Chinese Curses

I am living in Interesting Times. The cats in their infinite wisdom deemed our freeview digibox as a target for their insurrection against kittens. One of them kindly scented it and in so doing it died. Non plussed I took off for Argos to buy one that they advertised. I diligently wrote the number down and checked with their machine that it was correct and in stock. Sorry said the machine we are out of that product. I was not perturbed. I selected a similar machine and that too was out of stock as were three and four. At this point the prices had risen considerably and I could have been better off purchasing something that gave me other channels. I though this through and decided that the new cat flap (Pukwadji who is very large has broken out existing one) and a new toilet seat were more pressing and that I could probably get a digibox from Tesco the following day. I therefore took down the numbers of the cat flap and tested the machine which indicated I was in luck. I then took down the numbers of the toilet seat and this too looked good. I advanced on their self service machines and again inserted the numbers. Wrong said the machine we do not recognise these codes. Back I went to the catalogue section. By this time the store was beginning to overflow with people. I rechecked the numbers and as this was in a different catalogue position yes they were not the same as I had originally written. I returned to self service. Wrong numbers said the machine. I returned to the catalogue section. This time that machine declared everything to be out of stock. I left.

Arriving back in Greenford I noted the bus for our giant Tesco was approaching and decided to go there rather than waste two days on this quest. I came out with lots of interesting cooking spices and no digibox. They had decided to discontinue their cheaper ones. Our Tesco is interesting in that someone steals the panties from the underwear section one at a time. Obviously this is so that they cannot set of any alarms but it is very frustrating if you wanted to buy a pack of the items.

I crossed the giant car park. It had once again started to rain. I crossed the road and before me I saw the countrywide stores of the washing machine people or rather our one of the same. I admitted defeat and continued through their giant car park to the front doors. The wonderful sales staff sold me a slightly more expensive than I had wanted to pay digibox but at least it was cheaper than Argos or Tesco. It was raining again when I left. The next day I was suffering from a chill and too wobbly to connect anything but such is life.

It Will Not All Come Out In The Wash

There are days when you ask yourself why? I guess this has become one of those days. It started pleasantly enough with much kitten entertaining. There were some off colour clouds on the horizon but not enough to take my spirits totally over. I was considering some work on the forest but first I needed to start the washing machine, which I did. I noticed that it was behaving strangely and then that the drum was not turning. I stopped the machine. I pumped the water out. I checked the pump trap and found the curtain clips that had been going missing. I started the machine. I stopped the machine. I tried all the different programmes. I pumped even more water out.

Eureka said a voice in my head it must be that belt thing. I dragged the machine out from its position under the work top. This left me feeling faint. I took up my trusty collection of screwdrivers and discovered that the fiends who construct washing machines do not use normal screws. Stumped for a short while I investigated the cost of washing machines on the Internet and in a catalogue. One of the local super stores seemed to have the best deal, but then I remembered that I had some amazingly odd screw pieces in with my new hammer drill. I unpacked them all and yes I had the perfect bit to open up the machine. I manoeuvred it into a position that was reachable but it did put a lot of pressure on my knees. I was feeling distinctly unhappy crouched under the work top trying to dismantle the beast but eventually I did and I replaced the fan belt. Then I had to get everything back into place and this took what felt like hours. I started the machine. The drum did not function. I drained the machine and resigned myself to a bearing problem. Defeat was inevitable.

I went back to the Internet and with many misgivings ordered a new washing machine from the well known company. Free delivery it said. Well only if I wanted to wait a week. Why was that not up front with the other information? I paid the delivery charge as it was necessary to finish the washing and do some three other loads. It was all in order and I printed out my confirmation. Did I actually say confirmation? Did they call it confirmation? Why yes they did do so. Odd then that I received an automatic email stating that it was not in stock and that one of their amazing customer advisors would contact me within twenty four hours to discuss alternatives. Did they imagine I buy washing machines on a whim? Did they think I might choose them to match my shoes and handbags? Had it not crossed someone in head offices mind that certain people buy machines because they need them and they need them as soon as possible? I have no alternative but to wait. I have a washing line covered in sodden, dirty, soapy washing. I did have things to do that rated some importance today. It would seem that it is not to be. The one certainty is that I will not be buying anything else from the well known retailer with country wide stores.

It Isn't Easy Being Green

My second son decided to turn forty on Friday. This necessitated his lovely partner organising a party and this they decided to do in the fields belonging to her mother who is also one of my oldest friends. This was entitled the Summer of Love tent festival, 1969 revisited. Originally second daughter was attending for me but as she had just started a new position within the BBC she was exhausted and in the end I agreed to take her place. To those that are not au fait, I have been undergoing a series of tests stretching back some eight months now and the latest is an attempt to resolve a pain in my side, which has unfortunately or perhaps fortunately, not shown up on a gallstone scan. In the absence of any other sacrifices I was therefore despatched to Norfolk pain et al. Number one son and his partner took me. It was a good thing that I was not being put up in a tent as there would have been no room in the car as they had all the creature comforts that they could muster with them.

We arrived after six hours as they wanted to stop and have a proper pub meal and then a trip around Asda to buy supplies. I was desperately in need of a gin and tonic by this time as they had started the bickering common to people travelling and not map reading properly. Several G & Ts later I inspected my sleeping arrangements (the old camper van next to the new hay barn) The original barn is still there but the new one is almost three times the size and they have permission to convert it into a house. The main field leading up to the home wood was the camping area and on the level section they had laid out bales for a quad bike circuit. A badminton net was also set up and various other entertainments were available to tire out children. It did start on to rain around 10pm but at this point we were retiring to the hay barn for a karaoke session. They have lots of electrical points and two televisions were set up in the barn for karaoke and games. My friend dragged me off for a much appreciated coffee, to the main farm house, and I actually went to bed without joining in with the singing. This was probably a good thing as I lost my voice many years back and three blind mice is about the extent of my present repertoire.

I made a trip to the porta loo in the night minus a torch and walked into a giant puddle followed by stinging nettles. I woke twice more and read some of my book and watched the dawn come up which is always better out of town. I saw one of the planets close to the Eastern horizon and also a satellite passing over. (they move slower than aeroplanes, or rather they appear to in relation to their distance from the earth) Then I fell into a deep sleep and everyone else got up. They had a barbequed breakfast back on the hill, which was very good and I greatly enjoyed the forbidden fruits of fried bacon, and when the tents were dry (it poured all night) they started to break up camp. At this point and without provocation, I was stung by a wasp. I took a large dose of piriton and sat very still until I was certain I would not react any further but the area is horribly swollen and I have continued with some more piriton in an attempt to curtail its spread. I have also used marigold leaves as my Krishna friend in New Zealand swears by them. I am now green and swollen but I itch less!

Needless to say coming back also took time as we had to stop for yet another meal. To add to this, Second daughter, in her infinite wisdom had saved me a kebab from Saturday with rice and then cooked me a huge chicken dinner. How I am supposed to reduce cholesterol and lose weight whilst amongst certain sections of my family I dread to think. I may go on a prolonged visit to Youngest daughter as at least she is a student and not inclined to feed me more than beans. (Actually she is a great cook but a vegetarian so there are fewer calories!)

Yesterday I saw the physiotherapist for the first time and what a beautiful young man he was. I have some fun exercises to do ha ha and I am due back in September. The next consultation regarding the pain in my side is on the thirteenth. The odd thing is that it did not affect me in Norfolk. Perhaps the stones have passed, if it was that or maybe I do have pulled muscles of some description in that area.

Whilst I was away, my friend John rang again and invited us to a dinner party later in the month so I will get to visit the garden of wondrous delights yet again. This is fast becoming a summer of strange experiences and too much food. Meanwhile the remaining kits are still marauding and have discovered the delights of knocking plants over whilst ensuring ornaments are destroyed. Two are due off in a week’s time Two are still available. (Note the faint pleading tone in that last statement.)

The Secret Garden

On Saturday we were invited to attend a garden party. It was set in Hanwell on the West Ealing borders and to anyone who is cognisant with the area this does not necessarily indicate a palatial setting when the word garden is referenced. However hidden behind high fencing we came across the most beautiful and creative oasis that you could ever hope to find. A veritable poem of a secret garden. The front area was domed over by tree branches creating a tunnelled effect adding to the sense of entering another world. It was obviously appreciated by wild life as I noted a birds nest high up in the branches. The flat itself was outstanding but the rear garden literally took my breath away. Everywhere you turned there was something exceptional to marvel at. The real wonder was the size of the garden as it was in reality quite a small space but crammed into it and not looking as if they were fighting for that space were various shrubs, ponds, fountains, a Jacuzzi, barbeque area and a variety of open spaces for sitting including what they had cleverly labelled a quadroundel as it was a fourth of a round seating summer house. Stones and statues peeped out and created juxtapositions with the various bushes and flagged mounds. Coloured solar and white lights were cunningly placed to accentuate the areas of interest and split bamboo screens hid the roadway from behind fir trees. In contrast to those garden plants that we look upon as ‘normal’ in relation to the British weather, there were large cacti openly growing and in a small but compact greenhouse an incredible display of cacti of various sizes, many of which were in flower. Philip the creator of this space admitted that it had taken eighteen years to bring it to perfection. It was truly a work of art.

My friend John, and Wesley another of the flat mates had produced a very appetising display of party food and the wine flowed freely. There were so many interesting people to chat too and some had come from as far away as Norfolk to attend. It was a real pleasure to have been there and to meet them all. We arrived home around midnight, perhaps a little merrier than we should have been. The cats complained that we had been gone too long and demanded food before we were permitted to fall into our beds.

Cat has Trophies

Just when I thought it could not get any worse the kitten invasion spread to the living room. This occurred largely through the machinations of Youngest daughter and her affianced, who trapped the critters in an attempt to impose order on their chaos. The results were howling in various keys that continued into the small hours. They hid in every recess available and in a major breakout two fled for the upstairs. Youngest daughter throwing herself in the path of the main Tuxedo culprit suffered various scratches and abrasions. The howling continued as Tuxedo two missed his sibling and eventually for the sake of those needing sleep he too was released into the care of his mother.

Angel meanwhile had visited the veterinary surgeon to be neutered. She was extremely well behaved during this ordeal and decided that the cat carrier was a suitable cave to hide out in from the unwanted attention of the kittens during the next two days.

We originally named the upstairs group ‘the renegade three’. They have established a bridge head in the storage room from which they can occasionally erupt to cause maximum destruction. However, yesterday the managed to earn themselves yet another nickname. I was awakened by the thundering of tiny paws and realised that they were racing up and down the stairs. As the main house cats are not particularly kitten friendly I went to investigate and make sure they were properly chaperoned. Middle daughter has a habit of leaving her clean washing on the stairs until her brain synapses click into carry it up mode. The kittens had used a pile of clean washing to form a sledge run and it lay in confusion about the lower hall. That is apart from socks. They had been selecting socks and carrying them upstairs as some form of trophy. I retrieved the aforementioned socks and replaced the washing in a neat pile. The guilty parties hung over the top of the banisters with angelic expressions on their faces. They are now known as the Tuxedo Mafia.

London Visit

On Saturday Eldest daughter arrived in London for an educational conference. Happy to have another chance of a grand day out Middle daughter and Eldest son, complete with his partner, were dragged into Paddington to meet up at the Hilton hotel. From this salubrious venue we made out way to a public house that had been researched for its good food and real ale content by Eldest son. It was a good choice apart from the fact that it has been some time since my body experienced a good British bitter and it chose to be upset by a pint of this substance. The meal that I had was amazingly good both for the money and the actual content. I chose a beef steak pie with seasonal vegetables and the pastry alone was a hymn to the powers of their cook.

Following this we caught a bus (this turned out to be a bad move) from the Paddington area along Oxford Street to the British Museum. It was an exceptionally hot day and two elderly passengers had to get off the bus and escape from the heat. I felt considerably faint and actually had to sit out the museum trip in the shade. The others visited the Syrian and the Egyptian exhibit and were thoroughly worn out by the time the museum closed. They are holding an exhibition of Aztec works later in the year and this is probably a good time for me to go back and visit again.

We intended to move on to Museum Street and visit Atlantis. This bookshop sells many different books and articles that relate to the esoteric. Some of their books being secondhand copies of works that are no longer available. We did arrive in time to see part of the stock and I unfortunately bought three books just prior to their closing which coincided with the first drops of storm rain. The need to seek shelter took us into another public house and there we sat and watched some tennis in between drinking a few glasses of white wine. By the time we emerged Forbidden Planet, which was also on our list to visit, had long since closed. There was nothing left to do but depart for China Town and visit the Malaysian restaurant that Eldest son’s partner had researched on the Internet.

Again we had a very good meal and making our way to Piccadilly and from their Paddington, everyone departed in their own directions. Middle daughter and myself made our way back to Southall Station and thence the bus stop where we encountered an old diving school friend who had been on the same train. It was such an eventful day and we were exhausted by the time we arrived home. The cats were not happy. Some were on the missing list. A dead rat had been left in the kitchen for our supper (this is a sure sign of their displeasure). During the night I was awoken by Demon who had caught yet another juvenile rat and was playing with it in the hallway. Middle daughter commented that they must have been sacrificing them at the alter of their particular cat gods to make sure we returned. The dead bodies were removed and all seemed to have settled when in the living room I came across a frog pretending to be a statue. It was very much alive and certainly not happy about being indoors. I transported it back to the garden now sodden with rain.
Later this afternoon we are off to a barbeque in celebration of a first communion. I dread to think what will await us on our return.

The Great Escape

On Wednesday evenings I attend the local Spiritualist Church Circle, where we meditate and attempt to contact those that have passed over. I arrive home from this at around ten o’clock and usually Middle daughter is asleep. Last night was just a little different as when I opened the door three of the house cats met me with pitiful expressions. (This is not entirely unusual as I frequently have one meet me with reproach for daring to leave them alone) This time however there was a general air of “It wasn’t my fault”.

I placed my bag down in the hallway and started to take out some bits and pieces when the door to youngest daughter’s room creaked open and the thunder of size six feet descended the stairs with Middle daughter attached. She had the look of someone who has been through a major crisis and I was suitably alarmed. “I can’t find one of them”, she said. (This is also not unusual so I was puzzled at her concern).

“I found Batman half way down the stairs,” she continued, “and Mini me was in my bedroom. Also two of the Tuxedo’s were in the bathroom with the Tabby.” It seems that Angel decided to have an evening out as well and in her absence the tribe decided to check out some more suitable territory. Kittens had streamed out of their room and over the entire upper floor. (Not to mention down the stairs into house cat territory). The problem with this adventure is that they are still only half tame and also extremely willful. Scare tactics had worked on Batman and to some extent on the others and she had lured those unresponsive to fear with their favourite toy, however one of the Tuxedo’s was missing.

As I originally had a much larger area to contain my many pastimes the small bedroom at this house is packed full of boxes and bags containing bits that seemed to be of great importance once upon a time. I have been thinking of sorting through these at some future point when there was less for me to do like watching CSI or chatting on the telephone, so to find one small and largely black kitten in amongst a badly constructed pyramid of belongings was not something that I could swear to being keen on. We checked the usual places that furry bodies liked to sleep in and found no extra kittens. I sat in the room until Angel returned in the hope of getting them to come out and play en masse but this too turned up no extra Tuxedo bodies. Eventually I crawled off to sleep.

This morning all the monsters were there bright eyed and bushy tailed. I begin to suspect that they are deliberately toying with us. I await the arrival of Youngest daughter next week with some satisfaction as she can throw her energy into catching them and I can retire to the forest for some gentle tree dismantling.