I'm sorry, there are no doubt many things I could blog about but right now we're a week away from a General Election and the only things I want to mention are the leaders TV debates and #bigotgate on Twitter and the insane leaflet an independent candidate has put through our door, and the fact that every billboard in our area is plastered with Conservative campaigning posters...
Ooh, I'd demonstrate with a picture if I'd managed to take one, but one of the Conservative posters has had a big sticker stuck along the bottom which reads "Paid 4 by a tax dodger", which completely charmed me when I saw it this evening.
All of which means I'm fairly boring to anyone in the UK who's not interested in politics, I'm very boring to everyone not in the UK, and I'm potentially pretty offensive to anyone who doesn't agree with me on immigration and education and benefits and inheritance tax and whether Gordon Brown singlehandedly caused the global recession. So, you know, maybe safer not to blog. I'll just keep Twittering, cos of course there's no potential for causing boredom or offence there, right?
Three things for Tuesday: Good cats, tea sets, honey
Three things making me happy this Tuesday:
Good cats.
While Xander roams around the house and urinates in inappropriate places (we now have silver foil spread in every corner of the sitting room in an attempt to discourage him, which looks insane), and chases Lucy our established cat, and wails his head off at being confined to a single building, and eats other people's food, Willow quietly eats her own food, and curls up in corners, and goes sweetly to sleep in my lap. And uses the litter tray and only the litter tray, and doesn't chase anybody. I am very fond of Willow.
Pretty tea sets.
Abstract bought me this teapot/teacup set for my birthday, and I have since added to it with the matching sugar bowl and milk jug. Today I used it for drinking rose-flavoured tea which I bought from Betty's Tea Rooms in York.
Crystallised honey.
For some unknown reason, the standard clear honey I buy from Tesco sometimes comes crystallised halfway up the jar. It doesn't melt in tea and coffee quite as quick, but it tastes amazing. Yesterday I had it in a sandwich with white bread and butter, and it was fab.
After Xander had done some hopeful wailing at the kitchen/conservatory door, we let him and Willow out to explore the kitchen. After which he became very very interested in the kitchen/hall door, so we let them out to explore a bit more of the house.
So then he chased Lucy and sprayed urine on the side of the dark green sofa, which has now been cleaned with a bleach solution to kill the scent and is very slightly, yes you guessed it, bleached.
Obviously we're going to have to let him and Willow have the run of the house one day, but at the moment it's not working out too well. So yesterday Xander was, once again, mostly confined to the kitchen. Poor Xander.
"But I know this thing opened yesterday..."
"Maybe if I put my paw up here and look hopeful..."
Editing again! I've taken on one editing project to cover a Samhain editor's temporary absence for urgent medical treatment, and it's super-fun so far. The book is nice and clean, which makes my job easier, and it's a totally absorbing romantic suspense story - I got to the end of my quota of pages yesterday almost before I realised, and was kind of sad to stop.
Obviously, I'm editing for a reason that I wish didn't exist - although I interact with the Samhain staff mostly only via email and IM, we've been working together such a long time everyone kind of feels like family, and it's awful when one of us has serious health problems. But it's nice to be able to offer something of practical benefit, so I'm very glad I started off editing for Samhain because it's been relatively easy to pick up the threads of doing it again.
Black cats! Xander and Willow are settling in. Xander is very friendly - demands stroking and the other day charmed me by rolling onto his back so I could stroke his tummy. Willow is much quieter, and possibly still recovering from her neutering operation, but we've been honoured by having her curl up on our knees some of the time.
Today we let Xander through into the kitchen for the first time since he wee-ed on Sparkler's PE kit, having taken the precaution of moving said PE kit and putting catfood down in the corners of the room. Apparently this discourages cats from using the corners as litter trays, because they instinctively don't want to soil their food areas. Xander wandered around sniffing everything, climbed on the back of the chair to look out of the window, then went back to his nice safe space of the conservatory.
They've both had upset stomachs, which has led to the most unholy smell coming from the conservatory and permeating the whole of the house. But that seems to be clearing up now, and mopping the floor with a bleach solution has worked wonders for neutralising the smell.
Long socks! I'm tall and I have big feet, both of which factors lead to me getting a sad little cold space of skin in between the top of my socks and the bottom of my leggings. I realised I should fix this when I found myself continually borrowing Abstract's socks, and finding them much, much more satisfactory. So I just damn well went and bought some men's socks for myself. They come nearly up to my knees, they're super-soft, comfortable and draught-proof. Success! And why on earth I waited till I was thirty-seven to do this is anyone's guess.
Ladies, gentlemen and all blog readers, I'd like you to meet the two latest members of the Howson family: Xander and Willow.
I make no apology for the extreme geekitude of their names, but I do apologise for the quality of this picture. You'll notice a strange green blur, which is the reflection of the camera strap, because this was the first time the cats seemed properly relaxed and I was scared to disturb them so I took the picture through the door of the conservatory.
The conservatory has been set up as Cat Central at the moment, complete with food, litter tray, beds, fleece covering the sofa, catnip sprinkled around, and climbing frame/scratching post/box-with-holes, in which Willow, the very shy girl, instantly took refuge.
They've been with us about six hours so far. They've eaten, drunk, sniffed catnip, Willow has used the litter tray and Xander, on a brief trip into the kitchen, has helpfully made similar use of Sparkler's clean, dry, folded PE kit which was in her PE bag ready for school on Monday. They've also purred in response to attention, very very slightly - it's like they don't know quite know how to react to people.
Lucy, our already established cat, is aghast and appalled. But fortunately, due to Cat Central, she doesn't have to interact with them till she's a bit more used to the idea. And until Xander learns that PE bags are not litter trays.
(Xander making himself comfortable on Abstract's chair. In the bottom left corner you can see the climbing frame/scratching post/box-with-holes in which Willow is hiding.)
The day before Christmas Eve, 2009, Abstract and I wrapped our beautiful tabby cat, Panny, in a fleece, and, leaving our daughters in tears waving goodbye at the window, drove him on his last journey to the vet.
At the vet, as the injection took effect and he went limp under our hands, Abstract and I both cried as well.
Panny was about ten years old, and dying of an incurable and unpreventable disease. His mother, Poppy, had been our first cat, and when she had her one litter of kittens Sparkler and I watched them being born, and Sparkler named them as they emerged. Sparkler was nearly three at the time, which is why they ended up named Sammy, Panny, Jessie and Tessie. I told my sister the names over the phone, but she got confused and ended up telling my mother their names were Sammy, Hammy, Hessie and Tessie, which is even odder than their real names. We sold three of the kittens, but we kept Panny because he was the most insane - and therefore most amusing - one.
The day after he died we buried him in the garden, and cried again, and his disrespectful adopted sister, Lucy, came and looked with interest at the freshly turned earth as if she thought it might be a lovely new litter tray.
We talked about getting a new kitten, and so, a few days ago, we went over to our neighbour's house to look at her latest rescue cats. The kittens were gorgeous, as kittens always are: fuzzy and energetic with very round eyes and very little pointy tails. We liked them all, but as I held them none of them seemed like ours. Then we went round to the cat chalet at the back of the house and met a brother and sister, both black, both very sleek and beautiful, eight months old. The boy was very friendly and loved strokes, but the girl cringed when anyone put their hand near her head, and lay quiet and nervous in Sparkler's arms. And when we came home to decide which kitten to go for, we all ended up saying something along the lines of, "The kittens are so cute, but that brother and sister..."
And ten minutes later the girls and I ran across the road to tell our neighbour that, please, we'd have the brother and sister.
They're being neutered this Friday, after which they can come home straight away. So expect sleek black beautiful pictures...and the grand announcement of the names we've been debating for the last two days!
At church for the Easter service today, Gloworm suddenly rubbed her cheek against her teenage sister's. Asked what she was doing, she said, "Putting makeup on."
Sparkler, I'm glad to say, reacted with a lot more tolerance than I would have, if the Model Auntie (my little sister) had done that to me when I was thirteen.
