Hickory Dickory Dock ...

The mouse ran into the fireplace! Yet again more cat-astrophes (see what I did there??). I thought the KC waiting under the bird box was bad enough – no no no today she graduated from birds to mammals. There I was in the kitchen, after having checked an 8 country debrief before breakfast, (oh yes all very high powered in the faux countryside) artfully arranging my freshly cut roses into a bouquet to give to a friend who has everything (including a stunning mega bucks house & a brand new baby) when I heard this terrible squealing. Suddenly the KC came haring past me & went straight upstairs ignoring my yelling to “drop that thing now!” Following her into our bedroom (it had to be didn’t it – we have the white Sheridan bedding) she dropped the mouse (for that was what was squealing) behind the door. Here it cowered for a while. Grabbing my trusty “KC Victim Rescue System”™ (which is not simply an ice cream tub with holes in the lid thank you) I tried to persuade Mr Mouse to enter of his own free will. Whereupon the KC swatted him (she was no help) and so he ran straight into the gas fire fireplace. The hardest most obscure place to hide! After 5 minutes of futile “pawing” the lightweight KC gave up & went out! So there we were, me, a mouse & firstly a Hoover (thought I’d suck him out but nope, suction of a Henry on full power not strong enough), then a chopstick (to poke him out but he kept jumping over it) then I rang hubby who suggested turning the fire on to either sweat him out or – well - burn him out (NO!!) & so after virtually dismantling the fireplace I thought a bit harder & eureka! I got a metal tape measure & some silicone tongs. I poked the tapes metal end inside the fireplace to annoy him & then grabbed the tail that poked out as he turned to get away from the tape & of course his instinct was to turn & bite whatever had grabbed him so I had good purchase & I finally managed to get him into the “KC Victim Rescue System”™. I then legged it downstairs. The KC meanwhile had heard the squeaking (do you know how loud a mouse can squeak??) and so followed me – but I foxed her, she went back garden & I went front garden & over the road, Neighbour now has latest rescue! Although all neighbours that side have cats so how long he’ll last I don’t know but it’s not on my hands anymore! It’s a hard life being soft when you own a killer cat ....

Cheat!

Oh the KC is a naughty girl sometimes. Despite being terrified of these very high winds & so refusing to venture out much (she has spent most the past few days conked out on a bed or at the top of a wardrobe, snuggled on my ancient but still loved Prada Angora sweater... which am sure has been chewed & pawed as she “gets comfy”), no, when she does decide she’s brave enough to take on the force 9 in the garden she heads straight to one place – a strategic spot underneath our solitary bird box where a family of blue tits are nesting. There she sits patiently waiting for the chicks to fledge. As when they do ... wobble wobble plop ... they fall straight into her open waiting jaws!! Cheating or what?! Don’t be too horrified I am not being callous; I know she does this as she then runs straight to me with this tiny terrified thing held firm but unharmed in her mouth, beside herself with pride. We then play “give the tiny baby bird to mummy you monster” which I always win & I carefully pop the lucky chick back in its box. For the whole thing to happen all over again! The only way to distract her is with prawns.... or some other form of delicious treat. It’s now occurred to me that I have created exactly what I wanted to avoid ... her determination to get a chick as she has developed a Pavlovian response – get chick, get treat. Oops.

All Change!

Have decided that as we are fast approaching summer a new fresh 'summery' look for the blog would be nice. Whilst the previous one was very sophisticated it was also quite dark; I think the pink candy stripe is far more Doris Day, kitsch, fun & jolly! And you don't get much jollier (or kitsch) than our very own Miss Day - see pic smelling a rose - wearing white gloves!! I really was born too late, I'd've killed to be in any of Doris' "sex comedies" (as they were called - honest! No sex at all anywhere near any of them, but as she got married at the end of each of them I guess it was implied??) The clothes were so amazing. In Pillow Talk she plays an interior designer whose hats honestly actually match her frocks. She goes out to dinner in a dress Pippa Middleton would've happily worn as chief royal bridesmaid .... Except I'm sure none of the outfits would thank you for shoving them in the washing machine and eating chocolate or drinking red wine in a tight white frock wouldn't be smart. Guess I should be grateful for my fauxsurrey uniform of jeans & a sweatshirt...

First past the post

Hello from the Golden First Lounge in Kuala Lumpur. Despite my insisting that I would take on this current project at 4/5 of my normal day rate as I WON'T be travelling - oops here I am in South East Asia - how did that happen?? And last week I was in Germany ... anyway balls got dropped as is the way with big complex international projects & so I stepped in & sort of volunteered to head here - looking at flights, as I had less than 2 weeks to organise it, it transpired that flying on Malaysian Airlines was (a) sensible as it was direct and (b) fabulous as all classes except First were booked out! I had the truly surreal experience of flying out here as the only passenger in First - so my bed was set up in a different seat to the one I was watching a movie in & another seat was set up for dinner!!! The champagne was Dom Perignion (OK you can't have everything!) the amenities pack was full of La Prairie (thank you very much) and my duvet was silk. Spoiled? I should think so. As I worked out that I will be in the air for 26 hours & on the ground working for 48 I have zero guilt. Adios, am about to go get pampered again.

Cat-Astrophe?

Why oh why oh why ... yes cue rant. Why do I foolishly expect any kind of decent service in country hotels that charge less than £300 a night??! What foolish world am I inhabiting where paying £90 a night gets you a clean bathroom?? We have just returned from a delightful (room the exception) jaunt up north where I hit the outlet shops with a vengeance & replenished my summer wardrobe top to toe, Jaeger, Hobbs, NYDJ etc all at 50% off – yippee!! But un-yippee for the hotel. The website was most alluring – all our suites have been recently refurbished it trilled showing Lawrence Llewellyn type make over’s, a glimpse of velvet curtains, mood lighting & a hint of burr walnut. Oo-eer we thought – this looks alright! The honeymoon suite (it continued) was “lavishly furnished ... a neutral decor ... high specification furniture, leather sofa, flat screen TV and even a Jacuzzi bath”. Well – there we were. And a Royal Wedding deal to boot so B&B was – well around £90 a night. So not unreasonable for us to expect a bit of a fab room. Except – oh dear. I’m sure you can guess.
The carpet was grubby, the high spec furniture was an afterthought & the huge TV was in an odd piece of furniture that had necessitated the skirting being cut – but not finished in any way. And all the wires were in a white plastic tube that had been painted to look like wood... class. The light fittings all had at least 1 dead bulb in them so the light was wonky. There was no wardrobe as such just hangers behind the bizarre piece of furniture the bed was slotted into – oh and a porthole window with no curtain so the sun streamed though at 5am. A lie in? Dream on! But all of that was Dorchester class compared to the bathroom. Only one dim light worked. The “gold” shower fitting had lime scale on lime scale and was crusty. The shower screen had long since been broken but instead of replacing it, they left the empty mechanism in situ & had hung a fungus ridden curtain inside the metal rails... I had bruises on my elbows trying to manoeuvre in it – and gave up eventually. The Jacuzzi bath had ½” of dust on it (as I found out when I stupidly touched it) – it went on. But typically we went up to “complain” and the lady behind the desk was a delight and was with her 5 month old ginger kitten called Skittles who wanted to play with us .... Complain? Sorry cute kitty cat rubbing my ankles & purring, complain about what?? Oh you are so sweet! No, all is fine now you’re here, come here for a cuddle!