Tag Archives: Snowing

It Was Snowing!

Koyla In a Tree.png

Today I got up just like any other normal day, hopped out of the bedroom window and into the very tall Pine tree outside. A devastatingly dangerous maneuver which I accomplish every day with not only elegance but also bravery and most of all style.

Outside it had started to rain and the Pine needles were giving off a sort of ‘Badedas’ aroma which if you happen to know what ‘Badedas’ actually is will tell you that I paused for a little while to enjoy the Pine Freshness while I got lightly soaked, but it was worth getting wet just to breath in the aroma.

After I had wriggled and squirmed my way down the centre of the tree, in a sort of worm like ‘on your belly like action’ I stepped out onto the grass which was wet and really very cold, actually I think that was when I noticed that the rain was very cold and to be honest it wasn’t really rain anymore it was sleet. I have always thought that sleet was nasty and insidious stuff which creeps into you fur and makes even a warm cuddly Cat feel cold.

To shelter from the sleet and try to stay warm I hopped, skipped and jumped under the cover of some beautiful white Chrysanthemums and started to – err well how can I put it? I did what I do every morning and night and sometimes at midday depending upon how the fancy takes me and my um, err ‘needs.’

No! You still haven’t worked out what I was doing? Humans! I was going to the toilet of course! Cats prefer an outdoor convenience whenever possible and so would you if you had to scrape around in a litter tray and although I don’t like plugging my wonderful book “Getting Out Excerpts From A Cats Diary” the Cat being me of course – you can read all about litter trays in it and if the fancy takes you buy it here Amazon.com and if you don’t want to feed a giant multinational you can always feed a really good looking Cat and get a copy from my www – wickedly wonderful website www.thecatsdiary.com.

So I was doing my ‘business’ as my Mum used to call it – she didn’t actually she was far to mock posh for that, but it is a great euphemism don’t you think? Then the sleet turned to snow right there in front of my eyes, now wonder the rain had been so cold nature was working herself up into a frosty frenzy!

I can tell you that I very quickly did a cover up that most politicians would envy, and made a snowy dash for the Pine tree and the warmth of my bedroom.

Have I mentioned my translator John Woodcock I do quite often in my wonderful book (see above) he is not the most exceptional member of the human race and when you humans actually finish your ‘race’ I expect him to be very close to the back. Like most marathon runners these days he will get a medal because have you noticed any idiot who can stumble across any ‘open’ charity marathon after 12 or so hours still ‘wins’ something! Only humans could do that because everyone has to be a winner – you are all quite mad.

Oops I interrupted myself didn’t I! Where was I – oh yes my translator, mmh guess what my ‘gifted’ translator did today, just to annoy me I think? He closed the window, yes of course it was the window I had so elegantly, stylishly and bravely leapt from only minutes before and indeed the window I use up to three times a day unless I have ‘eaten something’ if you know what I mean and have to use it more regularly and in a hurry.

Me? Oh you’re concerned. You want to know what happened next and in particular to ‘me’ – you are so kind and of course the best sort of humans – my cuddly fans. I bumped my cold nose on the close icy unforgiving glass that is what happened to ‘me!’

Then I sat on the very cold and extremely wet windowsill and got annoyed. When that didn’t work I pawed at the window in frustration and when that failed I cried as pitifully as I could! You must know that sound it’s the stock and trade of any trapped, bored or playful Cat, the “I’m stuck up a tree sound.”

It’s brilliant and works every time, usually a fire engine will turn up and I had great expectations for that very occurrence, passers by were stopping and pointing into the sky and ‘windoward’ (if that is a word).

Unfortunately, because I like a scene, the fire brigade or Hasiči as the fire brigade are called here in the Czech Republic didn’t attend this Cat emergency because the idiot translator heard the very loud cries of the Cat on the windowsill – namely me of course. The noise may have broken some windows somewhere and caused nightmares in little children but in my defence I believe that the volume of the screams was merely proportional to the emergency.

The window opened (though I noticed not very wide, obviously to not let in the cold and snow hrrumph!) and I scampered in making as much noise as I could while running over the bed covers, polished desk and scatter rugs, then with a flourish to finish the polished hardwood floor. It is astonishing just how much mud one can collect on four paws and then distribute liberally around someone’s home if ‘one’ is very annoyed.

As usual in these circumstances there were some benefits on the fringe and quite right too I say – I was given a bowl full to the brim of fresh Prawns which was nice, but I expect more this afternoon and some Tuna would help to salve my dented pride for supper and if it isn’t too much trouble to ask i would be delighted if the window was left open while I am outside taking my ‘constitutional’ as Gladstone or Queen Victoria probably called ‘it.’

There is one thing that you may be able to help me with dear reader because this question has always bugged the paws off me because I just can’t seem to find the answer and you all know that I am a genius which of course makes all of this even more frustrating – who is Christmas Carol and why is she so famous at Christmas, and what on earth does she do for the other 48 weeks of the year?

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We’re A Bit Worried Here!

It’s Ginger! Well it would be wouldn’t it, he seems to have slipped away during the party, not it is ok not that sort of slipped away like when people talk about you after you have frozen in the path of an oncoming car for too long, not he popped out with some friends.

I have uploaded the most recent picture of Ginger I could find in a hurry it is from his failed or as he put it “yet to be refined” walking on air experiment.

Gingers walking on air experiment.jpg

Actually one or two of the slack mouths around here said that Ginger and his friends had gone off somewhere to enjoy an eight of Catnip but I don’t think that can be right he hates the stuff, well since the overdose that is!

I have every faith, including probably a lot of misplaced faith, that he will turn up somewhere, he always does, unless he is angry for some reason then he can sulk for ages but don’t worry his butt is worse then his bite, if you know what I mean and I think I do!

The trouble is that it is still snowing here and has been since before Christmas and it is cold enough to really annoy any brass monkey, so if Ginger is outside he could be completely Cap’n Scott by now couldn’t he? If you know what I mean!

It was something of an anniversary for the good Cap’n Scott and the lads recently, I believe it was one or two hundred years since they decided to see if you could get to the South Pole just wearing a string vest, knitted mittens and a smile.

Sadly some Norwegians had beaten him to the South Pole in a Volvo and left what they thought was a funny note “We beat you here” it said, obviously Norwegians are better at Polar exploring than telling jokes.

But the good news for Cap’n Scott and his chums was that when news of their deaths reached Britain they all instantly became heroes. It is the British way to make heroes out of failures and legends out of disasters, hence Gordon of Khartoum who faced millions of really annoyed ‘fuzziwuzzies’ as people, such as the good people of Khartoum, were called back in ‘Chinese Gordon’s’ time (that was his nickname, no I don’t know why either).

It is understood that General Gordon who instantly became “Gordon of Khartoum” died because of an unfortunate clerical misprint and a dreadful diplomatic error!

It is believed that the thousands of people who gathered outside General Gordon’s offices waving spears and wearing frowns were actually complaining about their gas bills and had simply gone to the wrong address – the one at the top of their gas bills.

Chinese Gordon, annoyed at the noise outside went out to meet the rabble with a loaded pistol which he emptied into the crowd.

Not long after General Gordon’s death the gas company quietly changed the address on the gas bills and the British government instructed all British residents living in foreign countries not to answer their doors with a loaded pistol.

Needless to say in true Dunkirk spirit General Gordon was brought home and buried with full honours, his actions were rewritten and a painting was produced to ‘assist’ the new ‘facts’ and another British legend was born.

Gordondeath.jpg

Of course it isn’t only personal disasters that the British celebrate, bless them, by rewriting history and creating heroes, just read about British military history and you’ll learn all about The Charge of the Light Brigade, Dunkirk, Operation Market Garden and many more glorious military escapes, and of course the idiots involved and in charge of those farces were all promoted!

To tell the truth – and of course Cats can be relied on to do just that, which is at times a bit of a chink in our character armour as far as I am concerned – this good looking Cat has a bit of a soft spot for poor old Cap’n Scott because he was obviously a bit of a character as I am sure were his pals, if you want to read an extract from his ‘alternative’ diary there is a little snippet in my wonderful best selling book “Excerpts from a Cat’s Diary” which is available at all really great bookstores and of course Amazon.com.

There are quite a few snippets of diary of famous British failures who of course are national heroes in the UK, well I had run out of things to write and so I thought, now what would Livingstone say here and the rest is a best seller.

By the way Ginger has just turned up, he wasn’t outside at all, apparently he had another of his little ‘episodes,’ he said that he slipped into the airing cupboard and got entangled in a pair or probably two pairs of ladies (I presume) tights!

I wonder about Ginger sometimes, he has been wrapped up in nylons for three days and didn’t try to very hard to escape, that is odd isn’t it, it isn’t just me, is it?

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