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Posts Tagged ‘sunshine’

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…

 

snoozy-puss

 

 

 

 

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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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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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 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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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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We have been havin’ some stremely jolly weather recently, which we’ve all bin enjoyin’ each in its own little way. Me, I’ve bin p’trollin’ the policies, showin’ my lovely fluffy tum to All&Sundry – Parcel Delivery Lady, Helen from Two-doors-up (though I think nuthin of that by way of a house name, do you? Eh??) an’ of course, fpu.

I don’t do the tummy-showin’ bit to Marmers, obvs, that would just be silly!

Anyway, I thought you’d like to see how Marmers tends to spend his halcyon days. He does a bit of eatin’, a bit of thinkin’, a great deal of under-appreciated diggin’ but, above all, an’ what he does do best of all is – sleepin’. Just that. Sleepin’. I’m the first to admit he does it awfully well, though he claims he’s ponderin’ on the deeper things in Liff and suchlike, well…jus’ take a look at this. Ponderin’ my arse in parsley!

If you’ll pardon the ‘spression.

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