Monday, 14 February 2011

Mick Jagger MY Mick Jagger 1995-2011




dear darling Micky died today 14th February 2011. He had gone into the bathroom overnight and lay on the rug in there; he drank some water and tried to eat a little breakfast but he was so light, so very light, so much weight lost over the past few days. He went out one morning last week, as usual, right after breakfast, to the front yard. Within minutes he was back, most unusual as he generally made his way around to the cat flap. He was different somehow, his tail stuck out and he was walking stiffly. I could find no blood, no bits of him that made him wince when touched. I don't know if a fox grabbed him, one of the neighbour cats (although Mick was friendly with everything in a laid back unostentatious way), or he was clipped by a car. But he became more and more quiet over the past few days. And died whilst I was at work today. He had had a special hug and a whispered Goodbye this morning.

Memories:

Micky as a kitten. I thought he was a girl and called him Kitty. He came from Pitchford village, my only cat who's not a foundling. Sammy had been an only cat for a year. Sammy and I were canoodling on the bed when Sam's eyes opened wide as he gazed over my shoulder. Baby Micky had been sleeping under the pillow and crept out to see what we were doing. I felt so .... dirty

Mick would leave home for two or three days as a teenager. I know where he went. To the house on the hairpin bend of Cunnery Road where he would socialise with Mrs Justin-Evans, who wore perfume. He'd drift home in his own time, looking well fed and smelling of perfume. Sometimes he would chirrup at me as I passed that house on the way home from the pub at night, and then escort me home the long way (up the road rather than via the field!)

Micky loved to go for walks in company; he trained me and Sammy to go with him round the Rectory Wood on summer evenings. There was a certain route we had to follow (and along this route his ashes will shortly be scattered); he and Sam would race toward certain trees and see who could claw their way furthest up the tree. On the way home they would scamper down the Rectory Field, zigzagging in and out of the bracken. It was Fun, for them as well as me.

His most recent long walk was with me and Daphne a couple of years ago. we set off for a walk around the wood; I looked back toward the gate and there was Mick, wondering if it was too late to join us. He calmly accompanied us all the way, including greeting dogs and their owners without fear.

More recently he spent each evening on my lap impeding my typing on the pc - or he would curl up alongside the pc thus managing to impede any use of the mouse. I always thought he had no sense of humour - but who knows.

Mick Jagger - my cat. Fearless and devoted; cuddly and purry; swaggering and strutting. Sixteen years of tolerant and cosy companionship. I miss you. x

Monday, 28 June 2010

What I did on my holidays - part I


yesterday Ian and I took the Shuttle Bus to the top of the Long Mynd - we get it free, being oldies; but then, so do most people that use it. We got off at the Stiperstones (actual, not pub) and had a wander up there nearly to the devil's chair, then turned and walked back the way the bus had come, toward Bridges and the Horseshoes Inn.
As we walked across the moorland at the top, a kite took off from a small tree about 10 yards ahead of us, flew low over us and circled, then flew back toward the Stiperstones. It was certainly the closest I've been to a kite, Ian too I think!
Because it was so hot, I didn't want to wear my MBTs to walk, them being a bit wintry and me wearing a white linen skirt ... so I wore a pair of plimsolls. Plimsolls are not recommended for walking 3 miles in 80 degree heat on rocky paths! Oh my feet and knees did ache! It's worn off now though (next day) and I've just been for an amble around the Secret Hills centre at Craven Arms. There were some fab turquoise dragonflies over a pool there, some of them "joined" to drab little brown dragonflies. I dunno if the bright ones are the women or the men. I suppose I could look it up. I'm back. If it was a common blue damselfly, then the women are the dull brown/green ones. Either that or they were all carrying bits of dry stick on their backs.
Also today I had the horrible thought that the old wall cupboard I've set my heart on for the kitchen might not fit through the door. I'd measured it yesterday in the antiques centre though without a tape measure. It measured across: elbow to fingertip x 3. It measured in depth: elbow to fingertip divided by 2. I didn't bother measuring height as the kitchen ceiling is really high. So today I measured the height of my door frame. 196 cm max. Then I went, with a tape measure, and measured the height of the cupboard. 200 cm. I WAS SO DEJECTED. This cupboard was going to solve all my storage problems when I have my kitchen remodelled. I don't want lots of kitcheny things in there.
As I walked away my brain suddenly kicked into gear. They lay these things on their sides don't they, to get them through doorways. I tell you, it's a good job the human race doesn't depend on my brain.

Sunday, 30 May 2010

Chester, and on the way to Chester

I went toChester yesterday. Silly really on a Bank Holiday, it was s-l-o-w. I needed petrol and the loo so stopped at a service station. A Shell service station. The girl serving me was called Shell! (Michelle, she assured me). But it was like fate. She said when she was little she thought it was her petrol station.

There was a queue for the one toilet (handwashing facilities in the same room as the toilet, it always slows things down); two women and a man were taking turns and talking in a foreign language to each other. Finally just me and the man left. I thought I'd make an effort and said, in my clearest voice: "Where . Are. You. From? Poland?" He said "Sorry?", so I repeated myself, more clearly.

He looked me straight in the eye. "Wales", he said.

Ooops.

Friday, 14 May 2010

Life's disappointments

Life has dealt me a few disappointments. The earliest I can remember is my conviction that once I learned to read I could finish school and teach myself everything. Or everything I wanted to know.

So I was six when I had my first big disappointment.

There were others in the next few years, I'm sure.

Then I tasted, at a Chinese restaurant in Coventry in the very early 1960s, peppers, bamboo shoots and beansprouts. When I say "tasted" I mean they were in my bowl and I ate them. THEY HAVE NO TASTE!!!! How disappointing that was I can never explain. I was so excited to have bumped into my grandparents in the city centre, and to accept their offer of a trip to the newly opened Chinese restaurant. I know they decided to choose things that weren't too spicy for me .... and I definitely kept my disappointment from them.

We won't discuss here the disappointment of Rome turning out to be a scruffy chilly city or Cairo being probably the filthiest and smelliest place I've been to in my life ......

Saturday, 8 May 2010

Knitting

I do love knitting (preferably for me). I just finished a hat in untreated sheep wool, dark brown, it smells of lanolin, it's fabulous. Probably will make a pair of matching mittens. That should encourage me to go out and WALK even in winter; trouble is, I'd rather stay in and knit :o)

Right now I have a fat blob in front of me, it's the torso of an Itty Bitty Baby Doll for someone's baby girl (we only have baby boys in our family). I shall begin the head soon but as it is just about a repeat of the body I need to take a breather.

I wonder how Daphne's getting on in China - is she wearing the socks I made for her?

Resolution: will try to update this blog every few days. Honest.

a random thought or two ...

Why is the person at the front of the queue never prepared for the lights to go green?

Should people with the job of accosting strangers in shops to sell services be advised to use a mouthwash hourly? (honestly, I was approached today and almost gagged!)

Where is the sun? I shall have to start using my SAD lamp soon, at the moment I'm using Rescue Remedy as if it's going out of fashion.

How can something as divine as a big bag of chilli peanuts make me fat?

Tuesday, 16 February 2010

ooooh I'm back in!


here I am, I just found this on the Ravelry website, how did they know it was my old bog I wonder. Blog, I mean. Speaking of bogs though, NO MORE RATS IN THE TOILET! I've had the whole bathroom remodelled and it is now a shower room. Gosh, two years since I wrote to my imaginary friends, so much (and yet so little) has happened.


There've been births (Theo, Owen (aka Fraggle) ), deaths (Neville, Daphne's mum), weddings (Nick and Pip, Hurpreet and Gurpreet) and parties (Penny's 40th birthday, Penny's housewarming that was almost a houseburningdown, Dot's 80th and manymany more).


My broken ankle (right) is now fine for walking but still a very odd shape, so odd that it makes the left ankle (broken in 1976) look quite shapely by comparison. And from nowhere has come WEIGHT. I am now gigantic, weighing over 12 st. I'm not saying how much over, but over. Under 13 though. I have rejoined Slimming World and paid up front (front! don't talk to me about fronts, I can no longer sleep comfortably face down because two giant turnips get in the way) to encourage me to take it seriously. I will confess, as no-one but me will ever see this, that each thigh now measures more than my waist used to measure!


I'll see if I can remember how to add a picture, it will be one from Dot's 80th in Coventry the other week, where I appear to be being held down by Dot and her cousin. I'm the scary one in the middle with the turnips hanging out. Deary me.