Tag Archives: white cat

Cat Rules

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It all started at breakfast.

After feeding everyone and doing my morning chores, I came inside and made myself my usual bowl of porridge and a large mug of tea.  At last, my breakfast.

And today Monster joined me (and, yes, I abhor cats that sit on the kitchen table and no cat has ever been allowed to do this but Monster will not be told so I’ve given up).

However, there are Rules.

Like no sitting on my iPad – so that’s ignored.

And then there is the Rule about keeping off my breakfast.  No stealing.

Words failed me when Monster did this!  A new low.

So, we had words.  I reminded Monster about the Rules and he retaliated by sulking and I felt awful.  I didn’t enjoy my porridge or mug of tea at all.  I wasn’t supposed to.

And, as you can see, I am the Master of my own shed too.

There was absolutely no way on God’s green earth I was parting with a Tunnocks teacake, though Monster did wangle a piece of shortbread out of me which he shared with Pepper.

In the end, bored of the constant scrounging and general getting in the way, I put Monster in his basket for a break.  I have a very large felted sheep order so I had to get on.

Monster liked his basket, though it is always a bit of a snug fit.

He really needs a bigger basket and I don’t have one – this is one I brought back from Mum’s house when we cleared it out (so now I must go off to look at large old baskets on Ebay for the ruddy cat!)  Anything for peace and quiet and my sanity.

The Vegetables

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A short blog because I am exhausted.

Again, my Saturday was my Friday and I went to Turriefield to weigh, pack and label vegetables for distribution.

I find it a bit discombobulating when I swap days and so I spent the rest of my time thinking it doesn’t feel like a Saturday but am I wrong?  Still, there were enough of us volunteers and everything was packed and ready to go out by lunchtime and I left clutching this week’s vegetables plus some odd carrots for the ponies.

After a nice lunch with friends at the local church café I went home and made my usual daily sheep for selling later.  The stock is building back up, albeit very slowly.

And suddenly I feel exhausted.  I don’t feel I have done much but I could easily not cook supper, have a bath and go to bed.

But I don’t have that luxury.

I still have to transcribe two weeks of the Diaries (1956 now) every evening before I can give up completely.  Meanwhile, I dreaming of my bed and being asleep.  Maybe it’s just a blood sugar dip and I need a medicinal Tunnocks tea cake!

Me, Me, Me!

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It is always me, me, me with Monster.  Never anyone else.

He was on full annoying-cat mode yesterday afternoon while I was trying to work.

He got in the way, he wanted attention, he wanted what I was working on and he wanted to take up as much space as possible and I wanted him to stop.

“Am I in your way?”
“Yes you are, mate!”

So, realising he wasn’t going to stop or go away, I cleared a space at the end of my table (which is not easy) and encouraged Monster to go and look out of the window.  He shuffled off grudgingly.

And eventually Monster settled and I thought that was it and got on with my work, again.

But Monster wasn’t going to enjoy himself, (as long as I knew) or settle.  He had other plans for me.

After a bit more annoying, and getting in the way, I evicted Monster from my work table telling him it was his basket or nothing now.  I could take no more.  Yes, I could’ve let him out but Pepper was itching to follow and run away.

So, Monster grudgingly (again – he does a good grudge) chose the basket.  It was a snug fit but at least he gave me some much needed peace and quiet.

Next time I’m not opening the door to my shed. I am too nice.

Gussie and ‘Ster

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I would be lying if I said it’s been a busy day.

The same old, same old – just as I like it.

That was until the sheep came home.

It started with Maggie wanting in the house for a biscuit.  She asked so nicely. How could I refuse.

Note, Gussie and ‘Ster were behind and about to have a row.  Lambie wanted no part of this (just his biccie, pelase) and everyone else is hoping they will stop. I was rather worried for my Eggbox parked close by.

There was a clash of horns but nothing much.  At this stage, Lambie has disowned them and Barrel was hoping they would stop now.

So I shouted at Gussie and ‘Ster telling them to “pack it in”.   I love the look of them both almost denying all knowledge – “who, us?”

But then Gussie was spoiling for another go – he had that look in his eye – one of steely determination.

Gussie started squaring up to ‘Ster who did not need this grief but would give as good as he gets.

I decided on a diversionary tactic and called ‘Ster over. I told him to let it go, Gussie was not worth it and then shovelled biscuits in as a reward for being the bigger sheep about it all.  Lambie’s raging face was a picture.  He hates hassle, rows and roughhousing.

The sheep all settled down again.

Asking, Always Asking

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I took this photo on Sunday evening after we had finished supper.

Nothing is ever wasted here, and OH was busy stripping the roast chicken joint for any meat before the bones were made into stock, ready for another meal.

Monster had already stolen OH’s chair at the table and was hopeful, always hopeful.  Everyone got a piece(s) except for Pepper who has a bad reaction/intolerance to chicken.  She got a pile of her biccies, which she adores so didn’t really mind.  I think she now understands that chicken makes her miserable and ill.

Breakfast today was a windy affair.

And then very rainy so I spent some of my morning attacking the 1985 Diaries – tidying them up and making the format similar to the one I have at last settled on 75 years later!  It hasn’t helped either that WordPress changed their methods too.

I still can’t read some of the diary pages.  If you fancy a stab at it, let me know your results.  All help is most welcome.

Later in the day, waiting for me on my doorsteap were the ducks who were asking for their tea.  Everyone always asks for something around here.

And then ‘Ster appeared too.  He was asking for biscuits – obviously.

As was Gussie.  He does love a biccie.

Pepper was optimistic she might get something.

And Monster was asking to be let out.  My family are very communicative.