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Posts Tagged ‘joy’

It has been brought to our attention (mine and Marmers’) that our Antipodean pal, Roy, has been asking of our whereabouts over on MadLamb’s blog (that’s what it’s called, but we all know it is Mistpurr Spock’s blog really) so I thought it would be nice to update him on our doings and goings and comings as it were.

Having moved here to our new Wee Hoose, Lintrollersquoy, over on the sunny Firth of Forth in February 2012, we are purrty much settled in, though not really chuffed with all the upheavals re knocking down of walls, blocking in of doors, hoicking out of chimney breasts, building of sheddage and as for the garret…don’t GET ME STARTED!!!

The one bit of jinery of which we both appurrove is of course what Spock would call the ‘flappery’ in the back door, but the wild disruption of New Kitchen was almost a pawprint too far for cats of a nervously genteel disposition I can tell you!

This and the following photographs will be old hat to our Facebook Friends, but this is just for Roy…

 

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snoozy-puss

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I rest from strenuous sundry choppings, pokings and polishing the hearthstone

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a warming New Year image for downunder

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an extremely tasteful repurresentation of moi

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St Andrews Day at the Scottish Fisheries Museum, Anstruther

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Posing elegantly in front of Wee Stove: we have since moved all the logs and briquettes away from the stove on the advice of Lynn who sold it to us.

What lucky we posted this photo on Facebook or there may have been an unintentional conflagration and a short-lived residency in Lintrollersquoy.

Happy New Year to our Chum in a Land Downunder!

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Boy was I a thrilled kitty to come in through the Catflap of Destiny and discover fpu had just finished preparing six bonny bylte lobsters: my timing, as ever, was impeccable. Or so I thought…

Lovely, just!

Whoosh! I was up there faster than a punter up a hooer’s draaers!

Don’t get aerated, it’s just wee bits o’ taes, ken:-)

Unfortunately, I disrememberated© munching on some gress all-too-recently *sigh*

So glad there was some left over…not complaining like, but that fpu was just a bit quick mopping up the womit: it was very fresh…

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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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It takes all sorts of cats to make a world. Take my mate Marmers – oh go on, purrleeeease.

No, I mean metaphorically speaking, take my mate Marmers, he’s a laid back kinda guy, likes his R&R (pretty much to the exclusion of all else), does a bit of eatin’ a bit of sleepin’ and a lot more diggin’ than is stric’ly necessary, but you won’t see him strollin’ along the High Street acting Mr Kool, like some cats I am too modest to name.

This is more his bag. Or basket. Fpu was not thrilled to see His Lardship snuggling into the clean laundry…and after all that folding too…

Other more energetic, puss-about-town types purrefer to stroll along the West Shore, taking in the evening sun and generally socialising, posing, perambulating, that sort of thing…

See? I’ve tried explaining to him, I’ve tried showing him How It’s Done, but to no avole; he’s just that sort of cat, the kind that won’t budge, won’t try something a bit adventurous, a stick-in-the-mud.

I’ve got a thing about grey cats…

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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.

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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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WordPress is playing silly beggars with me and not letting me arrange my pics as I purrlease. I am slightly irritated, but nothing a small Laphroig won’t put right.

Wait just a cotton-pickin minute, cat’s don’t drink whisky;  it’s almost as if someone is using me as a medium to reach out to the World, but that can’t be right, can it? I feel a bit spooked…

Anyway, above and below this text which may or may not be being brought to you by a very distinguished kitty, are two images of my mate Marmers, sunning himself in the herb gerding this afternoon: it felt like summer, and we flang the doors open wide to let the warm pellucid air into CookieCutterCottage.

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