I've Inherited a Cat (and Thankful Thursday)

This was supposed to by my Thursday post.

I didn't sleep very well last night but as I still feel rested and good this morning I can't complain.  Today it wasn't the dawn chorus that was the 5 o'clock noise though:  it was Comet.  Yesterday it became clear that she has been keeping Andrea company at The Cottage during the day (as sometimes, apparently, had Misty).  Comet was clearly miffed at having her new friend replaced by this old and decidedly less cat-doting Cottage occupant.

If you're not going to let me in I'm going to sulk (sorry about the reflections!).

 I'm just checking you are still here.

So much for 'no animals on the furniture'.

Comet crept into the spare bedroom and managed to stay unnoticed whilst I went out to town.

It looks as though I'm getting softer in my old age. So the thankfulness today comes from Comet and Misty.

Am I Going Soft?

I’m not really a domestic pet person.  Not for myself that is.  Apart from anything else my lifestyle makes it a completely impractical option.

I used to have a cat. I inherited him.  I called him BP:  stood for Big Puss.  I never have been able to recall what his proper name was.  I loved him dearly though.

He loved to be in the room where I was.  That was usually only a problem if he was in the kitchen where, if I was cooking, he would curl up in the middle of the floor when I wasn’t looking.  Invariably when I turned round I stood on him.  It never stopped him doing it.  There were rules though.  He was not allowed in the bedroom.  He would sit at the door but never come over the threshold.

The Family were at The Cottage for dinner last Thursday before I went to Mahunga (Mahia) for the weekend.  When the Family come down the dog, Misty, and the cat, Comet, invariably come too.

When I came to go to bed there was Comet on my bed and settled in for the night.  All commands to leave were met by a slightly contemptuous and very slight opening of one eye.  

Comet

I must have been in an extraordinarily mellow mood that evening because I decided, as she wasn’t on my side of the bed, she could just stay there.  Next morning after going out for a while she returned and settled down on the couch for yet another sleep.  She was most indignant when, on leaving for my weekend away, she was ejected.

I must be going really soft!

At The Cottage

In truth I've so little to post about that even I, never mind you dear reader, would find interesting.  So I'm struggling.  However I've emptied the camera of the few pictures I've taken over the last day or two when not even a wisp of sunlight has made its way through the clouds here on the East coast of sunny Hawkes Bay - possibly the least sunny part of North Island at the moment.  So here's something to be getting on with.

It was warm enough to have the lid of The Handbag - for those of you who haven't been introduced

Catriona and Comet after Friday Dinner - a typical pose many of you will have seen before

And again

Contentment

Comet and Catriona

That Was The Week That Was

It's been quite a week in many ways.  I'm not going to go into details but I suppose the weather has been a barometer of the week: rain storms, floods, gale force winds and hot sunny days mirroring days of despair and days of hope in everything from the serious (friends' situations) to the inconsequential (my ability to hit a croquet ball properly!). 

Flooding at Rotowhenua Road - it has been right over the road.

Morning mists over the orchards in front of The Cottage

Puddles

Friday evening contentment:  Catriona and Comet after dinner

The Four Agreements

On 20 March I posted Blogging As A Reason For Living and mentioned a blog entitled The Last Visible Dog.   I have been reading the blog backwards to see what other gems I could find.  I’ve not been disappointed.  Yesterday I came across The Four Agreements on that blog and, with Katherine’s permission am repeating them here (with my own photo).  I, for one, could really benefit from adopting them although, to be fair to myself, I’d like to think that I’m reasonably ok so far as the first one is concerned.

After all, even though we may never be able to sit on top of the post, we should not stop trying:

 

1.  Be impeccable with your word and deed.
Speak and behave with integrity.  Say only what you mean.  Avoid using words to speak against yourself or to gossip about others.  Use the power of your word and deed in the direction of truth and love.

2.  Don't take things so personally.
Most of what others do isn't because of you.  What others say and do is a projection of their own reality, their own dreams and hopes.  When you don't mind the opinions and actions of others, you won't suffer needlessly.

3.  Don't make assumptions.
Find the courage to ask questions and to express what you really want.  Communicate with others as clearly as you can to avoid misunderstandings, sadness and drama.  With this one agreement, you can completely transform your life.

4.  Do your best.
Even in small day-to-day tasks.  Remember however, that your best is going to change from moment to moment.  It will be different when you are tired or ill than when you are rested or healthy.  Under any circumstances simply do your best and you will avoid self-judgement, self-abuse and regret. 

Taking A Liberty

I'm not one of the world's most enthusiastic pet lovers.  It's not that I don't like animals.  I do.  It's not that I don't like pets.  I do, usually, if they belong to other people.  You can understand that my lifestyle is not a pet-friendly one.  I did inherit a cat.  his name was BP which was short for Big Puss.  I can't recall what his proper name was.  Hew as a wonderful cat.  He would follow me from room to room and settle whereever I settled.  This could be a problem if he decided to settle behind me when I was cooking in the kitchen and he was trodden on many times as I stepped back onto him. It never deterred him, however, from parking his body in the same place the next day.  I'm not sure he was all that bright in that respect.

He was, however very bright in other respects.  He was not allowed in my bedroom and would camp outside the open doon withour ever stepping over it.  When a friend and I lived together we didn't use my bedroom.  When I was in our bedroom alone he would camp outside it.  However when my friend was in it BP would come into the room and ignore me.  He would even jump onto the bed!  He would then look me straight in the eye and dare me to throw him out knowing full well that my friend would defend him.

I loved him and his death in my arms by injection by the vet at the age of about 17 saddened me greatly

I have now been adopted as another poor fool by Comet, the Geddes family cat who now regards me as part of the Geddes clan.  I'm very flattered by that although I recognise that I am being regarded as a mug but.......

if I want to wash on your bed...

 

who do you think you are that's going to stop me?

 

I'm still watching you

 

Now I'm asleep and you can go back to what you were doing

And It's Only 10am

It's been a strange morning and I've only been a participating part of it for three and a half hours. The sun is shining out of a flawless sky and yet I'm sitting in my study hidden away from it. Why? I should be out in the sun doing 'things'. I could go for a ride or visit the open air 'market' or do the garden or even wash and clean the car. But, no, I'm hidden away listening to a Mozart Mass (I've finished the four Brahms Symphonies this morning already) and doing indoor things albeit with the ranch sliders wide apart. So be it.

I picked up the phone earlier to ring a friend and when I scrolled to the phonebook discovered that the software within it had scrambled the contents with the following result:

This is serious. Gone are the days when the telephone had a little slider underneath it (or built in in some cases) with the numbers written on it. I don't know any one's telephone number because they are all stored electronically and provided that I can recall the name of the person I wish to telephone the number will be called at the press of a button. So I'm in a quandary. I expect that I shall simply put a list of numbers on the wall and cope with the massive inconvenience it will cause in my life.

Then I decided that I would treat myself to a bacon buttie (bacon sandwich for those who are not familiar with the term 'buttie') and a cup of tea on the deck for breakfast. Bacon butties are never worth the effort unless made by someone else and, preferably, eaten on the boat crossing between Stornoway and Ullapool at 0630 on a cold winter's morning. But that didn't stop me. Of course it wasn't worth the effort and I'm still trying to get bits of bacon from between my teeth despite possessing every gadget known to dentistry which can be used upon ones self.

I really do not like wasps. I love bees. A bee sting hurts me a great deal more than a wasp's sting. I will quite happily share my space with a bee but not with a wasp. There are a lot of wasps around HeeBeeGeBeEs (The Cottage's proper name) at the moment. And that's what they give me. So I sat having my bacon buttie in the sun with a book and a can of Raid with which to defend myself. So far as I know I avoided actually spraying the buttie but I did score a few direct hits on the wasps.

Then a very peculiar and, in its way, touching thing (in more ways than one) happened. Comet, who had been sitting motionless in between stalking bouts came trotting up (do cats trot?) with a mouse in her mouth. She promptly deposited the gift and demonstration of her prowess on my naked foot. Unfortunately it wasn't dead and, using my foot as a springboard launched a bid for freedom. How do cats move that quickly? Comet got her name from the fact that there was a comet in the sky the night Wendy and Martin acquired her. One might be mistaken for thinking it related to her speed. The last I saw of her she was wandering off towards The House with the mouse in her mouth.

What an exciting life I do lead. I wonder what the rest of the morning will bring. Ah, yes, I forgot:

A Near Perfect Day

Yesterday was Monday. And it was a lovely day. I've said that before because I like to feel that every day is a lovely day. But, with apologies to Orwell, some days are more lovely than others. And yesterday was one of the more lovely ones.

I started off the day with the intention of proposing a non-busy day. The sun was shining. The washing went in at the crack of dawn. A lazy breakfast on the deck. Then some emails and transfer photos from camera, blog, iron (and watch StrictlyCome Dancing for the 22nd November which arrived on Friday), try and finish my Christmas cards, hoover the house, and generally footle around.

Wendy was coming down for morning coffee. No croquet. No petanque. Yes, the day was to be an Easy Day. No deadlines. No pressures. I am a very lucky person. Sometimes I wish I believed that there was a God to thank!

How did the day turn out?

It started as planned. Then Wendy came down for coffee. We got engrossed in our currently favourite topics of Stephen Hawking's Brief History of Time and Richard Dawkins' various propositions. We eventually dragged ourselves into the realisation of the need to achieve rather than just enjoy our conversation. So Wendy cut the grass round the agapanthus and other plants getting swamped in front of The Cottage whilst I hoovered and we both listened to music at full volume. More conversation over a long lunch and then off to pick up the children and have ice cream.

Off to town and shopping. I returned to a lovely garden rose on the table and then a wonderful Thai curry up at The House with the family. By this time any thoughts of more work were abandoned. Wendy suddenly discovered a apricot tree. It's odd what you can find hidden a few metres from the house when you have 5 acres of mixed tree and pasture and garden around the house. So we collected apricots. Or rather Fraser scaled the tree and dropped the apricots to David whilst Wendy harvested the reachable ones.

And Comet joined in

Then, as the dusk fell, the children went grass sledging down a bank.

Late to bed and then Wendy and I settled down to more chat and some wine as a hard-working Martin returned from a day as a dentist. I should add that Wendy does work too! She was having a day off.

Days don't come much better than yesterday.