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16 October 2014

Flying Cat - April 2006

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Exuant froggies, stage left........

Good grief. Now you see them, now you don't. Frogspawn, frogsgone, just like that. How boring liff has become; if only I knew the meaning of it all. I'm a bored cat. In mitigation of this purrlous state, I amused myself this a.m. by stalking up and down the corridor yowling loudly and swishing my magnificent tail. Three times I detached fpu from her boringly uncarnivorous breakfast as she rushed to see what was up. No I didn't want to go into Spare Oom, nor the Marital Chamber, nor did I want more crunchy Go-Cat (although, out of kindness I ate it.) It's raining and the Sunroom of Eternity has nothing to offer by way of entertainment. Sigh. Fpu's shut in her room chopping up bitsa cloot. No frogs. They only stayed a week this year, but what a week! More clumps of jellied eggs than ever before (8) and 32 the best head-count, over 24 last year and 12 the year before. Spawn from two ponds was introduced first in 2001, again in 2002 and the first returnées appeared in 2003. Unfortunately the bipeds got a bit carried away and also introduced 9 three-spined sticklebacks some time in the same period, necessitating the digging of pond2, a sticklebrick-free zone: three litres of jellied eggs were moved accross and next year, fates willing, the ribits will breed in both, thus the S. of E. will offer bi-directional fun for felines. When the Big Yellow Face reappears (when?????) I will go and stare into Pond1 to see sharklebricks nesting. Meanwhile..........ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.
Posted on Flying Cat at 15:07

Candle-lit suppers

Sometimes the ways of humans are too mysterious to fathom. One minute we, the Marmalade One, B&W and me, are quietly enjoying the peaceful delights of our lovely home in the eastern 'burbs of an evening, the next, a mass influx of strange bipeds, noisily and without so much as a by-our-leave. Well, M, as is his wont, shot off like a scalded dog, B&W sooked up to all and sundry in his usual vomit-inducing fashion, and I posed beautifully on top of a Very High Place. What do we get? Pit oot! PIT OOT!! Left pressing our noses to the glass doorpanes like wee penniless weans ootside a sweety shoap. Whatever that is. And then, aeons later, allowed back in to socialise and be polite. Not a nibble from the Candlelit Supper table as a reward and not a word of thanks. And the noise! Ma heid's only jist stoapped ringin'.
Mmmmmmmhm, it seems da Shetlandic cooncillors have just noticed their 'new' library is not really fit for the purpose. Hands up all those Shetlanders who are Very Surprised Indeed. What, not even one? Y'see, down here we turn old kirks into extensions of da cooncil offices, (so who knows whether they are fit or not) and build beautiful brand new libraries with space for lots of books........whereas up yunder, they turn oldish museums/libraries into cooncil offices and old kirks into.......well you get the picture.
Three clumps of flowering Tête-a-tête do not a Spring make. Blame the ageing Atlantic Drift. I do.
Posted on Flying Cat at 12:51

Feline spirituality

Only very occasionally, in the liff of a cat, does it truly regret an action committed on a whim. Whimsical is often our middle name. But, how oh how I wish I had not, in an idle moment, typed in 'godwin' and hit the search button. Thanks to Sunny and Calum&Annabel, I am now awash with speculation, information and false idolatry. Like the people on Tanna island, Vanuatu, who worship the Duke of Edinburgh, I languish whilst the postbags of the Orcadian and daTimes - and, in their case, The Voice of Vanuatu - remain bereft of up-to-date pronouncements from The Mighty Godwin (or Onefeladuke wea oli kam long UK). At least they have a photograph (mounted/framed) on which to feast their hungry eyes. I, I who have nothing........... miaooow, the screens, nurse, the screens!!
Posted on Flying Cat at 11:11

New kids on the block

And lo! twas a bleedin' miracle guv and no mistake. After all the worrying and waiting, the exclamations of 'ohmigosh the jelly's running out and they're all going to die', etcetera, all the tadpoles are out and swimming about. At least, they were yesterday am when the sun shone for a whole morning. At the moment they're mostly lying around conserving energy and feeding off the last ragged remnants of their former homes. What with that and the Hanging of The Bloody Scrolls with all its concommitant angst and hair-tearing-out, it's been a stressful week and I have tried to keep my head down. Did you know that a bit of white bread will remove a large black thumbprint from cotton fabric? Today's fascinating fact brought to you by Morag's Miracles Inc. In the cat world, liff's stress levels have just been ratcheted up several notches and many days by the appearance in my policies of a Stranger Cat - one who does not yet know his place in Cat Universe - who, most unfortunately, has All His BIts and Knows It. I am, as a result, having a Hard Time of it. My bipeds are doing sterling backup with a variety of weapons- sadly not of mass destruction, tho', as we all know, they could be hidden under a compost heap near you - hose, brush, clod and jumping up and down yelling wildly have all been brought to bear, but he's a persistant git and I get Very Upset when he lurks on the sill of the Sunroom of Eternity while I am trapped inside yowling. To cheer me up, Son2 emailed this - Put on slide show, it's better than telly. Oh sodit.!!!!! YOWWWWWWL.
Posted on Flying Cat at 12:53

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