Scaredy Cat

The KC really is a wuss. She has been hiding in quiet corners of the garden for the past 3 days (frequently searching for dry spots!), as the builders have come in & out. Lovely as these blokes are all the KC sees are strangers. And boy does she hate strangers! When the decorator was here recently, the first day or 2 she wouldn’t go near him – then she got used to him & realised he was not a danger & was fine. However as we have had a parade of builders, electricians, plumbers & now plasterers, she hasn’t had a chance to get used to anyone & so at about 10.30AM daily (her snooze time) she starts to pace the patio & make that pathetic high pitched meee – eeewww noise as she eyeballs the strangers preventing her easy access to her bed. This ever increasing noise then leads to me stopping doing whatever I am doing & going into the garden & picking her up & carrying her past the nasty men, (getting clawed in the process when one of them foolishly moves or makes a noise scaring the pants off her) and depositing her on the stairs from whence she legs it up to the safety & relative peace of a bed & snuggles down for a good sleep.

And after about 3 hours, a little black nose will poke through the banisters, looking for a perfect getaway moment & typically not finding one the mewing will start again & I will yet again stop what I am doing & carry her out to the garden. How right Rush Limbaugh was when he said 'Dogs have masters. Cats have only staff.'

The plagues of building…?

And I thought the worst was going to be biblical dust. Oh no. No no no.  We have had the joys of finding concrete reinforced walls with metal spikes running through where there should be a simple cavity wall, and today has been quite a different kind of plague day, today has been about the biblical flooding. There we were almost on schedule (only 3 hours ‘over’ apparently cos of the bomb proof wall) when, clearly in a moment of madness, the nice builder forgot he was in a kitchen and drilled straight through a water pipe – a high pressure water pipe. Oh it was fun. Fun fair style sprays, and of course the pipe was buried deep in the a wall. As this is the house of horrors there are 3 stopcocks so much fun was had running about trying to remember where they all where for when the emergency plumber arrived. A  couple of hours later, when all the fun died down I decided to have a bit of a clear up. And as I was mopping the kitchen floor, suddenly a strange electronic persistent tune came from the vicinity of the fridge. Cripes that’s odd I thought. After half an hour of fruitless search - the tune was waxing & waning - I questioned my sanity & called a neighbour – who put me out of my misery. The endless tune was coming from a “magic” ping pong ball stuck under the fridge. It played the little tune when the metal contacts were connected – and as it was sat in inches of water guess what happened…? So as my sanity & patience are now stretched quite a long way, hubby rushing home with fish & chips & vino. Gotta love my hubby.

The Wall of Love

Oh dear. I can’t add up. Actually that’s not totally right, I can – if I am given the right things to add. The builder should’ve started knocking down walls yesterday. Should’ve. Didn’t though. What he did do was pop ‘round to clarify the order of works & exactly what he was going to do & thank goodness he did. Appears he missed off (therefore so did I) a substantial amount (think ~£3K) which was the cost to take a fairly contentious wall down. Contentious in that we had been dithering & changing our minds & wondering if we were doing the right thing & worrying about practicalities (it was holding the house up basically & as such required a steel to be popped in) & within a calculators ping our decision had been made. That wall rocks! We “heart” that wall. How could we live without that wall? That wall is the very best wall in the house. So it stays. So now we are losing only one wall & gaining 2. It needs to be said here that the reason I am subjecting myself & the KC to these horrors is that our house appears to have been built for a Brian Rix farce – every room downstairs has 2 or 3 doorways or openings into it! So we are “consolidating” and turning 3 undefined spaces into 2 very clearly defined rooms. And it will look fab. Honest (she says watching dust sheets go down, teas being drunk & hammers & chisels coming out) Oh and I haven’t seen the KC for dust … ah yes, dust ….!

A Handful of Dust

I am about to rant. We have some new-ish lovely neighbours who have taken a bit of a wreck & are turning it into a truly lovely home. Fair enough you think. However wreck to home inevitably involves building work. And building work means lots of banging & hammering & it would seem hourly angle grinding.

Now the noise of the angle grinding I can deal with. Well certainly given the choice I would take the noise of the angle grinder over the unbelievable quantities of dust created. All day, virtually every, day the whirr of the angle grinder starts followed by biblical proportions of dust.

Very thick, very orange dust. Floating, as I type, in thick opaque clouds across my field of vision. It’s like fog. Unbelievable. I am at a loss for words as I cannot believe my neighbours (who in reality are actually very lovely & generally very conscious of the disturbance they are causing) have no idea of the sheer volume of vile dust they are creating but more importantly sharing! Are they really that totally unaware? Why oh why can’t they just wet the brick? Or spray some water as they are angle grinding? Does it honestly require a PhD in common sense to do that? Does it??

I despair that my garden and my freshly painted bedrooms are all now coated in a fine layer of bloody orange brick DUST!  I foolishly had the odd window open as it’s a warm day. My garden umbrella is no longer green it is DUST coloured.The KC used to be black & white. She’s now DUST coloured.

The noise? Bah who cares, turn the radio up, wear earplugs .... but mouthfuls, clouds, plague proportions of dust ... thank goodness I have no washing out or it would be ... guess what? Yes, DUST coloured. Cough, cough, sorry, very dry throat, could there be DUST in the air??

AC = DC!

Aircon = damn cool. This unseasonably muggy weather has made us FauxSurrey types grateful for a rash purchase about 5 years ago – a portable aircon unit! Having lived in Asia many moons ago I remembered the cool dry bliss afforded by having the wall mounted unit on high for an hour or so before I went to bed & so when in 2005 (I think) the mercury charged up the thermometer & we were living in what could best be described as a small wooden box right on an A road (i.e. opening windows not possible unless you thrived on thundering lorry noises & sought death by carbon monoxide), grabbing a type 1 floor standing portable aircon unit from Wickes seemed smart.

And in reality it is smart. Whilst the noise it makes can be compared to a thundering lorry itself at times, we can set it to 18 degrees (yes! A cold 18 – lovely) whilst we sweat gently downstairs in front of open French windows seeking any suggestion of a breeze and then snuggle down under the duvet as -ooh, it’s nice & chilled! In theory it works well as we shove the outlet pipe up our chimney (of course we have a fireplace in the bedroom!) so in theory with all windows shut we have a sealed room. Yes in theory. Let’s not forget we are slaves to a cunning black ball of ‘cuddle-me-at night’ fur who, when she feels the need, gently pushes the bedroom door open and after requisite cuddle jumps down to lie in the gap of the now quite open door enjoying cool air on her face & warm air on her tail ....

3 sugars?

I am currently experiencing the joys of decorators. Which means I am making constant cups of tea (with at least 3 sugars) dealing with complete & utter dereliction upstairs (it WILL look good when it’s done!) and managing the KC who is on the verge of a nervous breakdown as all her favourite places to sit / sleep are either covered in debris or covered in decorators cloth. She has now decided the only place that she can get peace is 6 foot up in a high tiny cupboard in one of the spare bedrooms & so she climbs up me & onto my shoulders to get there! It wouldn’t be so bad however if they actually turned up on time. Oh yes we’ll be there at 9 they trill as they leave at 5. It’s now ten past ten & I’m home alone (well the KC is in the cupboard) twiddling my thumbs wondering what I can achieve whilst waiting & where on earth they are. Telephone call duly made – I’m 2 minutes away – says the voice. He’s here now with great excuses & a bucket, but has to go out almost immediately he's got here to get the paint ... I do think if I approached my work like that how long would I last??! Still at least I'm paying a job not an hourly rate!!

Tick ... tick ... ugh!

I noticed during a lovely cuddle session a couple of days ago that the KC had an unusual lump near her mouth. Hmm I thought, that's odd. Alerted hubby. He took a look (NB of course neither of us are vets or even vaguely medically qualified but both are good at hypochondria). Hubby's declaration? Likely a skin tag. But who knows, could be something less benign ... Checked with another cat friendly friend -- hmm could be, but may be worth checking out at vet. So out came cat carrier in anticipation of vet visit (and off went the KC -she's not daft) and then super cat aware friend / neighbour popped over for tea. Take a look I said - could be something dreadful... Sensible & very cat aware neighbour took one look & laughed - it's a tick! And off she went to get her tick removal equipment (she has 2 cats & is super adept at this tick removal lark) & 3 minutes (and one grumpy KC) later all was done! Have never ever had a cat with ticks before. Never even seen one! The dangers of the faux countryside huh? (NB toy tick as image as real one - well - honestly - gross!!)

Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head...

.. and on my shoulders & my feet & the KC's ears and on the garden & in fact on everything today. And it has been impressively accompanied by rolls of thunder & flashes of lightning. So why is it that as I am being virtually drowned from above all I hear on the radio is news of droughts ... well OK I know why - the fact we've had almost no rain this year and the reservoirs & rivers are dangerously low (have brain .. doh!) but it's the sheer mad dissonance between what I am hearing & what I am seeing that makes me think ... uhhh??

Happy Birthday Prince Philip!

Now I wouldn't describe myself as a royalist as such but I do have a soft spot for Phil The Greek who has just turned 90. His amazing capacity for massively un pc (but often saying what we're all thinking) gaffes is unique! He is being much quoted at the moment in honour of said 90th and 2 of my favourites are here for your amusement:

"If you travel as much as we do, you appreciate the improvements in aircraft design of less noise and more comfort, provided you don’t travel in something called economy class, which sounds ghastly." To the Aircraft Research Association in 2002. (Ooh I can empathise totally with that one!)

To a new MP in the House of Commons (I am now paraphrasing) "What did you do before you got this job?" (MP) "I was in a trade union" (Phil) "Ah, bugger all then!" (MP, in a vain attempt to get back at Phil) "Oh, and what did you do before you got your job?!" (Phil) "Fought in the second world war" Touché!

Singin' in the Rain

I do have the most spectacular view from my desk. An early start this morning as tomorrow I will leave the joyful confines of my fauxsurrey office & get on a train & go to a real office all day (eek!) and so have to get some work done in preparation. But for now, if I raise my head from my keyboard I get to gaze at poppies & peonies, daisies and dahlias & vines, jasmine & honeysuckle. And this morning – this very wet indeed morning - aside from the floral cornucopia, I glimpsed a very loud (in every way!) feathered visitor to the bird feeder – a vibrant green Parakeet. Shrieking as it landed to let all know of its arrival (although as it’s hosing down right now the KC, conked out on cashmere, didn’t even flick an ear) it settled on the feeder & was a delightful tropical flash of psychedelic colour on a very grey morning. Gorgeous!

Enough is enough

I don't often repeat uber-schmaltzy things - you know those emails you get that go on about how "I wish I'd let the kids run riot & paint the house psychedelic yellow before I died too young" type thing (sorry, but you know what I mean!) but I got something today I saw as more thought provoking than schmaltzy so here it is - something thought provoking for a Wednesday

"Recently I overheard a father and daughter in their last moments together at the airport. They had announced the departure. Standing near the security gate, they hugged and the father said, 'I love you, and I wish you enough.' The daughter replied, 'Dad, our life together has been more than enough. Your love is all I ever needed. I wish you enough, too, Dad.' They kissed and the daughter left. The Father walked over to the window where I was seated. Standing there I could see he wanted and needed to cry. I tried not to intrude on his privacy, but he welcomed me in by asking, 'Did you ever say good-bye to someone knowing it would be forever?'
'Yes, I have,' I replied. 'Forgive me for asking, but why is this a forever good-bye?'... 'I am old, and she lives so far away. I have challenges ahead and the reality is - the next trip back will be for my funeral,' he said.
When you were saying good-bye, I heard you say, 'I wish you enough.' May I ask what that means?' He began to smile. 'That's a wish that has been handed down from other generations. My parents used to say it to everyone...' He paused a moment and looked up as if trying to remember it in detail, and he smiled even more. 'When we said, 'I wish you enough,' we wanted the other person to have a life filled with just enough good things to sustain them.' Then turning toward me, he shared the following as if he were reciting it from memory.

I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright no matter how grey the day may appear.
I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun even more.
I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive and everlasting.
I wish you enough pain so that even the smallest of joys in life may appear bigger.
I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.
I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.
I wish you enough hellos to get you through the final good-bye.

He then walked away"

They say it takes a minute to find a special person, an hour to appreciate them, a day to love them; but then an entire life to forget them. To all my friends and loved ones, I WISH YOU ENOUGH.