Thursday, 25 March 2010

Thursday in the garden - pushing boundaries

Mrs H was working in Beaconsfield today. Once we noted that she hadn't yet gone (she is always late when she leaves to go there), we set about our plaintive meows, coupled with fixating on the patio door (and Bing clawed at it). Eventually, despite her fancy heels and tights she caved in and let us out to survey our 'estate'. Kitty bliss!

Checking out the spot beneath the birdie table FIRST...

air scenting ...(ginger kitty Miss has been visiting)

then heading straight for the Ceanothus...

can't beat grubby pond water...(?!)

and a little chew of grasses...

interrupted by Mrs H, insisting I check out her new greenhouse (bit small and it's not got one single thing to scratch, but she says it was the best she could do given the spot..

personally it was BORING, what was I encouraged in there to SEE? No bugs or flies, not even an ant!
VERDICT: V Poor/Could Do Better)

Just when Mrs was preparing to round us up (yes, she puts us through this sort of thing), Darcy did what he does best. JUMP FOR IT!

... Up and over the wall he went.. birdie stalking ...

Mrs H freaked out (she always over-reacts in these circumstances). She gradually teased him back and my help with this was appreciated
(Mrs H was all hot and bother - this often occurs in humans).
Once inside, she then left us, shouting to MR H that she was late.

I stared out at the window as she backed out her car, paw held high, willing her to know that...
"No one can get inner peace by pouncing on it".Harry Emerson Fosdick

Wednesday, 24 March 2010


Sometimes, when I work at home alone I can master the art of slowing. The roar and rush of the weary workaday world can seem far away. The sounds and colours of a world not here, a faintly humming and shining world is one I have left.

It is at these times when I feel most free to do my own private thing, be a homely Me. Mix up the order of the day. Paint the side gate at 7.15am, and in my dressing gown. Prune the top of the Maple tree using my new telescopic ladder (in my dressing gown).

 Eat a breakfast for lunch.
Couldn’t quite open the door to the postman in my dressing gown with grunge hair, to sign for a parcel - but called through the door acknowledgment (and thought for a moment that he may be thinking I had something to hide)

Didn’t have a shower (thought about it though), and gardened in my most rubbish clothes (but still felt drawn to a careful layering of colours - what?!).

Cleared out some more books, rearranging what is to be read next. I have at least one less than a thousand thanks to that, hum.
Stripped the linen and made a fresh bed listening to Women’s Hour on radio 4.

I live near a school. And here in town the children add their shrill not unmelodious notes to the day if one can idle, stop and listen to their flutter. I match the breaks in their day with my own. Dropping under their childish spell.

I set the laundry going. Settle to write again. Maybe I will have a glass of wine for tea and a piece of chocolate. I concentrate my passion of being a very happy home-bod, for this day.

Thursday, 18 March 2010

Thursday in the garden - dirt

The Birman is famed for the beauty of their coat.
Silky white or ivory with a golden hint.
Always beautiful....

... that is unless they go into the garden on a wet morning and mess around in the MUD!

Darcy modelling the new look by L'Oreal - "Bedraggled"

It is a fortunate thing that the Birman is also sometimes referred to as the 'wash-and-wear' breed

Monday, 15 March 2010

like a birdie

Well, SHE did it!
As we have never yet caught a birdie, Our Mrs H has decided to get up in the great expanse of blue Oxfordshire sky and catch one, maybe five, for us (she never said this was her reason but why would she do it without US in the very front of her mind!?)

Naturally, we are her biggest fans...
cheering.. Purring.... her on....
Look! She spotted US! We nicknamed her hawk eye (on account of her shadowing us in our garden)

SHE went up in this special BIG birdie thingy...

... and THEN she fell out of it!!! this can happen when you have no claws.

a hole in the sky

Benny Hill once said "Just because nobody complains doesn't mean all parachutes are perfect.” I admit this crossed my mind on Saturday as I squeezed myself into my jump-suit.

.. and signed my life away in 3rd-party (only) insurance

...things eased and made that bit more stimulating by the rather handsome RAF guy instructing me
(a girl has to do it)

if all else fails... smile.. wave..

... and CARRY ON!

a beautiful blue day for take-off

.. the dive burnt me through, it was the most exciting, breath-taking moment. Suffused with mindless ecstasy of free fall, I FELL, soared ..
.. and I delighted ..
celebrating 'touch down' below with Deafax colleagues, Rubbena and Heather
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Wednesday, 10 March 2010

Home Alone

We got up here so we could better watch Mrs H. We had to do this because it was very clear to us that she was organising herself to go away somewhere. We watched her every move until she knew we knew!
Bingley assisted by choosing some of her clothes (he is helpful like that, and particularly likes her in the fluffy blue wool number)
We always go with her sightseeing etc, so I thought it would be best if I packed myself, just to take the pressure off her (remembering everything to take can be hard after all).

NOTE: I have some shocking news to report! This time WE WERE LEFT BEHIND! YES! I know its unbelievable! We were initially astonished and then positively miffed. Two little girlies came in to give us our meals and they were sweet, BUT it's not the same as touring with Mr and Mrs H. And this isn't the worst of it. There is evidence (in fluff and fur and scent - yuk) that the two of them have been communing with.....with.... other feline creatures....!!! Shocking! The full story is available over on Mrs H's blog in The essentials of happiness (only visit if you are made of strong stuff - we have refused on principle).

the essentials of happiness

Working hard, as Mr H and I, like so many, tend always to do (tinctured as ever with talk of the illusive work/life balance) can leave the heart pacing relentlessly, one grows tardy. Going away shifted the attention for us. While there is nothing sparse about our lives, a visit such as this one served to remind us of other things. I admit one could form a habit for such a life. Our friends live in an 1848 year old farm in Bergerac, France, and this last weekend typified aptly a wonderful approach to life.
Following years of correspondence, this was our very first visit. I made a faint, rather squeaky exclamation at the sight of the luminous, peaceful blue above a rural piece of French heaven, their heaven
Misty standing guard
It is sometimes said that the grand essentials of happiness are:
something to do,
something to love,
and something to hope for...
Their home is beautiful certainly, yet what drew me most was not the extent of what they have, but in the fewness of their wants
log piles foraged from the woods
These are 'cow shoes'!

Misty                        Thomas
Thomas, when first met, spread voluptuously upon the rug, then rose and bowed himself, shooting half-opened condescending eyes at us

"Time, surely, for a walk...?" 

Rosalind         Cherry          Biggles 


 ... with a remarkably loud, varied tempo of honks! (we know... it was our alarm clock!)


Misty finally got her way, and a walk it was...

Misty plus cats, Cas and Ino - far right - names derived from 'Casino' the supermarket car park where they were found as abandoned kittens
.. the cats accompanied us for 2 miles
One of a number of intimate moments between Biggles and me (he may forget what I said, but he hopefully he will never forget how I made him feel!)

a kind of donkey heaven (mud bathing)

We may not all have long tails but what we have can be perfectly formed and needs to be showcased! (Cas was born with this little specimen)


Following Mr W to feed the donkeys

... and to clean their teeth (oh yes), but should you ever be placed to smell their breath (well I don't know, you might!)... rest assured it smells sweet, of hay, it is a natural, light and pleasant sort smell. Really!

... cleaned out and pressed tar into their hooves (to protect against rot)
... Mr H and Mrs W collecting logs - the vehicle in the distance is being driven by Mr W, and is dragging the log out on a rope (here it got lodged against a tree, a bit of a nightmare when you have 20 to do - and they all get stuck one way or another)


Mrs W and me shopping at the local market...
A French heaven