Robin prepares for a bath

Robert Popper’s alter ego Robin Cooper describes how he prepares to take a bath . . .

listen to ‘Robin prepares for a bath’ on Audioboo

The Entropy Gang’s August blog (formerly Conservatory Cats’ Chats)

It's a bit of a squeeze but we can still all get in the top basket together. 

Herschel: We had hoped to tell you about our adventures in the GARDEN but the Servants haven’t erected the fence yet.

Isambard: They keep talking about it but nothing seems to happen . . .

Jellicoe: This morning The THINKER said he needed to cut back some of the plants but he doesn’t want to do it while they’re flowering.

Herschel: The MAID agreed.

Isambard: . . . and then it will be too cold or too wet.

Jellicoe: We don’t really mind. We know they’ll get around to it sooner or later.

Herschel: My guess is later – much later.

Isambard: To be fair, they have got their hands full with all the DOGS. I 

must say it’s rather nice being amongst so many of them.

Jellicoe: Yes, there are twice as many as usual, well, nearly. They seem to like us cleaning their ears and noses and they’re very good about not disturbing us when we’ve taken their beds.

This is me, Herschel, with Bertie. I think Bertie might be my favourite dog.

Herschel: Jellicoe and I thought Isambard would be scared when the other DOGS arrived for their holiday . . . he is a bit of a scaredy-cat . . . He even hid from Bethan when she came to see The THINKER when The MAID was looking after Frankie and he knows her.

Isambard: I am not! I’m just cautious. We cats have only got nine lives, you know.

Jellicoe: Well, that’s eight more than everyone else.

 This is probably my favourite place to relax but I do like sitting in The THINKER'S chair as well. He's my personal Servant.

I like the lower basket - I can see who's coming into the sitting room.

Herschel: We need nine lives because we’re so inquisitive. You know there’s a saying, ‘Curiosity killed the cat’ – I hope I never meet Curiosity.

Isambard: Yesterday a stinging buzzy thing flew into the sitting room . . . what’s it called, Jellicoe? I heard the Servants say but I’ve forgotten.

Jellicoe: It was a wasp. The MAID was really impressed because we knew we mustn’t eat it.

Herschel: That’s because the Cat That Went Before, the one they called Winston, didn’t know and The MAID had to pull a sting out of his chin. We all had a really good look at the wasp but we didn’t bat it and eventually it flew away.

Isambard: Do you think The MAID has been trying to eat wasps? She got stung the other day and her arm went all red and blotchy.

Jellicoe: . . . and she kept scratching and saying, ‘Ooh, I mustn’t scratch it, ooh, uhfffff, ooh.’

Herschel: The THINKER was bitten today and The MAID said, ‘Don’t scratch it.’

 Isambard: She’s a fine one to talk. ‘Do as I say, not do as I do.’

Jellicoe: The THINKER says she’s a typical teacher.

Herschel: I don’t think she likes it when he says that.

Isambard: He’s only joking – that’s what he says, anyway.

Jellicoe: We haven’t got any further with our door-opening. That’s because we don’t have to try to get into the BEDROOM now.

Herschel: No, we go to bed with the Servants and the DOGS. It’s splendid and sometimes one of us stays up there after the Servants and the DOGS have got up in the morning and gone downstairs.

Isambard: I stayed on the bed today – it was lovely to have all that space to myself.

Jellicoe: But it’s nice to go down with them and help them open up the house.

Herschel: It’s even better when they all go out for a walk and we have the house to ourselves.

Isambard: It was raining when they went out yesterday. The MAID was drenched when they got back. She looked very funny with her hair stuck to her head.

Jellicoe:  The DOGS were really wet, too, but they always are because they do a lot of swimming.

Herschel: We all like water though we haven’t tried swimming, whatever that is.

Isambard: We watch it pouring down the drain or coming out of the hose when The MAID washes the patio.

Jellicoe: We like the bath and the shower and the lavatories.

Herschel: I think I prefer our litter trays to their lavatories. I’d be worried about falling in.

Isambard: We wouldn’t fall in – we’re too clever.

Jellicoe: Of course we are. Everyone knows that cats are very clever – resourceful, too. We’ve made a few changes to our Palace. We pulled down the curtain in the sitting room. It was nice to climb up it but it restricted our view of the GARDEN and we can reach the top of the grandfather clock quite easily without it.

Herschel: We’ve done a bit of decorating as well. It wasn’t intentional but we discovered that splatting little insects – flies and moths, that sort of thing – leaves a nice little reddish-brown mark. It might not be quite what the Servants had in mind but it’s a change.

Isambard: It’s slow work. It will take a very long time to decorate the whole house.

Jellicoe: We’ll let the Servants take over soon. We’ve made a start – they can do the rest. Now, it’s warm here, the cricket is on in the background and we’re feeling very r-e-l-a-x-e-d . . . See you soon.

Fun in the Forest

'Let me help you'

Buster doesn't need any help but Bertie is quite possessive over his AquaKong.

Sometimes Buster helps his brother Bertie!

An old(er) lady flanked by two young chaps.

Tia is accompanied by Bertie and Buster

Flotilla.

All eyes on the Kong . . . well, most of them. Frodo is not a retriever, except of biscuits.

Dear deer!

Up periscope . . . 

. . . when the signal is stationary we are informed that Jenna has 'treed a quarry'. . .

. . . as if!!

A cooling dip for Frodo . . .

. . . and a gentle swim for Foxy, always hoping for (but not receiving) biscuits.

Kersplash!

Can you see me? I can see you!

Tug of war . . . Bertie always wins.

At one of the 'new' ponds.

Left to right: Frodo, Bertie, Buster, Tia, Janice, Foxy, Jenna, Gus

Buster sits and waits for the Kong to be thrown.

The Nineteenth Blog of Augustus Lazarus Cooke (Gus)

Hello everyone!

It has been ages since I blogged. I told you last time that we had all gone to stay with Tia and Foxy and Buster for a day and how our people went out and left us with Dean. Well, we went to spend another day with them and this time we stayed with Kiri while everyone else went out and again everyone was happier when ‘it’ was over.* Kiri had two babies to look after ‘cos Susannah had taken Frankie down the night before ‘it’ but she was quite happy to stay at home and Frodo behaved himself – he knows Kiri very well. We got home very late that night and the kittens were pleased to see us.

The kittens are really big now – well, that’s what the Humans say. Course, they’re never going to be as big as us dogs. Just as well, I think, when I look at their sharp teeth and claws.

Mr H went off the other day to spend some time with some men he knew years and years ago. They all passed out together, he said – strange, I thought, but Mrs H explained that meant they were all remissioned on the same day (editor’s note: they were commissioned . . . )

Then, just after that Mrs H went to stay with Susannah and Frankie. 

She was looking after Frankie while Susannah went to work. Mr H had to learn how to work the washing machine and he even hung the washing out on the line. It was funny watching him – he puts the clothes out differently to Mrs H, not nearly as neat and tidy.

Now Tia and Foxy and Buster have come to stay for their summer holiday. It’s fun going for walks all together. T, F and B really enjoy the ponds in the forest – there’s not much water where they live. Yesterday we went out for ages. Buster is funny. He sits in the pond with the water up to his collar waiting for Mrs H to throw the Kong. He’s just as much of a cheat as Jenna and Bertie gets quite upset so Mrs H tricks Buster and pretends to throw the Kong in one direction but changes it at the last second. She has to do the same with Jenna so that I get a chance to retrieve the ball. Tia’s a good girl – she watches like I do and then races off. Foxy doesn’t bother. She likes retrieving biscuits but Mr and Mrs H aren’t doing that with her ‘cos she’s rather rounder than she should be and it’s not good for her joints.

It’s quite warm today so we’ll probably go to Simons Wood where there’s lots of shade but only one pond. 

It’s a big pond, more of a lake really, with ducks and geese and dabchicks and the water’s clear so we don’t come home carrying lots of mud in our coats. I hope we go soon . . . I like our walks.

Be good.

Hwyl fawr am nawr! (That’s Welsh for ‘Goodbye for now!’)

*’it’ was Trevor’s funeral. Trevor is Mr H’s brother.

Wedding Anniversary

It was our Wedding Anniversary last week (August 12^th, the Glorious Twelfth, start of the grouse shooting season – grouse is also a complaint, a grumble, a moan, a whinge – is there a message there for me??)

Anyway, it was forty-six years since we tied ourselves to each other and cemented the bond with four children (not all at once, you understand, like a litter of puppies – I fancied having twins but never quadruplets! In the end they were all singletons . . . )

We have never been hot on celebrations but when our Silver Wedding anniversary came round I arranged tickets for the ballet. Barry arranged a new outboard for the dinghy – we spent the actual day bombing between Gosport and Portsmouth to collect it!

Our Ruby anniversary came and went – we probably had a bottle of champagne. This year we celebrated with an inboard engine. Barry had gone sailing with Gillian and Callum earlier in the month but the winds were not favourable and he had had to resort to the engine which failed spectacularly and left them stranded not far from Poole. He called out Sea Start, the marine equivalent of the AA, who arrived promptly and towed them to safe harbour. The engine was irreparable so a new one had to be located and fitted and this was achieved before the next charter was due. The summer months are good for chartering and enable us to maintain the boat in good order and we didn’t want to lose any of the bookings.

I’m thinking of commissioning a miniature inboard engine in gold, platinum, emeralds and diamonds to hang from a fine chain around my neck . . . it would cost about the same as the full-scale version J

It would look rather fetching, don’t you think?

End Marmite neglect

Unloved and forgotten, thousands of Marmite jars across the UK are being neglected. This year alone, over 1 in 10 Brits admit they haven't opened their jar in over three months. Through this latest Marmite advert, we've launched an urgent appeal to prevent cruelty, alleviate suffering and promote kindness to all Marmite jars. Get involved now www.endmarmiteneglect.com

Marmite (known as Vegemite in Australia) is a strong, salty, yeasty spread for bread or toast. My particular favourite combination is  Marmite and banana on toast.

Missing link

'The link to Who is watching you?' vanished! 

In brief, photos taken with a mobile (cell) phone can be used in much the same way as GPS to track the person or persons portrayed. This is particularly worrying where children are concerned as they may be traced to their homes, schools, favourite haunts without their or their parents' knowledge and you may be sure that anyone stalking children in this way is up to no good. 

There are settings on mobile phones that will deactivate the tracking capability but, as with most technology, mischievous people can and will hack into them.

It is frightening to realise how truly vulnerable we are. We guard our keys, wallets and other personal possessions so carefully but unwittingly expose those we love to danger simply by recording them and making those photographs public.

Photos taken with ordinary cameras are not traceable.

Who is watching you?

Beware the perils of mobile phone cameras/photos. Be careful what you post for you don't know who is watching. http://kyeos.wordpress.com/2013/05/10/warning-if-you-take-photos-with-your-cell-phone/ …

Priceless!

I just came across this and wanted to share it.


Life is settling down again and I hope to be back to  more regular blogging although next week I am babysitting my youngest grandchild :-)

Bureaucracy or The Right Hand Doesn't Know What The Left Hand's Doing

My husband had occasion to seek advice from HM Revenue and Customs this morning.  He phoned the help desk and explained the problem, viz, his late mother’s estate (she died in March this year) was being handled by his brother who died suddenly on Saturday. Probate had been granted but administration of the estate had not been completed. Barry’s sister-in-law told Barry she had been informed she would have to take over probate.

The help desk told Barry that was nonsense and he, as next of kin, would be responsible and he should apply for a second grant of probate. Barry then checked with Winchester, the office that granted probate, and was told that his sister-in-law would definitely be responsible for probate, along with her deceased husband’s estate.

Barry checked with the help desk again and the man he spoke to consulted three of his senior colleagues who insisted that their advice was right. A further phone call to Winchester resulted in three managers confirming that the advice they were giving was accurate. Back to the help desk who maintained their position but advised him to get legal advice (!!) but also said that as Winchester was responsible for granting probate he’d better accept their advice as they would be dealing with it.

Everyone Barry spoke to was helpful and polite but why was there so much disagreement between them? Finally, Barry phoned the principal Registry in London and The Winchester office’s advice was confirmed as correct.    

Fortunately, Barry and his sister-in-law get on well together and there is no conflict of interest or argument about the disposal of his late mother’s estate.

Help desks should help, not confuse. There needs to be clarification in training so that all parties are giving the same advice.

                                                                                               

Slow Down!

Slow Down!

Festival of Britain, 1951

I have always spoken quickly, words tumbling out of my mouth in their rush to get away from me. Even in the classroom I was aware that I was speaking too fast and tried to moderate the speed, without success. Add to that my clipped delivery and fairly quiet voice and you may understand that most people have difficulty hearing what I’m saying. (Naturally, when I was teaching, I ensured that my voice was loud enough to be heard – sometimes very loud. I can project very well when required to do so.)

As an example, this is what my writing looks like these days before I correct it . . . I hace alwysa spoeken qycjkty, words tumblins our of my nmuth in th r rush to gwe awat form me.

Lincolnshire, 1964

Of course, it may just be my poor touch-typing but it is a fact that it is getting progressively worse. It would appear that the less I speak the more my fingers tangle in the keys and produce gobbledegook. When I stopped going out to work (I refused to say I had retired, such vanity! I was not of retirement age and did not wish to be considered OLD) I relished the prospect of not having to talk all day and now I am almost monosyllabic. (You must allow for exaggeration here!)

Now, when required to conduct some sort of social interaction I often fumble for words, desperate to respond intelligibly and not in an ELDERLY fashion and then I see myself as youngsters see me – past it, bless her. It happened the other day when I went to the hospital to have my eyes dealt with (Visual Fields, don’t you know – all those flashing lights, a patch over one eye and then the other and the buzzer in my hand. I’m sure you know the form:  ’Press the buzzer when you see the white light, keep your eye on the orange light in the centre, don’t search for the white light,’ with the result that I frantically press the buzzer, afraid I might miss one of the spots or think back and realise I have missed one. I listen to the buzzers all around me and hear the ophthalmologist explaining patiently to others what they must do and tell myself to concentrate.)

Both eyes having been tested the pleasant young woman (very young . . . how old could she be? Surely not old enough to be doing this job?) asked me, as she had asked every other person, ‘Have you any other appointments today?’ (What did she think? Was I going to have my mental acuity tested or a prosthetic limb fixed?) and that’s when my quick-wittedness came to my aid as I mumbled, ‘No,’ and she said lightly, ‘Oh, another one with no other appointments so you’re free to go now,’ which is when I compounded my elderliness by saying, ‘I’ve got another appointment on July 22^nd,’ thus proving that my memory is not quite shot yet. I wanted to stride out of the room in a parody of youthful energy but my bag strap was stuck under the chair and as I fumbled to free it she came to my aid and picked it up for me. I think she was quite surprised at the weight of it. She didn’t exactly grunt as she lifted it, but I had the impression of renewed respect.

As for stepping out smartly, that was never going to happen. For two months I had sciatica which dissipated to be replaced by pain in my hips (one or other, sometimes both), the result of walking badly because of the sciatica *sigh*. After I’ve been sitting for a while I stiffen and it takes a while to unbend and so I hobbled out, pride not quite intact, thus completing the image of a poor old dear.

Who was it said, ‘Would that we could see ourselves as others see us’?* I’d rather not, thank you. It’s enough of a shock to encounter myself in the mirror and too off-putting to realise that a young slip of a lad or lass is looking at me unable, or unwilling, to understand that one day they too will be old(er).

*I cannot let pass a quotation without checking it to make sure I have it correct. (Is this another instance of impending – or ongoing – decrepitude? Or OCD?) In this case, I didn’t . . .  have it correct, that is. I paraphrased the immortal words of Robert Burns, Rabbie to his familiars:-

O, wad some Power the giftie gie us
To see oursels as others see us!
It wad frae monie a blunder free us,
An' foolish notion. 

 Robert Burns, The Complete Poetical Works of Robert Burns

Blandford, 2013

Words for Wednesday

Words for Wednesday

Delores from ‘The Feathered Nest’ offers six words as a writing prompt – recalcitrant, fangs, dithering, glassy, rodeo, wet. Why not visit her and see what other writing has been prompted?

It was summer and the season of school fayres and community fêtes with every group hoping to raise funds. In a bid to appeal to a wider audience the local church had decided to rename their Flower Festival the Floral Rodeo. People came out of curiosity, hoping for prancing stallions in the aisles but found instead dithering officials apologising for any disappointment they had caused. Recalcitrant children, dragged along by their parents, bared their fangs in a semblance of good humour as a rather wet young curate tried to engage them in conversation. Glassy-eyed visitors, anxious to escape his enthusiastic exhortations to join the congregation, gladly donated substantial amounts of loose change to the church restoration fund and gratefully made their exit to the cool air of an English summer.

The Entropy Gang's July blog (formerly Conservatory Cats' Chats)

The Entropy Gang’s July blog (formerly Conservatory Cats’ Chats)

Isambard, Bertie, Jellicoe and Herschel

Herschel: Since last we wrote some interesting things have occurred.

Isambard: First we all went to spend a day with the Vet servants. I was much happier this time because my brothers came with me.

Jellicoe: The Vet servants’ nurse who greeted us was really excited.

Herschel: She had never seen Ocicats before so we were met with great enthusiasm.

Isambard: We were taken into another room but we don’t really know what happened next.

Jellicoe: Don’t you remember? We were each given an injection and then we fell asleep.

Herschel: When we woke up we felt that something was missing but we didn’t quite know what.

Isambard, Herschel and Jellicoe on the cat tree 

Isambard: We all had something we didn’t have before – transparent collars. We couldn’t get them off even though we tried.

Jellicoe: We were pleased when The Thinker and The Maid came to take us home. They thought we were going to be quiet. I don’t know why.

Herschel: We were so pleased to be out of the little pens we had been kept in at the Vets that we charged all over the house.

Isambard: The collars made a screeching noise as they scraped along the floor and it was difficult to groom ourselves. They got rather a lot of food in them, too.

Jellicoe: We had to go back to the Vets to be checked and then at last The Thinker and The Maid took the collars off and we were free again.

Herschel: Since then I have been into the GARDEN three times. I wasn’t supposed to because the special fence isn’t in place yet.

Isambard: The THINKER and The MAID have had to wait while their next-door neighbours had a new fence put up. It looks very smart.

Jellicoe: The DOGS didn’t like it because the men had to come into our GARDEN and they barked. Then BERTIE realised that next-door’s GARDEN was open and he could go in it. He liked that.

Herschel: We have plenty of room to play in the house. We can climb very high.

Herschel and Jellicoe 

Isambard: We’ve all been on top of the kitchen cupboards . . .

 Jellicoe and Herschel

Jellicoe: . . . and the grandfather clock . . .

 Herschel 

Jellicoe

Herschel: . . . and we like climbing the wire mesh door that allows fresh air into the sitting room but doesn’t let us out.

Isambard

 Herschel (and Bertie)

 Isambard: The THINKER and The MAID say they’re going to move the bird feeder. They think we might catch the birds.

Jellicoe: We can catch flies and spiders but they’re much smaller.

Herschel: Some of the birds are quite small but the black and white birds (editor’s note: Magpies) and the heavy grey ones (editor’s note: wood pigeons) are too big for us.

Isambard: We could work together – we’re good at that.

Jellicoe: For example, we know how to open doors but we can’t quite manage it yet. We keep trying, though.

Herschel: In the mornings, as soon as we hear any movement from the BEDROOM where The THINKER and The MAID and the DOGS sleep we start miaouing and scratching at the door. Isambard is the first to start and he tries to push the door handle down to open the door.

Isambard: I jump down on it from the chest of drawers.

Jellicoe: Eventually we are allowed into the BEDROOM and we purr very loudly for a very long time and then we settle down on the bed and go to sleep.

Herschel: We’ve discovered a new game. One of us hides, one of us stays with The THINKER and The MAID and one of us goes upstairs.

Isambard: I usually stay downstairs with the Servants and Jellicoe goes upstairs while Herschel hides.

Jellicoe: After a while I start to cry and that alarms the Servants. They’re always relieved when they see me so then I go upstairs again and miaou.

Herschel: That’s when the Servants freak out. They know where Jellicoe and Isambard are but they realise they haven’t seen me. They hunt everywhere for me, even in the places I’ve never been. Then one of them sees me in the cat tree. I’m usually asleep by the time they find me. It’s fun to play hide and seek but it can get rather boring.

Isambard: We are still creating entropy. Yesterday we knocked a casserole dish off the top of the cupboard and broke it. The bits went everywhere. The MAID had to use the vacuum cleaner and that made GUS shiver and shake – silly DOG.

Jellicoe, Isambard and Herschel

Jellicoe: Time for a zizz now – I hope next time we can show you some photographs of us in the GARDEN. We’re really looking forward to exploring OUTDOORS.

We are linking to Gattina's Cats on Tuesday