TAPESTRY
Posted: Friday, 26 September 2008 |
You make me feel...you make me feel...you make me feel like a natural feline. In this season of fruity mellowness there is so much to share - neatly plucked birdies; nicely gralloched rodents; accidental tatties; gargantuan tomatoes and many other delights. Out of the thoughtfulness that is so very moi, I leave out the plucking&gralloching. I know you bipeds suffer from false sensitivities and I have no wish to cause offence. This time.
My life has been a tapestry of rich and royal hue
an everlasting vision of the everchanging you
a wondrous world of magic in writs of blue and gold - this is where it starts to unravel. I need Muness to sort out the words...and a coat of many colours, yellow-green on every side...no...maybe it is working
a tapestry to feel and see, impossible to hold
a tomato on a fivepee piece so tiny to behold
once he reached for somethin golden hanging from a tree (oh don't quibble, just use you imagination for goodness sake!)
once amid the soft silver sadness in the sky I saw a tiny fluttering of sparrows dropping by...
soon within my tapestry along the rugged road...I came upon a green daytide that ebbed as it still flowed
it grew and grew and suddenly, in days of twenty-one
there was a river all of green where once there had been none
it seemed that they had fallen into someone's wicked spell, that made a little tuber grow where none before had fell. (I thinks things are getting out of hand now. Blaming Muness and his songbook would be too easy...)
when you're down and troubled and you need a helping hand...
close your eyes and think of me (it makes you wonder just who's writing this sometimes, with images like that. I must get to the bottom of it...)
is this a lasting treasure? or just a moment's pleasure?
I would go to the ends of the earth...if you lead I will follow anywhere that you take me to. Which, for these Balsam Poplars, could be quite like the ends of the earth judging by their taproots. Book says 'do not plant within 40 metres of a dwelling'...it surely doesn't apply to the islands...well I won't be here to see it.
soon within the tapestry along the rugged road...(this is what a rather more grownup version of IT's twiglets looks like...within about three metres of dwelling...or less)
you've got to get up every morning with a smile on your face (look closely, the leetle feeshes are smiling...because I can't get at them!)
soon you're going to find you're beautiful as you feel (just got a bit of metamorphosing to do)
hey little fishes, you've got a friend! Don't you know don't you know don't you know, you've got a friend...
they'll hurt you and desert you and take your sole if you let them...but don't you let them...
the light of love is shining in your eyes *prrrrr* will you still love me tomorrow?
What sort of a question is that? Keep on opening the tins...
Now my brain hurts. All this blog grooming is getting too much for a cat. Just trying to scramble through all the detritus to reach the top of the page is a sisyphean task for a delicate wee moggy...oh well, wha daurs wins oot in the end...
My life has been a tapestry of rich and royal hue
an everlasting vision of the everchanging you
a wondrous world of magic in writs of blue and gold - this is where it starts to unravel. I need Muness to sort out the words...and a coat of many colours, yellow-green on every side...no...maybe it is working
a tapestry to feel and see, impossible to hold
a tomato on a fivepee piece so tiny to behold
once he reached for somethin golden hanging from a tree (oh don't quibble, just use you imagination for goodness sake!)
once amid the soft silver sadness in the sky I saw a tiny fluttering of sparrows dropping by...
soon within my tapestry along the rugged road...I came upon a green daytide that ebbed as it still flowed
it grew and grew and suddenly, in days of twenty-one
there was a river all of green where once there had been none
it seemed that they had fallen into someone's wicked spell, that made a little tuber grow where none before had fell. (I thinks things are getting out of hand now. Blaming Muness and his songbook would be too easy...)
when you're down and troubled and you need a helping hand...
close your eyes and think of me (it makes you wonder just who's writing this sometimes, with images like that. I must get to the bottom of it...)
is this a lasting treasure? or just a moment's pleasure?
I would go to the ends of the earth...if you lead I will follow anywhere that you take me to. Which, for these Balsam Poplars, could be quite like the ends of the earth judging by their taproots. Book says 'do not plant within 40 metres of a dwelling'...it surely doesn't apply to the islands...well I won't be here to see it.
soon within the tapestry along the rugged road...(this is what a rather more grownup version of IT's twiglets looks like...within about three metres of dwelling...or less)
you've got to get up every morning with a smile on your face (look closely, the leetle feeshes are smiling...because I can't get at them!)
soon you're going to find you're beautiful as you feel (just got a bit of metamorphosing to do)
hey little fishes, you've got a friend! Don't you know don't you know don't you know, you've got a friend...
they'll hurt you and desert you and take your sole if you let them...but don't you let them...
the light of love is shining in your eyes *prrrrr* will you still love me tomorrow?
What sort of a question is that? Keep on opening the tins...
Now my brain hurts. All this blog grooming is getting too much for a cat. Just trying to scramble through all the detritus to reach the top of the page is a sisyphean task for a delicate wee moggy...oh well, wha daurs wins oot in the end...
Comments
Lovely lovely photos, FC, including some of your excellent self, and even one of Marmers creeping in the undergrowth. I love the birdies on the pampas grass, and the exquisitely small tomatoes. Small is beautiful... this applies to fishies and froglets too, so *leave them alone*!
Jill from EK
Incredible !! I am so envious of your many talents FC, that bee on the flower is truly amazing. Your garden resembles Provence or somewhere equally Mediterranean. Wow !!! and may I just add, how educational I find your blogs, those big and unusual words make me reach for the dictionary to find out the meaning, which I think will come in very useful one day when I finally get on Who Wants to Be a Millionaire. Splendid Blog !!
Squidgy the Otter from Turning Green
any biped who keeps company with a feline soon has their finer sensibilities beaten out of them n'est-ce pas ... ?especially when nothing is left of the baby rabbit save a perfect fluffy ear, and two plump and complete eyes ... always artistically placed so they are looking glassily up at you ... :-)
soaplady from storing away 'gralloching' for the future ... :-)
The idea of my blogs being 'educational' is so deliciously silly, I can't help wanting to hug it to my pulchritudinous furriness... As for the talents, words attrib. Carole King (mostly...) and digicam on automatic, 6.3 megapixies, anything closer than 3" goes all fuzzy...so many pics fall into desuetude...*prrrgrin*
Flying Cat from big words for Squidgy!
One tomato, and that cat is going to eat it!! Lordy, lordy, the cat probably ate it already. # FC, those tomatoes are hard to slice, I bet. Gulping tomatoes rather than slicing ones, I suspect. # Spuds look alright. How did you cook them?
mjc from IN, USA
The spud-cooking was very ordinary - spuds/sweet potato/red onion roasted with olive oil and fresh thyme - but the spuds being there at all was entirely unintentional. Very tenacious things tatties. Leave one and you get several...
Flying Cat from not eating tomatoes
I did remark on the size of the tomatoes, and it contained a bare teaspoon of vitriol (them thar tomatoes would not hold more): but, pouf, gone with the Glaswegian wind. All this is enough to turn one (Hyper-B. anyway) into a Trotskyite-Anarchist (or so I should think). May Vanessa Redgrave bless you all my children.
mjc from IN, USA
Didn't see Marmers until I read the comment--very well camouflaged, purrrfect for attacking wee beasties. Beautiful photos, FC. Not having an opposable thumb doesn't seem to hinder you. Is that a rowan tree in the first photo?
thelovelyOutlander from admiring your photos
The opposable thumb is the only area where I will concede superiority to bipeds, but, with purractice and purrseverance , a cat can digicam...That there is a Rowan LO- RA has several from different sources - garden centre, Finstown, fly-by and Hoy. The Hoy rowan is always last to leaf and has neither flowered nor berried in 15 years or more.
Flying Cat from Rolling Acres
That rowan is not pulling its weight in the RA scheme of things! Of course, no flowers, no berries - that's a fact of life, EffCee.
Barney from Swithiod botanising
FC, I am thrilled from my head tomatoes. I know what desuetude means now, thanks to Wilkepedia and you, (and I think I am a bit desuetuded)
Squidgy the Otter from Desuetuded
The Hoy Rowan not the only Rowan that's not flowered or flourished. There is another one in Canterbury, if my fading memory serves me right.
mjc from IN, USA
Never Squidgy! The very idea of you falling into disuse...Tcha!
Flying Cat from Cap'n Pugwash's Birds&Bees
In the 2nd picture who are Castro & Rose? And where are they? All I can see is some weeds and a brow beaten c*t. Just an observation from the Mouse Detective. Good Day...
Tws from The Mouse Speaks Volumes
There's no flies on you Tws...as has been said before...
Flying Cat from a fly look
Dear me mjc, does the venerable Williams have no issue???
Flying Cat from Rowan Foula Doon
thanks for the tip re the twiglets I sent mine are not near my house but some of the ones you sent are growing like triffids I hope they continue to when re planted to final resting place, great blog as ever FC,
island threads from lewis
The diary entries of an averagely intelligent feline and his Marmalade Chum.
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