The tail of not-our-cat

First off, big hug and a smooch to angelsnow. Package arrived this morning, miracle of all miracles, as the post office seems to have rediscovered its capability to deliver first class post in under a week. Thankyou SO much, and I shall open everything tomorrow as soon as work is over. Wheeeeeeeeeee!

:D


So, anyway. Not-our-cat, henceforth imaginitively referred to as "Kitty!" seems to have finally decided that living under the bush in the front garden is all well and good, but it's buggering cold out there, and indoors is better.
Not completely, mindyou, she's not consigned herself to a life of domestication quite yet, but not-our-cat has been coming indoors more frequently and for much longer stretches of time this week.

Long enough for me to get some photos for once.

Not-our-cat, "Kitty!", really is NOT our cat... well allegedly anyway. She actually belonged to the old guy who lived across the street. Now apparently he died in the summer and apparently it seems rather than attempt to rehome the kitty, the powers thet be just punted her out to roam free.
So she's not our cat, but she's technially not anyone else's either. So she's sort-of-our-cat, all the while she feels like it.

( Not our cat, on our kitchen floor )

Kitty is also grubby and smells of leaf-litter from sleeping in the flowerbeds. Just in case you wanted to know.


So still to do today... exercise, have lunch and make cake for Thursday/Friday. Also musn't forget to burn that CD of python songs for Ayo and sort out the truly frightening accumulation of downloaded images before it gets any more out of control. I should really crack on.

(no subject)

So, I have been at least mildly productive today...
Burned the CDs I owed people, scanned in the comic I promised I was going to scan, put away the truly scary and gigantic stack of unsorted and unbagged comics that were about 6 inches away from getting hideously damaged if they'd stayed where they were any longer. I cycled and am exhausted today like you would not fucking believe. I've not yet sorted the bulging and ready to pop folder of downloaded pic, nor have I made cake, but the former can wait a little longer and the latter... well there's always after dinner. Or even tomorrow.
Today I am just fatigued, I think. And more than ready for oily, nekkid Hugh to come by and take my mind off things in that inimitable way...

It looks nothing like ham, quit fooling yourself. Ham is not that grey and slimy

So I pottered downstairs to get some toast... because for some reason I really wanted toast, right?

The family are all huddled round the TV watching an autopy in the living room.

No, I'm not fucking kidding, and I don't mean they were watching CSI either. My biology teachin' mother was reviewing a tape for her human anatomy and access to Medicine classes, and for some reason the boy-creatures in the house have gathered around to watch.

I admit, going down to get toast, I did not expect to see a naked dead guy dangling from a hoist getting his skin removed, and it did take me a moment of going WTF? before I actually realised that's what it was.

So yes... they're watching an autopsy in the living room, and Kat's hiding in the study looking like she's trying not to throw up.

And I'm up here, having consumed my toast well out of the way in the kitchen, wondering what it is about boys of all ages that makes them so amazingly interested in gross things.

The maternal one I can understand, it's part and parcel of the job... and while I can generally cope fine with dead things I have no real burning desire to see them reduced down to their component parts. The boys on the other hand seem to have taken up residence purely for the joy of seeing slimy dead bits of organ go flopping across a steel table...

Boys are weird.



Throw rocks at them.