproingy and in need of a teensy-weensie frisson of excitement.

So up I jamp

Now what, I pondered?

Strangely, when I decided what I would do, fpu’s response was less than favourable!

It wasn’t long before I discovered why. Within a nanosecond of fpu and digicam popping in our back door, Mrs G (ID concealed to avoid litigation) shot out of hers like one of those weather-people (one whose outlook is always overcast and showery) and I careened through the Flapperchancity as if pursued by bears.

Should you want to see my own ‘Thoughts of KC’ just do that mousie-hovery thing over each image.


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At last! I have a brand new climbing frame to play on/in. What a time it’s taken! I purrsonally didn’t mind the concrete/bits-of-laminate floor, nor the tiny cooker (what’s a cooker to a cat, after all) nor the bare bits of new plaster, though I do draw the line at dust, and there was more than a little of that, but I really missed the High Ground for doing a bit of Lithe Leaping and Lolling on. Now that my cupboards are in and the table&chairs released from someplace called Storage, everything is just tickety-boo.

Best of all, I can escape Moitherin’ Marmers; his physique *chortle* doesn’t allow him to do the Triple L and he stays firmly rooted to the seablue vinyl.

Here I am responding in my usual helpful way to Fpu’s appearing with Digicam…







There’s a very very odd thing at the turn of the stairs…think it might’ve fallen out of Desperate Dan’s Peh. Just as long as it doesn’t tomber on moi.

Au revoir.

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I wull tell you this, the noise! the stour! the Disruption! It was awful.

Fpu swanned off to St Andies and Guardbridge, leaving m’Marmalade Chum and me to face the music. And the end result??? A huge draughty hole in the sitting room wall! Wtf was that about? And what is a sensitive feline to do?

This is what we did. Purrfectly sensibly, we decamped to the spare bedroom and curled up on some old friends. Like you do…

comfee and cosee and trying to ignore Things Going On Below

Here’s lookin’ at you…Marmers, put your tongue away!

Marmers shows his disdain and also his lovely clean toothypegs.

All quiet today so far…

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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!!!”


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On Wednesday, Marmers had his toothypegs scaled and polished. His molars had tartar all over them, the durrty sod that he is! As if you’d catch me with mucky teeth! The very idea…

This entailed him being deprived of food from midnight, trapped and incatcerated in his basket at 9am, and transported to Newport  in Purple Sweetie. He tried to evade capture, but fpu is versed in the ways of Marmers and grabbed him by various bits prior to insertion.

He was collected at 4pm with his Paperwork, which mentioned that he might be a bit dozy and wobbly and probably not very hungry. Aye right. This is Marmers we’re talking about. Within moments of being set loose, he was twining himself round fpu’s feet, purring like a big bumbleerie; no sooner was dinner in the bowls than he had his face in his, chomping his Whiskas with gusto; by the time fpu got back from Montrose Folk Club later that night, he had divested himself of his wrist bandage and we had had a jolly good game of fitba with it.

As you can see from his attitudes, he is not a big fan of cat baskets…


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This is a gentle blog: there will be no terrifying things, no horrifying things and no wee corpses. that’s not to say there haven’t been any, just that this is an Autumn Ramble, meant to sooth, calm and relax the viewer.

No snoozing at the back there!

So, anyway, I set off on a ramble around my locale (as the estate agents will have it) having left my deceptively spacious home (ditto) in a much sought-after-seldom-to-market pocket (likewise) last weekend, leaving bb1 In Charge.

I decided to Poison The Pigeons in The Park first. It was a tad disappointin’ to find they were mostly ducks and black-headed gulls without their black heads with not a pigeon in sight, but fpu explained that pigeons don’t swim…so that was alright.

those ducks had backbone (well obviously, they’re vertebrates:-) because I wouldn’t like to have tangled with all those skrekkin’ things with ‘stremely sharp beaks!

aren’t they tasty cutesy!

sensible duckies head towards the Source of Bread, leaving the melee behind

After feeding the plump duckies and skrekkin’ things, I set off along the Prom-tiddly-om-pom

some of the many marina boats hauled up for the winter

Broughty Ferry


four trees

it’s got eight legs, it’s black, is it the Giant Pidey of Destiny? Nope…it’s the battered brolly of experience:-)

playing fields

the Giant Cupcakes of Ferryport

so…you go left on a red bicycle, right on a green one, right to pee and right to travel til foots

so who worked it out?


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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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