It's enough to make a cat laugh

As I am currently fighting off an impending cold and want to shake it off before it gets a good hold, I decided having done enough housework for the time being, to have a lie down.

Settling into a comfortable snooze I was startled into an abrupt sitting up position by a loud and insistent crashing sound from downstairs.

I knew the back door was locked so was more than a bit worried as to who or what the intruder might be.

Even standing in the kitchen I at first couldn't  locate the source of the racket.

Then as it recommenced at last I realised that the cat-flap was being systematically bashed.

Opening the door I was confronted by a large pale ginger and white cat which was attempting to put its head through the locked (for the past 6 years) cat flap.

I have been feeding this monster for about two years whenever he appears, since, though I am fairly sure he has a home, he is seldom in it.

Often at 6.oo am he is on the step, cold wet and miserable so he gets a large handful of cat biscuits, drinks from the birdbath and wanders off.

Today he hadn't appeared earlier on and was obviously incensed that I was not waiting for him to show up biscuits in hand.

After he had scoffed every last crumb he took himself off to the centre of my rose garden and lay down on the yellow poppies in order to keep them warm.

My yelling "get off there" produced a yawn wide enough to swallow a whale and he curled into a ball, squashing everything in sight.

I know when I'm beaten so retired to resume my rest secure in the knowledge that my garden had its security officer in place.

Am seriously contemplating replacing the door with one without a cat flap.

Falling leaves

The tree once full of leaves is losing them day by day.

Every day another one falls and each day the tree becomes closer to being a skeleton, branches bare.

Sadness is in the air

We who are the leaves watch and wait for our turn.

That is not to say we have no other thoughts, but that we notice how few our companions are.

The gaps are more numerous than the leaves and the outline of the tree is clearer every day.

We mourn and miss each falling leaf but welcome the ability to see the shape of the tree.
Yesterday the leaf that was my brother-in-law fell to the ground.

Rest in Peace Terry. X

Boys' Toys (He had a dream)

My lovely next-door-neighbour Colin came home some 10 years ago with this beautiful little Lotus.

He had always wanted one and at least had the chance to buy one cheaply (he said), which needed some parts but was otherwise perfect.

Never really a car person (I don't drive), but none the less very drawn to this little beauty, I was even more attracted to it when Colin demonstrated how it 'opened its eyes'.

This and the Delorean (can't spell it) with its 'bat wing doors' have always had a special place in my affections/

Sadly Colin, a very busy policeman had to put on hold the work on the car until he could obtain the necessary bits and pieces.

In the interim it 'lived' in his garage.

These houses are small and many/most people use their garages for extra storage. Lynne, Colin's long-suffering wife had no such extra space, so was keen to see the car up and running.

Months, then years went by and Colin would push the car out of the garage at intervals tinker briefly then break his back returning it to its 'home'.

Their family grew to two children, both now teenagers, and still the space in the house grew less as the children grew and the accessories to their lives expanded.

At last the ever patient Lynne persuaded Colin to sell the car using the need to build on over the garage or move house as her reason.

Very reluctantly he agreed to part with it and advertised it.

Yesterday a truck arrived and after putting up an hour's 'fight' the little Lotus was finally persuaded onto the loader and left her comfortable home of ten years for places new.

The final glimpse of her, eyes open and staring straight ahead was the one below.


 Half the close was out watching her departure and I think I detected a tear in Colin's eye. (Not really)

Lynne had a little smile on her face.  Can't think why.

When is a technophobe not a technophobe?

Technophobia is not as wimpish as it sounds, or at least that's my opinion.

While freely admitting to a total lack of interest in, or expertise in any form of technology, and also admitting that improving on that state would be very hard work for any unsuspecting tutor, I also maintain that such knowledge is in no way essential for survival in this enlightened age.

I "toil not, neither do I spin", which loosely translated means I do nothing online other than blog, read blogs comment on blogs, email and Google 'stuff'.
I do not and will not buy anything on-line.  This is purely a form of self-preservation from those who wish to  know more about me than I am willing to impart.

Only this morning I watched in horrified disbelief an episode of "Fake Britain", in which an intelligent and bright young man was 'sucked in', worked on, and finally deprived of most of his savings, his job, his home etc. by none other than fraudulent on-liners

Every day new scams are dreamed up and put into operation by the morally bankrupt but technologically gifted underworld operatives.

So-called 'smart' phones are hijacked and robbed of their data, leaving their ex-owners potless.

My mobile phone is anything but smart (a bit like its owner), and was John's property for at least two years before his death.  Which is to say, it is old fashioned in the extreme.

This is totally unimportant to me since I use it about four times a year, to call a cab.

I have no need of an all-dancing all-singing bit of sharp technology - let's face it I wouldn't know what to do with it.

As soon as a company whose goods I buy goes 'on-line only' I switch to a new company.

There may  be good reasons form many people to put every aspect of their retail and financial life in the public domain, but for the life of me I cannot imagine any.

Prove me wrong and I will (reluctantly) do what everyone else is doing, but if you can't, leave me to my happy technophobia.