Flying Cat - January 2007

A twelvemonth is a long time in the virtual liff of a cat. Islandblogging reeled me in sook, claw and whisker, and what a year it has been! Doughnuts and olive oil; rants and raves and reading the runes; arrivals and departures; Fank Fabuloso featuring monobrowed men in marigolds and bodachs in bins; the great Guess the Marag competition; knitting bees; Sunny delightful and all @ sea; huffs, puffs and gruff words; ups and downs in cottage erection - mr&mrs barebraes got felt, lost it and got felt again; the pusillanimous downsizing of Donald over his KPs; philosophical maunderings on guga, marag, marriage, betrayal and friendship; fear and loathing in Lerook; insomnia, inter alia, in Stornoway; Collholes in Pot; hot air and windylights; hatches, matches and dispatches; nature redd in tooth and claw; Duck Soap; old blogs, new blogs, borrowed blogs, blue blogs; charming and cherubic cats; diverse dawgs *sigh*; art, poetry and prêt-à-manger pondliff; tearooms and tantrums; ceilidhs and clapshot; up hill and down dell; fortunetelling north of Yell; romance in Dunrossness; wise words in westernesse; and, gathering in the rainbow threads somewhere in the Far Desert........."You don't mind," asked the Weaver, "if I borrow a skein from the moon and weave it into the shadows?"........ "I'll weave the North Star into it and it may point us a course to somewhere."
Another kind of bin most likely.
Here are some photos that ib told me were too big at 400x300 pixies so now they're too small. Technical support just went and got married in the Great Wen so it would be a bit tactless to yell "HELP" down the phone just now. And I am a tactful cat........

Shadows at Stenness

Stenness hentilags

Brodgar

What interesting and varied weather we have been 'enjoying' this week. On an uncharacteristically calm day - met. definition of 'no wind' = smoke rising vertical - fpu took Flying Cat's digicamera out for a walk round the loons at the back of Stromness, and took some pics along the way, ending up down at Warebeth just as the sun was setting. It surpasseth the understanding of a sensible cat why the bipeds get so excited by sunsets, but they do. Bless their little cottons.

Reflections in a flooded field - hydro poles.

Reflections in a flooded field - fences ancient and modern.

Reflections in a flooded field - horse.

St Johns Head, Hoy - sunset.

St Johns Head, Hoy - sunset.

windy oot the front

windy oot the back.
There now, I have typed in all the stuff with imgs, <>s and so on, by paw, because bbc don't recognise my server whoever he is (I'm told it's a Mac thing) and now await with interest to see what, if anything, transpires. Mpu rather spoiled her walk, and two awfully nice peoples' day, by following the sunset along the Outertown road and running over one of their ducks. This was bloody unfortunate and fpu has been wearing mental sackcloth and ashes ever since. The only good thing you could say was that the duck died instantly. I don't quite see the bipedal logic in the following........she would rather it had been a hen. From a feline stance, it's six of one and half a dozen of the other: if anything, duck is tastier (no no, she DID NOT ask to take it home for me and m'Marmalade chum!!!!!! *tut*) but, according to them, ducks have more character.....*BIG SIGH* I'm away to ponder the peculiarities of people.

Either I need help or they do. What ARE they doing? It started one day last week, when fpu paid a rare visit to the Flying Shed. She emerged humphing (at least I think that's what mpu said) four posts, a long rusty pointy thing and a Big Hammer. Well it has been boring since babybiped1 and the fluffy lion cub flew sooth post-Christmas, so I took a keen interest in the goings-on, which were happening outside the window of the Marital Chamber (I'm never quite sure of the spelling - perhaps it's martial?). First, the rusty pointy thing was jammed into the soggy grass 4 times (very) roughly square-wise, then the four poles were rammed in. I think it's becoming quite a custom hereabouts. Lastly, Big Hammer was used to bash them not-too-squintly into the ground. There were one or two misses and the odd curse - nothing to upset a sensitive feline - then the tools went back to Flying Shed and fpu returned to Anorak Towers.
The following day, whilst I was mulling over the pole planting episode, and humming a small hum in the rare January sunshine, both parental units exited the Sunroom of Eternity and once more Flying Shed was opened up. This time a roll of green material - somewhat reminiscent of 'drawers cellular' - a ball of green string, scissors, Wee Hammer, nails, washers and a large needle were utilised. Which brings us to:

Fpu and me making something. Taken by mpu who also assisted.

I really am doing my best, but it's not easy when a cat hasn't got a clue what's going on.........

This is not fpu's finest hour in stitchery terms.

And this is what it looks like now. But what on earth is it? Is it one of those things Brits change behind at the beach? It is very close to 'the beach' in Pond1, but I've never seen anyone in there in swimming togs.......fully clothed, yes, but not in bathers...... *scratches head in puzzlement*.

This is but a brief interlude from my toils, assisting fpu in painting the lynge a delicate shade of cream.

Boring neep with tatties and bung from a Far Island in the West.

Much improved neep etc.

Chieftain o' the Pudden Race reduced to a steaming heap. No wee coorin' tim'rous beasties here! Grrrrrrrrar! A ruination of good innards if you ask me.