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Posts Tagged ‘murrdur’

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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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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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…

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Just drop your oatcake…

That kickboard needs a wash. Tcha!

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In a moment of Extreme Courage, fpu had a Good Rummage in the garage today and found the Black&Decker drill. After two years in bubblewrap, it was time to dust down Pig-Killing Club and mount it on the wall in CookieCutter Cott.

Being extremely right-handed, she surmised that PKC’s’s handle would hang to the right, so, choosing her spot carefully, she drilled two holes, inserted two plasterboard rawlplugs and screwed its bracket into place.

Lookin’ good! Feelin’ chuffed! (Not me – I was sitting in the sun thinking about stuff and having a wee streeetch.)

However, when fpu tried placing the club on the bracket, it rolled alarmingly and threatened to fall off. What could be wrong?

Oh. It was meant to sit the other way round… like this. Well, I just kept my furry head down. As you can imagine, twas l’air bleu and no misteak. And if I had a wee chortle© I kept it to myself. No point antagonising the Food Blob after all.

So, these plugs got bashed farther into the plasterboard (bashed – it’s a techie term, youse widnae unnerstaun, ken) and…

…plastered over with the help of Polly Filla.

Then the whole clamjamfrey was gone through again only a lot quicker this time…

…and Vanuatu Pig-Killing Club sits neatly on the wall near my favourite Poäng (but not too near).

What with that and yesterday’s Great Upheaval, when fpu exchanged every bit of furniture (and contents of two wardrobes) between Front Bedroom and Back, necessitating dismantling her bed and wrestling purrsonfully with recalcitrant sofabed, which unravelled itself at every turn, it’s been an excitin’ couple of days.

Time for a zizzzz…

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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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