Mifford

At 9am on December 12th 2009 my cat Mifford passed away.

I'd known for a week that she wasn't well, I put her in her carry box and headed to the vet.

When he asked me what was wrong I said she just wasn't right. He asked what I meant and I said she hadn't come to bed. It's something that sounds so silly, but in the years I had Mifford I could count on one hand the amount of times she didn't come to bed.

She was my shadow. Where I went, she went. From room to room, from house to garden.

I just knew in my heart she wasn't well and I knew that it wasn't good.

The vet examined her, couldn't find anything really wrong, gave her a shot of steroids and sent us on our way. We were back two days later, she wasn't eating, she wasn't moving but the only course of treatment would be the injection she'd already had and that had made no difference. I took her home, I made tuna smoothies, I made sardine smoothies, I can't tell you how terrible these things smell, but nothing induced her to eat. I brought her glasses of water to the sofa so she didn't have to get up.

I spent Friday night sleeping curled up alongside her on the sofa. I knew time was short and I couldn't bear to spend a moment away from her. It was the worst sleep I've ever had and I wouldn't change a minute.

We went back on the Saturday. We can operate he said, but if I open her up and there's something bad in there, I won't wake her up again. We could put her on a drip but I don't think that's fair he said. I can send you home with a syringe to force feed her he said, but for me, that just wasn't an option. If she didn't want to eat, what business was it of mine to force her to do so?
Which left only one option. I wasn't going to be going home with Mifford. I knew it was the right choice for her. I knew that any decision I made that wasn't euthanasia would be purely selfish and unfair on her. I knew in my heart she was ready.

When I had to make the same decision for first Smudge and then Lightning, years ago it was horrible. I can tell you these are the three hardest decisions I've ever had to make in my life.

I went home alone and my heart was broken.

Her things were everywhere, her favourite catnip pillows, the little mice she batted around the lounge. Her bottle tops that were chased up and down the stairs, then left to attempt to kill me.

I could do nothing but lay on my sofa and cry.

My best friend, my very best friend was gone.

I used to walk in my front door and know she'd missed me.

To anyone that hasn't had pets, that doesn't understand the connection you have with your animals, it's impossible to comprehend the grief and loss you feel. This is not just an animal. They're your family, your companion, your friend and your confidante. They don't judge you, they accept you any which way, they don't care if you're dressed up to the nines or in your sweats, they want to cuddle with you every day of the week and they never hold a grudge if you've been in a bad mood. They don't fight you for the remote, they don't mind what you watch on tv, they don't care if you cry over a silly movie and they don't want you to do anything but make sure there's food in their bowl, water right next to it and fresh litter in the tray, but mostly they just want to be loved and in return they'll love you right back.

I loved the way she laid down in the street and showed every passer by her tummy, demanding that they stroke her as she rolled back and forth.

I loved how she would wrap her front legs around her favourite catnip cushion and fall asleep.

I loved waking up in the morning and finding her face just inches from mine waiting for my eyes to open.

I loved the way she chased me round the bed every time I changed the sheets or made the bed, running from corner to corner.

I loved that she would run to the door every time I walked in, miaowing the loudest hello she could muster.

I loved that if I was away all day, or maybe a couple of days she wouldn't leave me alone, that I'd have to pick her up and carry her around just so she would calm down.

I loved how she had to be able to see me, so when I had a bath she had her own chair to curl up on so she would be comfortable right next to me.

I loved how she demanded that every single person through my front door acknowledge her, refusing to leave them be until they had greeted her.

I loved that she knew Friday was the day she got her special food, it was treat day.

I loved that she took every opportunity to cuddle up with me.

I loved how she made me laugh.

I loved how she loved me.

I miss her every single day.

Cats & Ducks

Thursday last week, I made my way down to Bristol to watch The Cat Empire. Always superb live and great high energy fun.
With the exception of missing one junction - which I will continue to blame on poor road signs - I made it without a problem, even driving into the city centre and finding my destination without a wrong turn. Without sat nav. Not half bad!
Met up with Siobhan and Aaron and we went for a pizza dinner, trying out the one of the new Leggera pizzas. God, just the word pizza makes me hungry.
Afterwards we headed to the venue and made our way in, taking up my traditional spot towards the front.
The support came on and were pretty good.
I told Siobhan that Felix in the Cat Empire was beautiful. She asked whether he was really beautiful, or just my idea of beautiful.
I think she might be trying to infer that I have occasionally unusual taste in men.
I assured her he really was very beautiful.
The band took to the stage, I pointed at the stage and said "That's Felix".
"Oh my God, that's like a real life Patrick Dempsey" she said, then turned to Aaron and continued "I'm sorry, but I might have to leave you".
Look how beautiful he is:

That man was standing just feet from me and I was able to contain myself. That's self control I tell you.
And for your viewing pleasure, here they are live, doing one of my favourite songs, in fact the chorus is my ringtone on my phone.
Oh, and check out the dude in black on the trumpet. That's Harry. I wouldn't be turning him down either! Plus that Harry, he can really scat.

A little bit of the lovely Harry (I'm generous today eh?):


So, after they came on stage the crowd got a little, well crowded, a lot of pushing and shoving commenced. After a song or two Aaron decided to bow out and during the next song, Siobhan and I nearly ended up getting pushed over. I grabbed her wrist and despite her declarations that she was fine I insisted it wasn't safe and we made an exit. Or rather I shoved a number of people and trampled on a lot of feet. We headed upwards and watched the gig from tv screens and where I was free to dance like a dervish, as is my wont.
Despite the crush at the front I had a splendid time.
When they did The Chariot (the first video) it went to an instrumental in the middle before suddenly morphing into Billie Jean, which was awesome. None of the band sang the verses but as it moved into the chorus the whole crowd started singing. I sorely missed someone doing a moonwalk but it was just brilliant, as they morphed back into The Chariot, Felix said they felt he deserved a tribute and it was an excellent one.

Post gig we headed back to Siobhan & Aaron's place where I kipped for the night, before heading home at lunchtime.
I again missed the damn junction, for the exact same road, but this time, brilliantly, I managed to not only miss the junction but then get caught up in the tailback following a small pile-up. And thus welcomed an extra couple of hours on to my journey.

Finally made it home in time for tea and started preparations for the picnic I'd arranged for Saturday. Only a small affair, but as it was the annual Dunston Duck Races I thought it would be a laugh for some of my mates to come over and bet on a duck or two.
So, at 11pm on Friday night, I was busy whipping up a couple of batches of cupcakes. I'll be uploading the recipe for the cupcakes with mascarpone & fruit on my cookery blog soon and you must try them, find any excuse you can, they were just so very, very good.

Saturday rolled around and it was picnic time, I took a sack trolley and made my way up to the green, laid out blankets and started to feast. To begin with it wash just Rachael and I as it was also a massive airshow just down the road and traffic was rather heaving. I suspect we looked quite funny with this enormous amount of food and just the pair of us, bit by bit other folks showed up. The kids ran up and down the beck, slowly getting wetter and wetter, but it was so warm that they seemed to dry almost as quickly. There's something about kids just jumping around in water, free fun and they make seemingly endless games out of it!

A little while later the races commenced. I bet on races 4 and 5.
Below is my duck, number 43. It's safe to say that this little grouping of ducks is towards the rear. I was in no danger of winning.

These would be the ducks making it under the finish line. Mine was still feasting on weeds or stuck behind an obstacle. Quite frankly number 43 let me down.
Truth be told, my bet on number 7 didn't go any better either. Ah well, it's a good job I'm not a gambler.

I managed to get a wonderful circular spot of sunburn on my back, having not thought through the keyhole part of my top very well. I just can't reach there with suncream!

Everyone but Rachael made their way home after the racing had finished. Rachael and I headed to my garden where we reopened the picnic leftovers. There was more feasting. I had made fresh lemonade and some elderflower cordial but Mifford wasn't allowed any, so as not to be outdone, she found her own sweet nectar:
Got to love a bit of watering can water, although that might only apply if you are a cat, or Mifford.
Once the sun started to cool, we headed in and watched Transporter 3, which I enjoyed. I know it's not a good movie, but I do like the Transporter movies, they make me laugh and the violence is just so wonderfully choreographed!

A final couple of notes. I totally ran over the big toe on my left foot with the sack trolley, I cannot tell you how that smarted. I did well not to curse in a number of different languages.
So, on Sunday my big toe was clearly swollen and I therefore decided that the ideal way to proceed would be to stub my little toe and hard. So hard it went a purple/black shade and I wondered for some time if I'd actually broken it.
It's a talent.

That's all for now folks, I have to go pick tea from the garden.
Oooh, it's raining and the sun is out, I also have to go see the rainbow.
I'm easily excited, me.

In The Kitchen Or Not....

Whichever way you look at it, Mifford just can't take the heat: Poor love.

Mifford

I was out in the garden the other day when I heard the unmistakable sound of Mifford's collar. I glanced around, she was nowhere to be seen. I heard her again but she just wasn't there. I called her name but nothing and I eventually decided she must be the other side of the fence, until I spotted a pair of eyes in the undergrowth:

She's so cute I want to snuggle up with her all day.

I made her a cushion, she loves her cushion, she likes to lay, hold and cuddle her cushion. Sometimes she holds it between her paws and puts her head upon it and drifts off to sleep. It's quite possibly the cutest thing in the world
However, see the pic below:
See how she holds on to that pillow? See that licking of her paw. This is mime.

The licking says, if you try to take this pillow from me, I will take pleasure in licking your blood from my paws. Don't make me prove it to you.

God damn I love her.

Sprung

Spring has truly sprung.
It was so deliciously warm yesterday I decided to do a circuit of my garden with my book. Now, it's only a tiny garden, but the circuit starts at the swing seat, until that's fully in shade, then move over to the bench until the sun starts to make me melt. Then it's back to the house to pick up the blanket I forgot to bring out earlier. Lay down the blanket, prop self up on elbows and delve further into book. At this point Mifford lays against me, where she stays until too hot to even touch, at which point she moves to the shade, then once cooled, it's back to the sun.

I've said it time and again but daisies are my favourite flower. Look at that happy face, petals still unfurling. Makes you smile eh?

That's my vegetable patch. Isn't it wee! I can't tell you how those seedlings excite me.

So, whilst daisies are my favourite, there is something about pansies that make me happy. I have pots of them outside my front door, I swear each and every flower smiles to the sun. In fact they smile at the rain too, they have this joie de vivre about them.

And.... I just don't believe anyone couldn't love daffodils.
Even my sister likes them and I told her they were edible, so she ate a whole one. She wasn't well. I wasn't popular.

The sun was out again today and I decided it was time to hit the countryside on my doorstep. It's a funny thing, I really enjoy walking alone, there's something about setting your own pace, stopping whenever you want without worrying about holding up someone else or a whole group, but there's that concern that you're out in the sticks on your own and that is somehow dangerous.
The world as it is today, is dangerous - not that it hasn't always been. It's not as if murder and rape are new crimes, but we are infinitely more aware of it and there were moments as I walked and didn't pass a single other person that I felt vulnerable. But what are we to do? Stay home, just in case? I don't feel like I can do that, besides which, to be honest I was most scared of this cow:

That one on the left, I think there's evil in its eyes.

It was so incredibly pretty out there, all the spring bulbs having pushed their way through, I only wish I'd taken a proper camera.

The wild garlic is out - so I'm going to go back and harvest a little at some point as I have a recipe for wild garlic pesto. And I do so adore pesto. The idea of a wild garlic version just sounds delicious.
I'm actually really interested in the idea of foraging, I've been sitting with my copy of Food For Free by Richard Mabey and the idea of finding edible leaves right here on my doorstep, wild and free is fascinating. It also seems like a great way to learn more about the flora. I recognise the fauna, having stood quietly on a path and watching a hare potter about in a field, hopping this way and that. There were also so many wonderful birds singing from the skies and trees. I don't think I ever tire of the sound of the skylark, or in fact of the sight of goldfinches flitting from here to there and back again.
So, I recognise the birds and animals well enough, but the plants? Not so much, what's edible? What's going to make me ill? No clue beyond the obvious things that everyone knows. I wonder if there are foragers in my area... time for some investigation I think...

Brrm Brrrm

I've had my Mum and Step-Dad Tim staying with me for a week, it's so strange going from a house of two with Mifford & I to a house of five, including their dog Louis.

I had to remember to close the bathroom door!
Am I alone in this, but I just never bother as I'm living alone, am I weird?

Well, I know I am, but still...

The really cool thing was that I got to try out lots of different recipes. As a single girl, I don't really bother to cook much for myself, so many recipes make family sized portions and you can't really get a quarter of an egg, you know?
So, I've updated my Food Blog with the lovely things I made, like Lemon & Asparagus Risotto, Blueberry Bagels, Pavlova Roulade with Rose Water Mascarpone, Pak Choi with Cashews, and more...
I think I'll be back to the old cup a soup and pasta from now on.

I also finally managed to find a new car. It was so much harder than I ever anticipated it would be.

Tim & I went browsing for cars last Monday. All day we drove around and I spent many a minute berating this vehicle:

It's not a pretty thing is it? It's an ugly car said I. I'd never have one of those said I.
We arrived at about the last garage of the day and one sat in the forecourt. Once again I reiterated how ugly it was, but joined Tim in his peering in through the window.
"It has three seats in the front!" I squealed.
"Yes" says Tim.
"But that means there's room for me, my handbag AND a passenger upfront! I think I want one! How much is it?"
Tim looks at me and I realise I have done nothing but whine about this car for most of the day.
I have been swayed by the fact it has a seat for my handbag. It's not even that big of a handbag.
But not only that, it's huge, it's basically a van with seating.
Then I discover that the back of the middle front seat folds flat and provides you with a tray and drinks holders. I am smitten. Gone are my loathings for its ugly exterior.
It has a tray! And room for a handbag!

I didn't buy one. It was bloody expensive on the old insurance. Damn shame.
Anyway, I collect Jeff tomorrow, that's the name of my new car.
I'm not sure why I called her Jeff, it just suits her. Even though she's a she and Jeff's clearly the name of a he.
I am suffering with a combination of excitement and sadness.
I am excited to share some adventures with Jeff and to experiment exactly how much stuff I can fit into her spacious interior, but I am sad that the Beastie and I will have to part ways. Tomorrow is the last day I will be able to drive her and I am going to miss her terribly. I enjoyed driving out of town earlier today, in the outside lane, zooming up the hill, engine revving, aware this might be the last time I'm able to win a race up that hill. Dropping from a 2 litre engine to a 1.4 is going to sting a little. I am telling myself that Jeff is lighter than Beastie and will be able to attain a similar level of speed.
Harriet sent me a text to say she'd seen a Jeff-a-like on the motorway, going very fast. She also seems to be excited by the spacious, van-like interior. We are going to be dangerous.

Speaking of Harriet, I went with her today to an ultrasound scan. I totally saw that little, very little, baby of hers put up a hand for a high five. It's true, there's even a photograph.

The garden is full of seedlings. I am beyond excited. Well, with the exception of the Ambassador Pea which is either really lazy or completely useless. Everything else is pushing its way through the soil in an effort to please me.
Also while Mum & Tim were here, my garden got a bit of a facelift, the lawn was edged and, once the lawn becomes lawn, rather than a home for all weeds, it'll be complete.

Oh! My finger didn't drop off! I attack it with a blender and still it remains strong! It also remains bloody sore, but heck, shove a blade through any part of you and it's likely to smart for a while. I think the fact that I sliced right through the nail and nail bed is what's most sore, it's like having a horrible bruise right under my nail. Nice.

That's all folks.... I won't leave it so long next time... honest!

Kinds Of People

There are people in the world who want everyone to think their children are cute. There are also people who think their pets are the most adorable thing in the world.
Both of these people feel the need to force everyone else to look at photographs of their children or pets, sometimes both, and agree to how absolutely gorgeous they are.

I think I may be one of those people, because, behold:
Look at those eyes! At this point, she's laying on her back, on my lap, legs splayed and stomach displayed. Which is the perfect position for combining both a tummy rub and looking cute.
I love her, I just can't help myself, she makes me happy.

It does put me in mind of this though:
It makes me chuckle, so it does.

On a less happy note. I have been a little lax with my dyeing routine and some roots have developed, rather disturbing to me is the discovery that a few of these roots are of the grey persuasion. I have been removing them with tweezers, which is probably not an ideal solution, but until I get to the shops to buy more dye, what's a girl to do?

Ugly?

I saw a link to this earlier, which supposed that this is the worlds ugliest cat.
I happily describe myself as a cat person, more than that, I'm an animal lover. I've always had pets from Bobby Flowerpot my hamster (I was young, I'm sure the name made sense) till Mifford today.
In between have been pets including cats Smudge & Lightning, chinchillas Poppy, Quaker, Dobey, Flip, Flop, rabbits Oswald, Goose, Edwina, Rosalind, Chish, guinea pigs Wellington & Fips, hamsters Blob, Chaffie, Chi-Chi, gerbil Jeremy Splodge, stick insects Edgarina & Gluey and a locust Jiminy. There was also Louis the Bichon Frise - but he belongs to Mum so not strictly mine but he lived with me a while, although I can't forget Delirious, a greyhound but she came as a bundle with my ex-fiance.
As a youngster we also had chicken and several aviaries with budgerigars, love birds, canaries, quail, finches.....
The point being I love animals, always have, always will.
And I just don't think that cat is ugly.
I think it's adorable. I want to take it home and cuddle with it.
Which is not something Mifford would approve of. It's safe to say she feels nothing but loathing for anything with four legs, and if you have feathers, two legs don't work for her either. And to be fair she did catch a slug once, so even a lack of legs annoys her. It's safe to say she hates anything that is not a human. She's a bitch, what can I say.
But a cute one.
This is a little known yogic pose: "at one with radiator".


I take a great blurry photo. It's a skill.

Song Of The Week XXXXVI

Every morning when my alarm goes off Mifford sits straight up, heads to the radio and stares at it as if contemplating where on earth all those people whose voices she can hear are hiding. After a moment she headbutts it and still they don't appear, then she will nudge me, paw me or flat out slap me for attention.
Normally I feign sleep for a while, but the other morning the alarm went off and a few moments later this song started.
I confess I virtually jumped from my bed and then proceeded to dance around my bedroom like a demon (how does a demon dance?) I just couldn't help myself, even now my toes are tapping and I feel like a bit of a boogie.

The Supremes - Keep Me Hanging On:

As with most kids I thought, when I heard this by Kim Wilde as a youngster, that it was the original, and when I established that it wasn't, I couldn't imagine that someone older could ever have done a potentially better version.
I'm so pleased to finally be older and realise that can definitely be wrong.
Not that Kim Wilde's version isn't good, sometimes going back to the beginning is just where it's at!

Happy New Year!

2009 has begun.
I can't believe that nearly a decade has passed since there were cold sweats about the millennium bug.
Time flies whether you're having fun or not!

I went into town and into one of the pubs there to celebrate New Year, the as it got after 11pm I started to wonder how warm my cottage was at that moment. My mind wandered to my bed and I remembered how terrifically warm it is under my duvet.
Finally midnight rolled around and I, very lethargically, didn't rise from my chair, but watched a small crowd gather in front of the TV and cheer as they counted down into the New Year.
I'm like Scrooge, but I didn't mean to be, I was just tired!
Which reminds me, back here I said that my lovely doctor wanted to do some blood tests. I was quite convinced I was fine, turns out I was wrong.
I have pernicious anaemia. Which I'm perversely pleased about, not that I want to have something wrong with me, but I'd just been feeling so tired, cold, lethargic and lacking in any motivation that it's good to know there's a reason for it and they can fix me!
I'm actually looking forward to getting my injections of B12 to sort me out and regain some of that energy!

I haven't made resolutions, but have resolved to have changes.
Which isn't quite the same thing, at least not in my crazy mind.
There are a lot of things I'd like to do, one of my local venues is having some brilliant gigs and showing some world cinema films, so I'm trying to decide if I'm going to be brave enough to go on my own.
It's easy to say it here, but I'm quite a nervous and shy soul at times, so I might eventually balk at the idea. It just seems such a shame to miss out, for lack of accompaniment.

Oh! I must mention this, last night my computer refused to play ball and got stuck halfway through a shutdown so I pressed my finger to the power button, at which moment Mifford got up from rubbing herself into the carpet and pressed her nose to my finger. She was obviously a bit full of static from the carpet rubbing and we both got a shock and both shot back at speed. I felt a little guilty as she looked up at me with a "what did you do that for?" look in her eye. A shock to the nose must really smart!

My bathroom radiator is boiling hot at the base and lukewarm at the top, so I have been trying to bleed it. I have bled every radiator in the house and they are all fine, but this one refuses to play ball, so I frequently open the valve just in case a little air escapes. This morning I opened the valve and it made a funny noise, not quite like air escaping, so I leant in to put my ear to the valve at which point a loud miaow escaped. I naturally swore and leapt back before peering in to discover Mifford at the base of the radiator hidden under a towel. Of course.
She does it on purpose.

Not Dead, Just Crippled

It's been a day or two. Maybe a week or so.
But I have returned, I have not gone, but my back has.
Honestly, what use is a back if it's going to misbehave. Does it not appreciate how central it is to your general mobility.
Admittedly my grunting appears to entertain those around me as I move from sitting to standing positions and back again, but even that will grow old.
To be fair it's much improved and after the next day or two I think I'll actually get some time to rest it and let it recover.
Also, on another upside, it is no longer waking me in the night every time I wiggle a toe. There's something disheartening about waking up and realising the time on the clock has barely changed since the last time you saw it.

I think, anyone who has read my rambling nonsense will appreciate I have a tendency to lean towards the eccentric. Sometimes I keep it in check, other times it just sort of runs off and I am unable to rein it in.
It snowed yesterday. Just a few inches, but enough to turn my world a pristine shade of white, to make the kids squeal and Mifford shake her feet in displeasure.
I was invited to Mum's for Sunday dinner. I'm not sure if my assembled outfit was eclectic, eccentric or just bonkers.
One thing it definitely wasn't was thought through.
I threw on a pair of jeans, my favourite pair were residing in the hamper waiting to be washed. My second favourite pair sit a little low and so need a long top to prevent indecent, builders bum, exposure. I pulled out a top. A strappy top.
You'd think the freezing temperatures would rule this out, but no.
I added a huge cardigan. Up until now I was pretty co-ordinated as everything was blue.
Then I realised I needed to leave the house and appreciated the fact that my Capri length (second favourite) jeans might not keep those ankles toasty, so I opted for a long pair of pink & green striped slipper socks.
Sexy huh?
But wait, there was snow and ice on the ground.
I added my green wellies.
See how this look is coming together?
For a final touch I added my pink winter coat.
I'm like a fashion disaster.
But I felt so hilarious (ridiculous) I fairly skipped in the snow.

Moving on....
Last week, complete with uncooperative back I went to the NEC with Mum to visit the Hobbycrafts show. I love me some crafting. And some shopping. And some spending. It was good and I have come to realise in future I need a lottery win prior to visiting so that I can purchase all of my desired items. Or a really generous bank manager. I'll be sticking to my lottery dreams, as, even though I never buy a ticket, my chances of winning are still higher than finding the latter of those options.
I did come away with a sheet of cling rubber stamps, with which I am thrilled and am excited by their bargain price of just £4. I also got shrink plastic, which I remember using as a child. There's just something exciting about its transformation.
My friend Gary came over last week, I sat and painted a picture as we chatted, which I intended to then shrink.
The instructions clearly stated that your image could not be larger than 10cm x 13cm, so naturally I did one that was half A4 size. When it was finally finished I reached for my heat gun to see what would happen with my rebellious, outsized image. Gary said it was genuinely exciting.
What was less exciting was the damn thing rolling up on itself, sticking itself together and becoming all but ruined.
It's totally weird but I think the rules about 10cm x 13cm are there for a reason. Who knew!
However, I have since managed to unroll the shrink plastic, it's a little deformed but what the hell. I'm not sure I've learned my lesson now I've sort of fixed it.

I read a book every night (not a whole book, just part of one) before I go to bed but I left my current book in the car and it's really cold out there. I'm also wearing pyjama bottoms with my daytime clothes. But it's dark. Do I get the book and risk further bad clothing exposure or find something else to read?
My life is a whirlwind of complex decisions.

On a final note, I lost a whole hunk of hair to a necklace today. I have no idea how so much got trapped, but I have a feeling, were I to look, that I'd have a bald spot.

It's All Good

On Friday I got the call to say I was definitely to collect my Dad from Nottingham. Again. We're of high hopes that this is his last stint in hospital for chest pain, that he is finally sorted. And on a myriad of medication.

Friday also heralded the arrival of the oil tanker. Hundreds of litres of the expensive stuff spilled into my tank. As the tanker left, I went to my boiler and the red 'Lockout' light was shining brightly. I pressed the reset button. The boiler went on and off. Again and again I tried. Keeping the fingers on the other hand crossed that it would roar into life, without the need for an engineer and the hideous call out charge. I started to do the I-need-to-pee dance and decided I would have five more presses of the reset button before I commenced the I-desperately-need-to-pee dash to the loo.
First press. It died again.
Second press. It died again.
Third press. It died again.
Fourth press. It roared into life. Whilst completely the I-desperately-need-to-pee dash I pressed a hand to the radiator. Heat was starting to work its way through. I combined the I-desperately-need-to-pee dash with a Hurrah dance. You can't conceive of how attractive it was. Mifford looked as though she wanted to join in. Possibly.
But. I have heating! It's warm. It's toasty.

That afternoon I rang a man.
"Hello"
"I'm looking for a chimney sweep."
"Are you now?"
"Well I think I am."
"You think you are?"
"Well I lit a fire and instead of the smoke going up the chimney it filled my entire downstairs with a vintage London smog. That can't be good? Right?"
"I bet you've got Jackdaws in your chimney."

Oh good. What worries me is not that they're living there. It's that they might be dead there. I can't even bring myself to look up there in case that's the exact moment the dead thing drops out, because in my world that's just the way things happen. I hope he doesn't charge extra when he discovers that Mifford used to pee in the fireplace. I know. She's nuts. It's why I want a fire. A singed backside will put a stop to that little escapade.

Well, it's almost all good. I should like to tell you about my right arm. It's the one they shot electricity down in an attempt to establish why it hurts. Anyway. It hurts these past few days. Possibly exacerbated by the cold which makes the arthritis in that hand get aggravated. On top of this I managed to swipe my little finger across the serrated blade on the sellotape dispenser. Twice. That smarted. I also have a cut on the back of my hand, I have no idea how it got there. Nor the large bruise that's immediately to the right of the cut. My right arm is in the wars. My left arm? Right as rain.

I cooked last night. Radiatori in a Pumpkin Sauce. I must add it to What's Cooking because it was oh so fine. Delicious. I'm going downstairs soon to reheat the little that's left and wish I had piles of it. Rachael cleaned her plate too so I think she enjoyed it too.

Another good thing. I got new jeans. They fit great in the shop, then after a couple of hours wearing they were loose. In that I didn't need to undo them to remove them, which wasn't so great, but with a belt, they're great again. I love my new jeans. I would like some black ballet pumps. I don't know why, I just feel I need some.

Oh! You know what else is good? I have four avocados sitting in my fruit bowl. I love avocado. See how easy I am to please!

What's Going On?

Oooh lots and lots.

Least that's the way it's seemed.

Let's see what's occurred. Obviously in no particular order as my brain is random, and doesn't work in any real order. Despite my OCD leanings!

On June 20th I turned 33. I wrote last year about how much I hate birthdays and wasn't really looking forward to another one. Damn their annual occurrence. But you know what? It really wasn't so bad. Who knew?!

I even got to go for High Tea... check out the sandwich and cake selection - I couldn't even see my fellow diners for cake. Pretty much heaven. Although it was quite a fright to establish I DO have a cake limit.

That's my sister hiding behind the second pic, she travelled down from Orkney for a wee visit and it was really lovely to see her and even better that she made it just in time for some High Tea adventures!

Then the day of my picnic rolled around and it rained. And rained. And rained.

It had to be decamped to my mothers house, which was good that it was possible to do that, but made me really sad in the morning that the weather had, rather literally, rained on my parade. But worse things happen!

It was really good to catch up with everyone that was able to make it and braved the barbecue under the big brolly!
I can't quite believe I didn't take a single picture, I was wearing my super-cool dress too!

***

I had my weekend away at The Big Session and it was really good. If you ignore what felt like arctic temperatures overnight. I did wake one morning and briefly fear that the numbness in my nose indicated it had frozen and dropped off.

We called this the Tree of Death.

Chairs are strangely frowned upon you know. They cage them these days.

That's my tent that is! See that brown lump? It's retro kitsch.

Well, it's old anyway. And I love it! Although it's about due for a bit of patching and the gingham ribbon that holds it together might be due for replacing...

Mmm, pizza. The Big Session is a really green festival, they insist that all plates, cutlery and napkins are compostable or recyclable. Even the plastic 'glasses' drinks are served in are biodegradable and gone in 2 months. This was even better though, my pizza came on a wooden board. Zero refuse. And damn it tasted fine!

I got to see plenty of folks that I really like and have a good dance and have a good chill out. I didn't partake of the ceilidh, I'm far too clumsy to Strip The Willow! I established however that one pair of jeans is not suitable for jumping up and down, as they slowly started to migrate I had to hold onto them whilst bouncing around. I'm not known for my elegance and that was very inelegant!

***
I've also been out there doing a bit of walking, I didn't think I was going to make it to the top of this hill and two gentlemen stopped to wait with me whilst I reassured my heart that there was no need for it to give up and I really WAS nearly at the top. When I finally made it, this view greeted me. I am so proud of where I live, it's beautiful.

***
This last weekend I went, with Mum and Tim, to visit my little sister in her new house. Now, it's well known that I don't really like cities and I've never been especially fond of Bristol, but she has a really lovely house. We hacked and dug and chopped and pruned and planted in the garden and it's gorgeous out there. We finally rested and made a lovely barbecue, which was obviously smelling so good to Louis that he practiced his best pleading face:

Go on, just one sausage. Look into his eyes.
I think he forgets my vegetarianism. He definitely had little interest in my vegetable kebabs. By the way, buying Halloumi cheese in Bristol is like a treasure hunt gone mad. We failed.

I also got to meet some friends while I was down there, old and new and it was really lovely to have that opportunity. When there's three hours between you it feels like halfway across the world. And with petrol prices hovering between £1.15 & £1.20 it's expensive to drive for three minutes, let alone three hours!

****
I spent a lot of time last week doing some overdue spring cleaning. I attacked, in earnest, my garage. I got rid of an amazing amount of crap and decided that I may as well burn a number of boxes I'd found as my recycling bin was full. I looked around at my neighbours. No washing to be seen. It was a weekday in school hours, I figured I'd be disturbing the minimum amount of people. I figured wrong. The peace of my village was somewhat ruined by a neighbour (I haven't exactly established which one) screaming that having a bonfire was a very stupid thing to do. I had apparently missed some washing. I contemplated shouting back, but the tirade was so vicious, I opted to hide behind my garage. I'm brave me.
So, more gardening is in order, I have been slowly attacking the weeds that are prolific, Mifford is helping as much as she can by laying on them, I'm not entirely sure these attempts at suffocation will be effective, but they say it's the thought that counts.

***
I can't remember if I said this, but by the time we'd finished the walking festival we'd done nearly 40 miles, which I'm pretty pleased with really, considering I'm incredibly unfit. I'll try and work on that this year! Maybe!

***
Tomorrow is July and the countdown to the Cambridge Folk Festival. It's very exciting! Well for me anyway!

***
I got myself an ice cream maker with money that I got for my birthday. The bowl of which refuses to fit into my freezer. Damn. Is it a little OTT to get a new freezer so you can make ice cream? No, I thought not.
I also got myself some extra foodie stuff, a piping bag for icing and the like - I'm enjoying cooking and am going to try my hand at some baking. I bought myself this little book: Cupcake Magic and I love it, I just wish there were more pics in it! Got a fab cookie & biscuit book too.

***
So there you go, that's some of what I've been up to. It's been a busy old time, but a lot of fun too. Just as it should be!

Miff On Cam

I didn't go out walking yesterday, but I did finally get round to uploading a couple of videos of my altogether too cute cat, Mifford.
Sadly, both are without sound, quite a shame indeed.
I have no doubt that these videos only really entertain me.

I think she killed it. She has the most realistic looking fake mouse. It freaks everyone out when they see it and I freak myself out on a regular basis everytime I find it underfoot.

Look how cute she is - even in the appalling graininess.
I'm not entirely sure why she feels the need to attack the pen, but it gives me cause to chuckle. She insists on always sitting in my boxes of books, she does have a well noted thing for boxes, but this one is also right by my side at the PC so we get to hang out and she gets to be in a box. Great all round fun.

I Felt The Earth Move...

There I am, sleeping soundly when I'm sudden being shaken into wakefulness. I open my eyes in the total darkness around me, see the clock says 1am and realise not only is my bed shaking, but my room. Wait! My house is shaking. Hang on...the house is shaking??

Holy crap! It's an earthquake.

Hands gripping the duvet either side of my head I appeared not unlike this:

Mifford exhibited her usual loyalty as she ran from the bedroom as fast as her furry legs would carry her.
I was strangely unconcerned about the earthquake, not bothering to even get out of bed and just rolling over and going back to sleep. It occurs to me now that I possibly spent too much time on the earthquake simulator in the London museum.

Today, Kim and I went out for lunch, we had lots to catch up on and chat about and drove over to a garden centre that we both really like. As we drove through the village we came upon a small junction with a little red car sitting and apparently waiting. What we didn't initially notice was that the little old lady wasn't actually stopped, but rolling forward. We drew level and Kim suddenly said 'Is she going to stop?' The resulting bang that shoved us across the road indicated that she indeed did not intend to give way as the sign and road markings suggested she really ought.

So twice, in as many days, I've been bumped and shaken. And you know what?
That'll do now.

As an aside. I have arthritis. The doctor said so. And it's really bloody sore today. It hurts to type. Feel my woe.

Other random things from this week:
I was given a television, as the portable I'm currently using isn't much cop. When I turned it on, it had a languages menu which the remote wouldn't remove. So I changed the batteries in the remote. Still nothing. I changed the batteries again. Nada. I bought a new remote, assuming the first to be faulty. Well, you know what they say about assumptions. The new one didn't work either. Upon looking at the instruction booklet online, it has a photograph of an entirely different remote. Of course. I ask you!

I rented Betty Blue. On which the subtitles flickered on and off. My (very) basic knowledge of French didn't help me when the subtitles turned themselves off, so I gave up after 15 minutes.

My tights keep falling down today. Which isn't great when you're moving boxes of books.

I cut my hand washing a vase yesterday.

I cut my leg too. Not washing the vase. The cut appeared like magic.

I cut the same hand pushing the aforementioned television into the back of my car. Accident prone? Moi?

There's a large bruise on my left leg, which also appeared like magic.

On the up side. My hair feels really nice today.

Did I mention my arthritis? Did I say it's sore? I did? Well just for the record, it bloody hurts.

There is no cake or chocolate in my house. There is something deeply wrong in the world.

Today is the very beautiful Harriet's birthday. I suggested she imagine I were black and blind whilst I did a rendition of Happy Birthday, but I'm not sure she felt the Stevie Wonder vibe via text message. Although she did say I nearly made her wee, so I think that's a good thing.

I'm just listening to some mp3's, and is it just me but does it sound like Morrissey is singing "Oh Gibbon" towards the end of 'My Love Life'? Either that or I've been watching too much Monkey Business.
And, having just gone to that link I see that Jim Cronin died last year. I had no idea and feel strangely sad about that. He must have still been so young.

Dogsitting

I'm not used to having a dog. I forget that if you put something edible on the floor, it's not likely to remain there for long. I also forget that this pooch:has a predilection for discovering what treasures you have chosen to throw away. Unfortunately, yesterday I chose to throw away an almost empty container of Poppy Red hair dye. The little white Louis is now a little pink. I may have chortled a little.

I was walking him this morning and saw the funkiest blackbird. It had a completely white 'forehead' and was covered with little white spots, so that it looked almost polka-dot. It's been a long time since I've seen any wild albino animals, I guess they're too much of a target to predators, but damn he was funky. I want one!

On Monday when I went to the barn I pulled up in front of the barn doors and noticed a flock of birds splashing in one of the big puddles and realised I was watching dozens of fieldfares all enjoying a good bathing session. I sat in my car and watched as they seemed to play, splashing each other. I can't remember the last time I saw a fieldfare and I wonder if they're on their way to somewhere warmer, stopping briefly in my puddle for a spruce up. I checked, and it seems they winter here, so I'd love to know where they spend their summers.

I've been after a chair for my bathroom for ages and on Monday I spotted the campest purple chair ever, and for a bargain price so it was mine. Or so I thought. Someone else has proclaimed ownership:

It's a bit of a rubbish photo, but Mifford is already covering my camp chair with her furry self. She really believes that what's mine is also hers.

Accessorising

Anyone that knows me will know I have a thing for handbags. And shoes.

I like to believe that Mifford shares this compulsion as she's collecting a fair few accessories of her own.

Behold:

I mean, really, how many collars does one cat need? She's wearing the pink one today, and looking quite fine. A feline needs a collar for every occasion don't you know? She likes to save the little black one for her nights on the tiles. She likes the way the diamantes catch the moonlight or something.

I have this magnet on my fridge, it says: I live in my own world, but it's ok, they know me here.
Never have truer words been spoken.