Here We Go Again

It was not from lack of trying, or any kind of laziness - as my faithful readers know (and thank you for being faithful) I had a bad year, last year.  I kind of let the garden go.  I had some tomatoes in bags to harvest in September, and they were nice, but after July, I lost heart.  I had a hole in my heart so big, it took me a while to get back to normal.

Normal.  Normal will never be the same again, and on this day in the USA, I wish every mother a very Happy Mother's Day.

There, that's done. Back to the garden.

Yikes!

This winter was the hardest I have ever known in the UK since I've lived here.  I worry very much about Global Warming.  I worry that we are losing the Gulf Stream due to rising seas from the polar ice caps melting.  There was not so much snow, as compared to previous years, but it was a long, cold time. And it's not over.  We should have had, by now, some better weather, not just a day here and there, but it doesn't seem to be forthcoming.

But thankfully, the Bank Holiday weekend last weekend was, surprisingly wonderful.

Time to cut the grass!

You may remember how bad it was last year, the first time, when it had gotten so long - and I left it and left it.  This year, I really didn't mean to - I was hoping in March that I would have a window of opportunity to do it, but no.  Not with this crazy winter.  And then, I left for Chicago to visit my Dad for two weeks.

On the 4th of April, I left the UK and it was snowing.  Yes, snowing.  I arrived in Chicago and it was nice - nicer, which was to last only two or three days.  When I left Chicago to return home, on the 19th of April, it was snowing.  Something wrong here.

So, at last, just last weekend, I had the opportunity to cut the grass.  The long, long grass.  Ouch.  Thankfully, my trusty mower did it again - something I don't want to put it through often!

I am left with the need to weed the left and the right.  I'm not sure about the left - it is looking okay.  I thought I might cut back the Ceanothus on the right, which has gone crazy, but perhaps not.  I'm excited for it to flower (it's very late).  The Choisya on the left, again, going mental but that has been there for many years now, and I don't feel the need to cut that back either.  I'm not sure what I can do for the left border apart from some heavy weeding.

And it seems like a long time ago now, that Bank Holiday weekend, but someone else was enjoying that sunshine as well.

May the sun come back again, in abundance and warmth, very soon.

Buy this book

Buy it now.  I have just finished - it's an easy read, but it is very eye-opening, and very enjoyable, and really, it's a must read.  I love this man, James Bowen.  I love this cat, Bob.  It is one of the best books I've read in a long time.

 A Street Cat Named Bob

As my ginger cat goes a little bit nuts on the windowsill.  Why?  Because they are cats.  And our particular cats happen to be (have been) ginger (orange tabby, I guess you would say in the States). 

Ginger Cats Rule OK.

Slightly crazy?  Oh yes.  Unbelievably loving?  Oh yes. 

Go Ginger cats, go.

Back soon with an update on the actual garden!  Finally!

Gingerella

Says "hi"

Meeeooowwww.

Kitties Leave, Kitties Arrive

As you know, our Ginger is gone.

Our beautiful, special, white-whiskered boy who loved us so much.

You may remember the neighbours who moved in with their Mitzi.  They've just moved to the West Indies!  Nice for some, bit of a change of weather, hey?

Mitzi is happily ensconced, I believe, with her "grandmother" who always looked after her when they were away.  And is queen of the garden, so I understand.

We had some new neigbours move in upstairs recently.  They found a mouse in their flat.  And promptly acquired a cat.

Now, this cat can't go out into the garden at will - there is no direct access from upstairs.  So this kitty will need to be an indoor cat, unless they actually bring her downstairs, round the back, and let her have a little run around.

I don't think cat owners usually do that.  I mean, you don't take your cat for a walk, do you?

No, it looks like the garden belongs to .... hello.

You all remember that there was a second ginger cat, right?  The sister/friend/compatriot of Ginger.  A female (yes, I checked).

You know that she came by often, to hang out with her bro.  And us, too.

After our boy left this earthly plane, the other one, and let's just start as we mean to go on and call her Gingerella, started coming on by again.  An evening here and there maybe, for a scratch of the cheek more than for a bite.  Checking on in to say "hi".

But one evening, after about two weeks, I walked into the house after a long day's work.  Husband was working away, and so it was just me - I was taking off my jacket in the sitting room and I heard, "meow".

I nearly jumped out of my skin.

What I had been longing to hear every night when I got home, there it was.

Hello?

Gingerella had, for the first time ever, decided to come in the cat flap.

Since then, Gingerella has moved in.

We also have a new cat.  She has not left our side, much, since that moment she decided to make this house, her home too.

I could over-analyse too much and say does she miss him, and therefore stay with us?  Or did she always want to be with us, but couldn't because of him?  Because she sure as heck does love the socks off us.

Oh my goodness, she has a purr like a drill hammer. I have never, ever met a cat with such a purr.  She's gotten much more vocal, too - what started as a very polite "meow" is now "uh, hello, I have something to say".  I still haven't worked out what the meow's mean.  But we sure as heck love this girl.  And I feel bad that yet again, we have taken someone else's cat - well.  We didn't make her.  Or him.  I don't know.  This cat loves us top to bottom and we love her back.  And that's really what matters.

Ginger, the cat

It is with a heavy heart that I have to report, that our beautiful boy, Ginger, Mr. Wiskers, little scoodgums, is no more. 

It turns out he was much older than we thought.  Given the fact that he adopted us, we didn't know. Double the years, actually.  Wow, looking at him, who would know he was already 12 years old.  And he had a kidney problem, that would kill him in a very short space of time.  We did everything we could.


From the moment we met, it was love at first sight.  He looked at me from the top of the fence, and he had me at "meow".

I didn't know who he was.  I wasn't expecting, nor frankly did I want a cat, when I moved into this flat with large garden.  I was still missing my gorgeous dog, Beardsley.  The garden just happened to be awash with cats, and I found it fascinating.  I didn't think one of them, a very very special, ginger one, would pick me out, shake me up, and make me his own.

I forgot that I used to be a cat person, a long time ago.

I forgot that I could give cat love.  Cats seem to appreciate where I am able to scratch.  And this little tiny guy, who was full of cat warmth and love, taught me how to love again, cat wise.

He was a sunworshipper.

A fighter.

A lover.

 A catnip lover.

A brother.  This is key.  They loved each other.

And for some reason, this cat and I, well, we were it.  We were the Top Cats together.

He was my crazy white-whiskered pretty boy with a passion for life and a love that cannot be matched.

He was my soulmate.

Stay tuned.  There has been a development on the cat situation.


But long live Ginger, in our hearts, forever.

Belatedly

I wish you all a Happy New Year.

Unfortunately, I have lost one of my most faithful readers.  A keen gardener, and a highly talented artist.  Tim, you will be missed.

Here's to some good gardening in 2013.  And the music will resume soon, when I can find another user-friendly playlist.