Tales From Pixie Wood

You Stop, For Just A Moment, And It Hits You

I discovered this week how pain makes me terribly weepy. LBH comes home slightly early from work and brings a box of Thai food for two with him, I burst into tears at the emotion of it all. I sit on the sofa with the fire going and my hip throbbing away and Boo comes meowing down the stairs with a sock in her mouth and presents it to me on the living room rug as a kill. I sob into her fur how much I love her and how there will never be anybody who loves her as much as I. LBH clears out the kitchen cupboards while I direct operations from a seat in the kitchen and then he vacuum's the house, goes out and picks up the Christmas booze stash and waters the two trees and again I can feel my eyeballs welling up.

I have decided that I am not going to dismiss this soppy time as simply something that will pass when the pain of my dislocated hip does. I am going to remember EXACTLY what it was that made me feel these indescribable moments of tenderness.

They are as follows.........LBH, food, kindness, time, warmth, help, Christmas and love.......

 

....and that face. I lifted myself off the sofa and onto the floor for a much needed change of position and she joined me. Thank you camera for being plugged into the laptop and by my side, and thank you Boo for ........um........well.....your 'Boo-ness'  There's no other cat breath I'd wish to envelope me as I grasp for respite on the living room floor. No really, I jest not, I loved it........truly.

;-)

I Will Try To Fix You

My little one finally grew up. LBH and I had been wondering when she might come into season and sure enough when she did she did it in style. This is as good as any picture I could have taken of her. She would wriggle and squiggle and moan and meow and look generally frustrated, as I'm sure you can imagine.

Since moving to the new house we have had to keep the back door closed on an almost daily basis due to the inordinate amount of randy tom cats that managed to sneak into my kitchen in search of the calling madam.

Well, we had thought about possibly having one litter with her but the breeder we got her from was simply too busy to help us out and the lineage is rather delicate so we decided to get her 'done'. If only to enable us to have a full nights sleep again.

It was harder than I thought, for me you understand, Boo has done nothing but look rather moody occasionally and purr a whole bunch!

I was told by the nurse at the vet's as I picked her up that as she is rather timid she probably won't go near her stitches but she'll give me a 'lampshade' collar just in case. YEAH RIGHT!!!!

The small furry one has become a past master at whipping round to the side of her body and having a quick tug on them at the speed of light. So needless to say the collar stays on for much of the day.

She has the pre-requisite patch in her fur where the operation took place and she should only have to wear the collar until this coming Saturday.

I simply can't wait until she is back to being able to run up and down the stairs and play with her boyfriend (the name we have given a toy that she continually drags around the house in her mouth). It's hard to watch something in my care having to heal itself and not be able to offer anything but safety.

To those that have children and have allowed them to do ANYTHING on their own before the age of thirty, I salute you. I have a feeling that the only images of my babies that you'll ever see will be blocked out by the enormous amounts of cotton wool that surround them.

I jest........I think........no I do, I promise..........I think.

Love Cherry x

PS
If you listen really carefully you may be able to hear them............

Deep & Meaningful

 

The best bit about moving house (I'm staying positive, can you tell?) is that the home you are about to leave gets the deep clean of it's life!

LBH and I have thrown, chucked, recycled, put back in the cupboard only to throw again a few days later, torn up, rolled up, packed up and sealed up and have both been very proud of the amount of  "stuff" we have managed to sacrifice in the name of a new start.

Another thing I am liking about moving house (see? still positive, still positive)  is that you simply HAVE to do all of the jobs that you have been putting off. All of  the sneaky, grimy, nobodycanseethatifiputsomethingonit jobs.

Today I did the taps. I love doing the taps and the taps were looking baaaaaddddd (top photograph). I took such care to get every little piece of crap & limescale off of the ends of the taps and from within the cracks of the taps. I used a toothbrush, a nail brush, a paint brush, some kitchen paper and finally some cotton wool for the shine............. er.......oh alright, and I promise that once we have moved I will endeavour to get out more and get a life!

Boo is insisting on it. So much so that she sat in the sink in order to stop any more buffing with cotton wool.

Cats! What can you do with em?!?!?!?!

Love Cherry xx

*edit* - I just noticed that if you enlarge the picture you can clearly see that I did not get around to doing the little bit that attaches the plug to the sink.

Blame Boo. I gave it my best shot!

What Can You Do?

I hesitated before posting the pictures this morning....but then I figured that you had all seen un-ironed white bed linen before and if you hadn't now was your chance. You see, dear reader, I find myself in an impossible situation. A situation I fear I can't change.

It seems that Boo has finally become the head of the house. As the pictures below illustrate Boo is now in complete control. She has moved further into my side of the bed, so I now find myself lying as straight and as thin as a noodle in-between her and LBH so as not to wake either. She gives me 'the look' if the light goes on a little too early in the morning and God forbid I should uncover her.

I'm writing this in secret lest she should jump up on to my keyboard and catch me. Then I'd be in deep doo-doo. I shall take this weekend to think carefully about my position in the house now (last) and ponder how it was that I came to be usurped by a rather small ball of fluff with a moany kitten-like meow.

I'll leave you now with pictorial evidence of my situation and can only hope that you find it in your hearts to send me loving support, kind thoughts and perhaps even a prayer or two.

Oh no, I have to rush along! Boo's hand caught Scottish Salmon has finished steaming and I have to break it up in to 1 inch square pieces before she'll even look at it!

;-)

 

 

   

NB: A lady called Jan emailed me from the States with a lovely message. Jan I have tried to reply but your email keeps bouncing back. Thank you so much for taking the time to write.