What do you mean its November?
I’ve not been paying much attention, so it seems that I have neglected the blog for a couple of months. Sorry.
To start the ball rolling, a few snippets of life.
- Rusk (now age 2 and 5 months) can talk in sentences now, and does so constantly. Phrase of the week is “What’s that noise?”.
- The leaves on the trees have gone, so I once again have a sea view from my desk.
- I may be able to see the sea, but I can’t see my desk because of all the things piled up on it.
- We only have one cat now (Seph). Esme had acute kidney failure and died a couple of weeks ago. Sad. Seph seems to be over it, since she has started hunting again. Yuck.
- Knitting socks is taking over my life. Photos to follow.
- Handwashing all the knitted socks is becoming more of a chore. It really isn’t easier to knit another pair instead, but it sometimes seems that way.
- Anyone got any ideas for an advent beach hut? I’ve been offered a night in a beach hut in December, but I don’t have any ideas of what to do with it.
What a week! Finally back on the internet at the other end of the country. Just five more boxes of books (all on theology – how will I ever have time to read them?) to unpack (and a few other odds and ends).
Mr F and Rusk are adjusting well to the new place. The cats are somewhat bemused, but Esme has finally figured out how to jump stairgates so she is generally happier.
Those of you who pray, please remember us over the next couple of weeks as I am ordained deacon and start working here. Please also pray for these parishes!
On two occasions in the past week, I have attempted to be extremely practical and fallen at the final hurdle.
The kitties had finally destroyed the old catflap so I bought a replacement then discovered it needed new holes drilling in the door. We bought a drill* and I set to work. The varnish on the back door is very dark so I couldn’t get a pen to make a mark on it. There was no masking tape in the house so I couldn’t use that. In the end I measured from the other side and figured out roughly where the holes went. Holes successfully (well almost – there are two holes on one side – oops) drilled, cat flap inside part wedged into pre-existing hole, cat flap outside part lined up outside and screws ready to screw in. 20 minutes later, I still can’t figure out why the screw won’t catch on one side and I have to call Mr F. Turns out screws are too short. Why couldn’t I realise that? Then I would have actually managed some solo DIY.
Today I tried to change the windscreen wiper on the car. Again, after several minutes struggling with it I had to admit defeat. Turns out I was pulling when I should have been pushing, or something. Ah well.
On a practical level, I am doing better than the other female occupants of the house. The cats have not taken to their new cat flap at all. Seph will come in, but not go out. She has spent most of the day standing by it in the hope it will magically change back to the old one. I guess they will get fed up eventually and just decide to use it.
In other news, Rusk has FINALLY cut the tooth that has been causing him bother for 3 weeks.
* mmmmm a power tool of my very own
I went on my annual cheese quest to find some white stilton. No joy at T*sco, even when asking at the cheese counter. After several other cheese shops, I ended up at a very, very nice shop stocking many fine cheeses including Stinking Bishop. After sampling (and then buying) some smoked Caerphilly and some goat’s cheese called Rachel’s V, I asked about procuring some white stilton. Not having any in stock, and not being the first person to enquire, the proprietor rang up her supplier. It turns out that “artisan cheese makers don’t approve of white stilton” and consider it rather inferior cheese. Ah well, I shall look forward to telling Ma that. It is her influence that makes me go in search of it. There really is no better cheese to accompany mince pies. We’ve made do with Lancashire, but it isn’t quite right.
On Christmas morning Rusk and I were the only ones up and there was a fair bit that needed doing to food before Church. I therefore found myself sitting on the living room floor, peeling vegetables, surrounded by pans of water, toys and a small boy. Quite surreal.
Rusk’s favourite toy from Christmas was a rattle costing 50p. He chooses it above all other toys. He has figured out how to stay sitting up for a while by himself and is starting to get frustrated at not being mobile. People keep telling me that crawling won’t be far away.
On Boxing Day, the turkey was waiting to be disassembled, having been stashed in an absent neighbour’s fridge overnight. The only place that the cats don’t go is by the kitchen sink. For some reason they completely ignore that part of the kitchen. I now discover that Nemesis Cat, Es and Seph’s mortal enemy, has no such scruples. The turkey was surrounded by muddy paw prints. Thankfully it was well wrapped so Nemesis Cat made only a small incursion before being discovered red-pawed.
My lovely sister-in-law gave me some port in a wooden gift case. It took Mr F and I nearly half an hour to get into it. Is this some kind of plot to prevent alcoholics from getting an easy fix? We finally figured out that you had to slide a piece of wood to a particular place and then bend another piece of wood. Voila! The first piece sprang aside and the bottles were accessible.
I will post a picture tomorrow of my present from Ma and Pa. I know that it will make one particular person drool or covet. And on that note I think I will bid you all good night.
We have relatives visiting. We have cats.
One of the relatives is allergic to cats.
We have a kitchen door, behind which the cats can be contained.
The cats HATE being shut in the kitchen and cause merry hell to errupt at frequent intervals.
At some point I’m going to have to cook in the kitchen with the cats, or else shut them out in the rain and bear their pitiful miaowing at the cat flap.
The book group was lovely. We’re going to meet every six weeks ago for the next year. The meeting was just a social to meet everyone and plan a programme.
Since then I have been really busy with college work and going home to Wales again.
Home was very strange since there was only one cat. The other cat walked out 2 weeks ago and has not been seen since. He is a very stupid cat, so I reckon he has just forgotten where he lives and found someone else to feed him. The remaining cat has instantly taken to being an only cat, becoming much friendlier (still dribbling just as much) and generally enjoying being top cat. The smug look on her face does make me wonder if she may have had something to do with Cat no1’s disppearance. She just has that James Bond evil cat ruling the world look about her.
Those of you who have cats, perhaps you could assist me a little. Do your cats have internet pseudonyms to match your’s? Do you trust that their names are sufficiently common for them not to identify you? I always subscribe to the TS Elliott theory on The Naming of Cats, but I am starting to wonder if in this digital age, a cat needs a fourth name for internet purposes.
The reason this is exercising my mind is that we are considering providing long-term accomodation, food and domestic slaves for some kittens.
One of the things about moving into a new house is becoming accustomed to the forms of wildlife which may be found there. Yesterday I was sitting and watching tv in a darkened living room when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw something flit along the phone cable. After a couple of minutes it did it again in the reverse direction, then went to ground. I am assuming it was a large spider, really quite big to be visible in a dim light. I have taken to keeping my feet curled up on the sofa in order to prevent any ‘Incy wincy spider, climbs up Farli’s leg’ incidents.
I was sitting reading in bed the other afternoon when I heard a cat scratching itself on the landing and padding about. Nothing out of the ordinary there, you might think. One problem – we do not own a cat. When I wandered out onto the landing to say hello, it streaked down the stairs and into the garden, where it arranged itself into a flaked out position and commenced washing behind the ears. By the time I got down there, it looked up as if to say ‘What me? Upstairs? Oh no, you must be thinking of some other cat’. It proved to be quite friendly, but since we are looking into getting some kitties of our own, I don’t want to encourage it too much. Mr Farli came out to meet it, was taken in by the soulful look on its face and wanted to feed it. The last thing this cat needed was another meal – quite rotund and sleek. I wonder how many other houses it frequents. For those interested in such things, it is long haired, mainly white, but with a wide stripe of dark tabby down the middle of its back.
Final item of wildlife news concerns Herbie the Basil Plant, who is still alive over a week after arriving. I have bought him a plant pot holder (black and from Ikea) to live in and remembered to water him most days. This is looking quite promising.
Nothing of interest has happened today. I mowed the lawn and tidied the shed. Now I am listening to last night of the proms.
This blog entry finds me in Wales. I am visiting my Mum (Dad having beetled off to London on some Railway related mission) and going on a friend’s hen night. One slight problem is that one of the cats has just come and dribbled all over me – I had already got changed. I may have to rethink the wardrobe. It is, however, very nice to see the cats again, despite the dribble, oh yes, and lots of grey cat hair as well. Marvellous. Just the look that is needed.
I am also having an interesting time typing as Mum has one of those computer desks with a slide out shelf for the keyboard, but the chair only fits in if the shelf is mostly still under the table. I am making rather a poor attempt at touch typing, with occasional pauses as I peer under the desk to find things like punctuation marks.
Off to catch the train now to get to the party.