Posts Tagged ‘move in’

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…











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



a warming New Year image for downunder


an extremely tasteful repurresentation of moi


St Andrews Day at the Scottish Fisheries Museum, Anstruther


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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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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my that case was heavy!

new carpet smells a bit manurey...don't you think?

did I hear someone say "Get off that blanket!"?

So here we are and where are we? as Jeelie Piece’s staunchly ancient fpu would say.

Wherever we are, it is now officially Home. Forget the ¡Toast! me and Marmers are now well into the whole loff and have made it our very own. We have many tasteful crocheted blankets on which to snooze and, whilst some may say a cat may look at a Poäng but why would you let it sleep on it? I say poo-ey! what’s good for the bipeds is good for the kitty.

I find it a bit mystifying that we are strictly not purrmitted onto the bipedal bed, or indeed, into the bedroom, but such is Liff… White covers, I ask you…*sigh*.

Stairs are an interesting new concept to a cat brought up in Anorak Towers, a bungalow. Shame we’re not allowed up them…

In lieu of a dishwasher – as fpu says, who needs a mechanical one when you own the human variety – we have our litter tray, a loo in lieu one might say. Sometimes there’s no accounting for what bipeds say, but who am I, a mere cat, to quibble? As long as we get our three square meals, warm laps, cosy beds, nice blankies, and our lovely new Catflaps of Opporchancity, do we care? (Rhetorical. Not to be confused with Rhett Butler. Oops, thar she goes *THUD!*)

I also have my very own Pergola of Possibility, where the pu’s have thoughtfully hung the birdfeeders… Nice new Amtico christened within the fortnight. Blood does not stain it nor gralloch tarnish its loveliness.

We’ve had the odd tail-fluff and stand-off with some of the locals, but they mainly seem to know what’s what and we all rub along nicely most of the time. There are two d.o.g.s next door, but we never see them off their lead, so not a purroblem. I could take out the two of them with a Look!! Bravecat, that’s me! Whaur’s yer Mel Gibson noo?

Public purrs are due to The Cub, who passed on a crie-de-cœur re the disappearance, seemingly for ever, of iPhoto to babybiped1, who magicked it back into existence with one phone call. As Mia and I oftimes remark, you just can’t get the staff these days (though I think hers may be better qualified than mine:-)

There should be a sort of work-in-progress slide show at the end of this drivel. Kingdom Cat’s very own Housey-Housey Show. Brought to you by Cub/bb1/KC/Marmers Inc. May we all have a Lovely Liff!

Cookiecutter Cottage

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