A Tale of Two Kitties

My apologies to Charles Dickens.



I seem to have a new issue here.




"Our" Ginger (in front), is as happy as a cat can be, and though we have stolen him away from his former owners, only over the back fence, that is what it is and cannot be helped. He seems to love us. He seems to love me. Whatever magic I performed on him, he loves me. I love him.



His brother, whom he runs around with, naturally, has recently taken a real shine to me as well.

This is more problematic for me. To steal away one kitty seems unfortunate. To steal away two, well, that's just downright mean.

Now, apart from the fact that our garden, which to be honest is still half wilderness (oh, I have let it languish), is chock full of cats, these two seem to have made a friend of me. But only in recent nights, has Big Brother spent some serious time here. Last year he wouldn't give me the time of day. Now, he is all over the scratchings I give him behind the ear. He can't get enough of it. And even tonight, for the first time, he did that weird thing that cats do, that kneading/chewing thing that, frankly, freaked me out the first time little Ginger did it. I find it strangely endearing and cute now, but it's still - weird. Cats are really quite extraordinary creatures.

So the other night, Big Bro and Ginger were inside, but the kitchen door was always open - still, I found as I was readying myself for bedtime, that suddenly I had not one, but two ginger cats lying on the bed. Hello?

In the end Big Bro went out. I was left with the usual little guy (who still wanted out at 5 am, thank you very much).

Tonight. Well, you see the time, past midnight. There are still two gingers inside. I don't see the possibility of either of them leaving. They have been in all evening. I was on the phone from 10 pm chatting to my family for a while, then on the phone again chatting to my husband. In the meantime, I watched as they firstly, were lying down placidly on the rug, then one was on top of the other, and I don't think it was just play (I think Ginger was a bit peeved, to be honest), then they played cat and mouse behind the sofa, then they lay down again.

Having finished my phone call and seeing only Ginger, I assumed (never assume with cats) that indeed Big Bro had gone out the open kitchen door. Except when I checked, it was only a tiny bit ajar, not enough to let a cat out.

Sure enough, I pushed open the door to the small guest room, which had been ajar, and heard: "purrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr purrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr purrrrrrrrrrrrrrr". He has a very, very loud purr.

Here we sit in the living room, me, Ginger, and Big Brother. As I will need to shut the kitchen door soon, I think I may be hosting two small, perfectly formed ginger cats tonight.

Big Bro is still purring, on the sofa. He's just lying there, curled up, and purring, for goodness sake.

Sweet dreams, all.

Addendum: Ginger came in at 5:00 am and batted me on the nose, and they both went out.

Winter Wonderland

As promised, Siberia has sent us a snow storm.

They say this is the worst snowfall in 18 years, but to be honest, I've lived here 20 years and I've never seen anything like it!

Very pretty, of course, and I even enjoyed venturing out in it (complete with three layers plus parka, earmuffs, heavy gloves, and the boots I purchased for the Chicago weather, which I never expected to use here). I joined the other few intrepid souls and took a little walk down to the shops. Half of which were closed!

The "Catford Cat", normally black, turned white.

The reason I had such leisure time to go walking in the snow is because London has ground to a halt. Hence, no trains, no buses, short of walking to work I was never going to make it (nor could anyone else, so my boss wisely decided not to open the office today). As I contemplated the white garden from my kitchen window, I noticed one hardy little kitty (the lively Blackie) wasn't put off by the whole thing.

Last I measured, it was 5 inches. I would hazard a guess that at least a further inch has fallen, and it hasn't stopped yet.



So that's, ooo, a whole half a foot? And I remember drifts of 6 feet, growing up in the Midwest ...

Still, this is unusual for the South East of England, to say the least. I would imagine they don't have quite as many gritters and snow-plow trucks here.

I wonder what tomorrow will bring?

The Wild Bunch

Oh my.

This morning, I heard some of that caterwauling, that I know means cat confrontation, but as Ginger was inside I wasn't worried.

Minutes later I returned to the kitchen and saw a knock-down, drag-out, tooth-and-nail fight between little Blackie and bigger Blackie.

I stepped outside and said, "Oi! Kitties! Cut it out, no fighting!"

To my surprise, they stopped. There was a bit of a face-off, then bigger Blackie sloped off, as you can see on the right.

The other black and white, well, he came in to the garden just as I came out, perhaps to referee, or just to watch?

Another one came to watch but sensibly, stayed well out of it, good old Whitey.

As soon as he heard the kerfuffle he was there, observing from a distance.

Meanwhile, Ginger was inside, safe and sound.

I did go out again and comfort little Blackie, who is really a bit of a dear. I know Ginger doesn't like him but he's such a cute, funny and fiery little guy, and he loves having a look round in here, I can't neglect him. He was a bit muddy, but none the worse for wear.

Meantime Whitey came into the garden, to have a poke round the battlefield.

And then shortly after, he took the long walk down the right fence (has he done this before? He must have but I've never observed it) and we, well, we had a look at each other.

I love that guy. He's a real peace-loving cat. Never, if he can help it, gets into a fight. Not that I'm aware of, or at least, not on my patch ...

Thank goodness Ginger missed it all! I think it might have riled him up a bit much, as he can be a little bruiser too ...

A Happy New Year

From all of us

to all of you -



Wishing everyone a heartfelt, happy, healthy and prosperous New Year.

It looks like "growing your own" is an even better idea this year.

Happy Gardening everyone in 2009!

Ginger's Christmas

Kitty had a Christmas present today.

Well, it is 12 whole days of Christmas, so presents can come at any time!

He had a look, and thought, hmmm...

Then he went for it.

Oh, yes. Catnip flavoured fun.

It hasn't stopped him going for the sofa in terms of a scratching post, but we're not too bothered about it. Kitty rules. I think he went for the sofa arm just to prove that this is his kingdom.

Mostly he comes in and sleeps, be it during the day, or overnight. Eats, of course.

I have altered the "special bowl" and taken away the flip-up mechanism; thankfully that came away easily. If you have a cat that is good at this, I would love to know. Step on the pedal, get your food, step away without freaking out.

I also altered the bowl itself for the lid to stand much more upright, and not be like a little kitty Sword of Damocles hanging over his ginger head while he tries to eat. Works much better now, and at least keeps his food fresh. I actually broke it in the process, meaning that I broke off some of the plastic that was making it hover too much, and now it just stands open nicely when I choose it to.

He's happy, I'm happy.

Happy Kitty Christmas!

The 11 Days of Christmas

That is what I have, between Christmas Day and back-to-work at my lovely job on 5th January 2009. Eleven days of me, my husband, my house and my garden. To do what I want! Mostly, so far, that has involved cooking, but then it would, wouldn't it?


And by the way, a Happy Christmas to one and all. I hope yours was lovely.


There is so much to do back there. Yes, it's the fallow season but in the few weekends before Christmas, when it was dry, I managed to turn this









into this. A start.

I did some weeding and cutting in the left border

but the herb border needs some serious TLC.


I have also discovered that Rocket (or Arugula, I think it is called Stateside) is very much a winter green. We have had frosts and rain, but still this plucky leaf, that I planted in the autumn, is thriving.




So I have picked a large bunch, currently refreshing in my sink. I shall pack it up and indeed use it over the next week or so. And I shall leave that pretty bunch for further picking! Yum.

The weather, for the time of year, is fair and fine. Cold, yes, but I think I spoke of "cold" being a relative term - for those of you in the Midwest of the States, my family included, I send you warm hugs, because it really is cold. 0 degrees Farenheit is cold. I don't think I can even translate that to Celsius, knowing only that it might, just might get to 1 or 2 below 0 Celsius here. To me it feels very cold, but there is a sharp easterly wind at the moment. I had to wear gloves today (shock!). Over in Chicago, it is much, much colder.

Still, I think it means, if you garden there, you don't suffer from snails and slugs the way we do (witness that gorgeous Hosta in my parents garden).

Here's to some good gardening over the next week of work-less-ness!

Solstice

It's Winter.

From this day forward, the time turns around and the days get longer - if you can imagine such a thing!

Some of you are snow bound - some of you are expecting snow - us here in London, we have very temperate weather. It's going to get "colder" as Christmas approaches.

"Cold" is a relative term for me, being from the upper Midwest - "cold" to me means ridiculous, unfathomable, like zero degrees, with a wind chill well below that. And I'm talking Farenheit.

Here in London, it might actually sneak down to the freezing point (zero celsius, 32 farenheit). Maybe. Or else we'll just hover in the lower 40's.

That's cold, here.

Always remember, in the words of one of the greatest poets; "if winter comes, can spring be far behind?"

Happy Winter Solstice.

Questionable idea

Well, I received something in the post today that I had ordered a few weeks ago, called a "Cat Flip".

In the interests of cat food hygiene, and to stop my kitchen (it can even permeate the flat) smelling like cat food, it seemed like a good idea at the time. I thought perhaps this would also save me throwing away dish after dish of cat food that sits there all day, hardly touched, and is nasty by the time I return home from work, or when he (Ginger boy) comes back in from prowling around outside, or when he gets up from his (all day) nap ... the list is endless and I have thrown away mounds of cat food by now.

Also, I am a complete sucker for gadgets like this.

This is the idea:

That's my foot, obviously, and not the cat's. It says on the box, "Cats quickly master the pedal action that flips the lid open and closed".

Oh yeah?

Or maybe, how about, cat doesn't master the flip action, the lid snaps shut and you have one freaked out and pissed off cat?

Ginger has not taken to it yet, and I have resorted to this

A packet of spaghetti to prop it open - I started with a potato there on the pedal, but that seemed to put him off, even though what food is in there is a favourite, so I looked for something long and flat.

I'm so tired of throwing away cat food.

Even Big Ginger (a regular visitor now) gave it a try - and he is one jumpy, shy little critter.

I know, it's hard to tell them apart, but I can.

They had a little conflab and a big old "meow" at me, like, "what do you think this is?"

Then they decided to scarper.

Ginger is of course back now - in and out, in and out when he can (when I'm here and the kitchen door is open - it's very temperate this evening), and now he's sitting at the table with me doing his kitty ablutions.

I bet if I put some bits of roast chicken, or beef, in the bowl they'd be on to it in no time. Those lucky kitties!

Still, the verdict is out on this one, and we'll see if it is consigned to the back of cupboard ...

It also says on the box, "can quickly separate the three sections" - I have a feeling I'll be doing that a lot!

In the meantime, I hope that you are enjoying the music - I found the Playlist function on Bren's blog (did I mention this before?) and in keeping with the season I have added my, possibly, two favourite Christmas songs of all time. Happy Holidays and all that!

My Hiatus

Greetings! Since that last post in October, I have been through The Affordable Art Fair


http://www.affordableartfair.com/


Of which I am the Financial Controller, and then shortly after that finished, I flew to visit my family in the Midwest of the USA.


So without further ado, I am going to introduce you to the "English Garden" I created for my parents a couple of years ago.


Now, I didn't do a whole lot of research, like Zones in the US, when I started planting this little garden - I believe the Midwest is Zone 5 (do correct me if I'm wrong!). All I knew was the kind of feel I wanted to create, in this space next to the house as deliniated below.






Beyond the path, is a wonderful long lawn, a lovely suburban back yard (where we had many a game of badminton when I was growing up). My brief was the space you see above.



It turned out quite nicely, as you can see. There are several good garden centres around (although sadly one of them has closed now) and we found some choice stuff - what I would always include in an "English Garden" would be Lavender, Lady's Mantle (alchemilla mollis), Clematis, Jasmine (that sadly didn't make it past the first season), Stachys Byzantium (Lamb's Ears, again sadly didn't survive), a Hellebore (wow I'm jealous!), a type of Cranesbill Geranium ... well, I can't remember everything I planted several October's ago, but on the whole, I'm pleased with the progress and I had a chance to get a really good look at things, rather than my visits at Christmas time when you might as well forget any kind of gardening at all.

The site seems to love most of what I planted, even if it has changed over the years. These are early shots the following Spring, after my first planting exercise.

What really took, to my amazement and extreme jealousy (why can't I have one like this in my garden?) is the Clematis.

And then there's the Hosta, in the middle. Crikey.

This of course is as it's dying back, in the autumn time - my parents love it, though, and never cut it down. It just comes back year, after year. My goodness, I find it huge. I don't get Hostas this big!

It was wonderful to see it in temperate times again - and I was most fortunate as amazingly, the weather in early November was mostly in the 70's! Not quite record breaking, apparently, but pretty close. I put some bulbs down, as well.

Not only did I get to spend Halloween in America (it's been a long time!) but I also, fantastically, got to celebrate my wonderful father's birthday with him, and the family.

All in all, a fabulous trip!

To Autumn

by the brilliant John Keats.


SEASON of mists and mellow fruitfulness!
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;
To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells.



Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep,
Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twinèd flowers;
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cider-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.



Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,—
While barrèd clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.

Trapped!

Do any of you remember Whitey?

I hadn't seen him for such a long time, all summer really. One has to worry when one doesn't see a cat around, especially one of the regulars. Whitey was one of the first cats I ever saw in the garden.

Well thankfully I have seen him recently, mostly on the shed in the garden behind ours, his perch of choice. At the weekend, he wandered back into our garden, and had a good little roll around in the sunny soil. All well and good.

However, he must have been having a nosey round (as cats do - curiousity and all that) and in come the Gingers.

I heard that unmistakable caterwaul, emanating from behind the shed, and realised that yes, there was a cat confrontation.

I try to encourage the boys to be nice, especially "our" cat, Little Ginger. But no, he is a bit of bruiser.

In the end, the day being so nice and sunny, the Gingers decided on a nice sleep, hence cutting off Whitey's escape.

I waited to see how things would pan out, but as usual in the cat world, things move ver-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-y slo-o-o-o-o-o-wly. Whitey even managed a little nap, sitting up. Whilst the boys, well they were just enjoying the sunshine.

Two hours later and Whitey is still cut off.

Eventually he decides it's time to take action.

Should I ...

And there he goes. That can't be easy for a cat, I mean it is a six foot fence! I was very impressed. Check that tail, eh?

Big Ginger finally clocked that the prey had fled.

Who had the last laugh?