At this precise minute Fillipa is flying through the Oxfordshire countryside in her new convertible. Within 20 minutes of taking delivery of the beast the top came down, a CD went in, leather driving gloves were donned along with a silk scarf and sun glasses and without further ado she was off.
Its difficult to keep up with her exact movements due to the gay abandon with which she has attacked this inaugural expedition. However, I do know that she has taken on her first chauffeuring engagement and is due at Preachers Lane within the next hour. From there she will be speeding with outrageous style to the Gate where she intends to drive up and down the road outside at approximately 6mph for most of the evening.
Please, if you do see her, do not step in front of the vehicle, it is highly unlikely that she would stop. Do however feel free to wave. I know that Fillipa has high hopes that her fantastic new automobile will turn out to be a "right old knob magnet".
Friday 27 April 2007
I Don't Understand
Mr Big Lou spends most of his waking hours being scarred of me. He is sometimes too scarred to come into the house when I open the door for him, unless of course its teatime. Even then, once he has had his fill he scurries away, cowering as he goes. To a casual observer it could easily appear that Mr Big Lou was subjected to daily thrashings with a large stick.
If he sees me moving towards him he will find an escape route that avoids any contact. He never comes in when I call him and has never, ever sat on my lap. Many times when I enter a room he immediately shoots off at high speed.
Very occasionally and without warning Mr Big Lou will jump on the bed at night and lay down as close to my side as he can. Through the duvet I can feel him pushing his weight against me with quite some force. He then lets me stroke him and scrunch his fur in a rough but tender manner. After a few minutes he has wrapped his big forelegs around my arm and is gently flexing his immensely powerful claws against my arm. He does this without ever being too rough or scratching me. Sometimes he will pull my hand towards his huge mouth in a way that most cats do when they want to "play" bite. Not Mr Big Lou, as my finger reaches his powerful jaw he simply licks it. All the time this is going on he is purring so loudly that I fear he may wake the house.
Then, again without warning, he leaps up heavily and is gone. I remain and wonder if I had been dreaming but then convince myself that sometimes even Mr Big Lou needs to be loved.
If he sees me moving towards him he will find an escape route that avoids any contact. He never comes in when I call him and has never, ever sat on my lap. Many times when I enter a room he immediately shoots off at high speed.
Very occasionally and without warning Mr Big Lou will jump on the bed at night and lay down as close to my side as he can. Through the duvet I can feel him pushing his weight against me with quite some force. He then lets me stroke him and scrunch his fur in a rough but tender manner. After a few minutes he has wrapped his big forelegs around my arm and is gently flexing his immensely powerful claws against my arm. He does this without ever being too rough or scratching me. Sometimes he will pull my hand towards his huge mouth in a way that most cats do when they want to "play" bite. Not Mr Big Lou, as my finger reaches his powerful jaw he simply licks it. All the time this is going on he is purring so loudly that I fear he may wake the house.
Then, again without warning, he leaps up heavily and is gone. I remain and wonder if I had been dreaming but then convince myself that sometimes even Mr Big Lou needs to be loved.
Tuesday 24 April 2007
Road Traffic Warning
After several days of deliberation and deep, deep thinking then more deliberation, Fillipa finally took the plunge today and purchased a new automobile. Make no mistake this is no ordinary car. It is drop-top, high power sports car and it is definitely not a tarts car.
The decision making process has been both exhaustive and exhausting for all those caught up in it. On balance it appears that the most significant justification for the extravagance of this purchase, is the fact that Fillipa will only be young once. (That however remains to be seen). The final piece of the jigsaw fell into place this morning during a test drive to Great Milton. It turns out that there are only 2 pedals in the car which leaves slightly more room for Fillipa's feet. Being of a larger shoe than most this feature went immediately onto the plus side of the equation.
With respect to to the mechanics of driving the beast, the nice man who accompanied Fillipa on this death defying speed test took a line directly from his handbook of "Condescending Saying's for the Car Salesman of the 1980's";
"Just push that lever to D for drive, and don't worry your pretty little head about all those buttons on the steering wheel".
Twat!
At this precise moment the aforementioned vehicle has been removed to a secret workshop for some necessary modifications prior to its delivery. These include stiletto-proof stainless steel plates being welded to the foot-well. The attaching of a pink faux-fur trim around the leading edge of the windscreen that is designed to "pop-up" when the roof is removed. Finally, the rear-view mirror along with both wing mirrors have been extended and welded into a position that ensures Fillipa has a 360° view of herself from the driving position. The final part of the "pimping" involves extending the space in the glove box to include a chiller for Clinique products.
Delivery is anticipated for Friday afternoon or Saturday morning. Plans are being made to close the access roads to the Village in order for Fillipa to practice getting in and out of the low profile seats without revealing too much under-carriage.
The decision making process has been both exhaustive and exhausting for all those caught up in it. On balance it appears that the most significant justification for the extravagance of this purchase, is the fact that Fillipa will only be young once. (That however remains to be seen). The final piece of the jigsaw fell into place this morning during a test drive to Great Milton. It turns out that there are only 2 pedals in the car which leaves slightly more room for Fillipa's feet. Being of a larger shoe than most this feature went immediately onto the plus side of the equation.
With respect to to the mechanics of driving the beast, the nice man who accompanied Fillipa on this death defying speed test took a line directly from his handbook of "Condescending Saying's for the Car Salesman of the 1980's";
"Just push that lever to D for drive, and don't worry your pretty little head about all those buttons on the steering wheel".
Twat!
At this precise moment the aforementioned vehicle has been removed to a secret workshop for some necessary modifications prior to its delivery. These include stiletto-proof stainless steel plates being welded to the foot-well. The attaching of a pink faux-fur trim around the leading edge of the windscreen that is designed to "pop-up" when the roof is removed. Finally, the rear-view mirror along with both wing mirrors have been extended and welded into a position that ensures Fillipa has a 360° view of herself from the driving position. The final part of the "pimping" involves extending the space in the glove box to include a chiller for Clinique products.
Delivery is anticipated for Friday afternoon or Saturday morning. Plans are being made to close the access roads to the Village in order for Fillipa to practice getting in and out of the low profile seats without revealing too much under-carriage.
Saturday 21 April 2007
Conservation Gone Too Far
It is with some sadness that I have to report that Mr Big Lou has had his membership of the RSPB put on probation due to an "Incident".
In the early hours of Friday morning Mr Big Lou was out on manoeuvres when he happened upon a House Sparrow, whom we later discovered was called Nigel. According to Mr Big Lou he invited Nigel back for a peanut and a chat. However, the next time Nigel was spotted it was by The Ring Master who caught a glimpse of a trail of feathers under a bush by the patio. As he traced the line of the feathers his gaze eventually fell upon Mr Big Lou. In his mouth was the lifeless, floppy body of a House Sparrow, (Passer Domesticas), its little head having been slightly chewed. Mr Big Lou dropped the poor bird to the floor and tried to intimate that a terrible accident had occurred as he was helping his new friend through the undergrowth. Before he knew what was happening the poor bird's frail little frame had suddenly become listless.
At this point Rez, who had been hovering in an almost triumphant manner started to chant gleefully "Lou ate the birdy, Lou ate the birdy".
The Ring Master in a state of mild shock and some disappointment decided to put in a call to the RSPB. He was informed that the ruling body of the organisation would convene a special meeting to discuss recent events and determine an appropriate course of action regarding Mr Big Lou's continued membership of the organisation. In the meantime he was to be put on probation and his membership card withdrawn from circulation.
In the early hours of Friday morning Mr Big Lou was out on manoeuvres when he happened upon a House Sparrow, whom we later discovered was called Nigel. According to Mr Big Lou he invited Nigel back for a peanut and a chat. However, the next time Nigel was spotted it was by The Ring Master who caught a glimpse of a trail of feathers under a bush by the patio. As he traced the line of the feathers his gaze eventually fell upon Mr Big Lou. In his mouth was the lifeless, floppy body of a House Sparrow, (Passer Domesticas), its little head having been slightly chewed. Mr Big Lou dropped the poor bird to the floor and tried to intimate that a terrible accident had occurred as he was helping his new friend through the undergrowth. Before he knew what was happening the poor bird's frail little frame had suddenly become listless.
At this point Rez, who had been hovering in an almost triumphant manner started to chant gleefully "Lou ate the birdy, Lou ate the birdy".
The Ring Master in a state of mild shock and some disappointment decided to put in a call to the RSPB. He was informed that the ruling body of the organisation would convene a special meeting to discuss recent events and determine an appropriate course of action regarding Mr Big Lou's continued membership of the organisation. In the meantime he was to be put on probation and his membership card withdrawn from circulation.
Saturday 14 April 2007
Why
Even when you have been awake since 01:48 and 3 hours later you have just managed to drop-off, Rez feels it is important to poke you gently with her tiny paw, make a loud pitiful call and let you know she has returned from an early morning reconnaissance mission.
Even when you managed to get off to sleep at reasonable hour with Rez's small, very black body sleeping peacefully at the bottom of bed, Rez feels it is important to poke you gently with her tiny paw, make a loud pitiful call to remind you that she is there.
Even when you were poked and awoken a mere 22 minutes ago, Rez feels it is important to poke you gently with her tiny paw, make a loud pitiful call just to remind you she is still there.
Mr Big Lou's preferred method of nocturnal distraction falls in to 3 main categories.
Even when you managed to get off to sleep at reasonable hour with Rez's small, very black body sleeping peacefully at the bottom of bed, Rez feels it is important to poke you gently with her tiny paw, make a loud pitiful call to remind you that she is there.
Even when you were poked and awoken a mere 22 minutes ago, Rez feels it is important to poke you gently with her tiny paw, make a loud pitiful call just to remind you she is still there.
Mr Big Lou's preferred method of nocturnal distraction falls in to 3 main categories.
- There is the heavyweight jump from the windowsill onto the bed and/or its occupant(s). The recoil from the immense force of his landing has been known to lift the mattress from its base.
- Method 2 is slightly more subtle in that he diverts some of the blame to poor Rez. He will jump on the bed, purring very loudly rather bizarrely, and appear to nestle down for a sleep. However he has cleverly plonked his huge frame down across one of poor Rez's tiny limbs and proceeds to gently nip her. Rez of course takes a large slice of umbrage at this and leaps up noisily. Thus the effect is the same.
- Finally, Mr Big Lou's favourite method is to destroy cardboard boxes by chewing them loudly. Being woken from a sound sleep to this noise is often so disturbing that further sleep is impossible.
By way of revenge I spend much of the day waiting for the cats to drop-off before waking them with a gentle poke accompanied by a song. The songs are personal to each of them. To Rez I sing, quite loudly sometimes, "Le chat noir, sans giblet" to the theme tune of the television series of Spiderman. Mr Big Lou's tune, and I do use the term loosely, is as repetitive as Rez's tune and goes:
How are you Lou, how are you
How are you Lou, how are you, you you
How are you Lou, how are you
How are you Lou, you Lou, you Lou
Lou, Lou L-Lou-Lou
(Back to the start)
The tune for Mr Big Lou's song is the Indiana Jones theme tune.
Saturday 7 April 2007
Flying Objects
Its been an absolute revelation how the new amenities on the Village recreation ground have instantly transformed the social standing of Cuddesdon. The goalposts have proved a magnet to "footy" fans from as far a field as Nether Winchenden to the East and Hampton Poyle to the West. Since their erection, not an evening has passed without throngs of people having a jolly old kick-about. I am also happy to report that due in large part, no doubt, to the absence of any Italian or Spanish riot police, there has been no sign of any trouble from either the pitch or the spectators.
Whilst there appears to be no official dress-code to enable participation in the matches it is pleasing to see that a vast range of football apparel is often seen being modeled by the "players". Sadly, I have to confess to complete ignorance when it comes to discerning which team the colours represent, suffice to say that red seems to be very popular. Even some of the more senior players have dug out their old and somewhat faded kit and can often be seen pulling their grubby jersey's down across the apex of their beer-bellies. Unfortunately the shirts soon ride up over these mountainous regions to leave tantalising glimpses of bare, hair covered flesh.
Another pleasing aspect of this community activity is that it does not discriminate on the grounds of age in any discernible way. I have seen tiny 6 year old boys attempting to tackle enormous 47 year old landscape gardeners and hod carriers only to be trampled underfoot. Sometimes the "bigger boys" will also put on displays of fancy footwork and ball skills to impress a "lady" in the crowd and if it is at the expense of one of the diminutive youngsters, well nobody seems to mind.
I am however struggling with the structure of the games as there are rarely less than 4 footballs in play at any one time, I trust that someone knows what's going on.
Saturday afternoon saw one of the most bizarre and at the same time surreal sights to be witnessed in Cuddesdon. At the far end of the pitch a small group gathered and paid no attention to the ensuing battles on the field. They then began to unfurl what at first appeared to be an oversized black bag, or a "Tina" as Fillipa likes to call them when putting the rubbish out on a Monday morning. After about 35 minutes, what we thought was a "Tina" became a an object that was approximately 3 metres in diameter and 15 metres in length. The object, that at this point was floating just above ground level, resembled an over sized pack of liver sausage. I called Fillipa as a witness to this strange sight and she eventually arrived at the...............
Due to a hideous case of premature publication the above post was issued in mid stream and in an unfinished state. Thankfully, this was spotted by a concerned reader who reported the faux pas. I shall now retrace my steps and pick up from whence it stopped.
...............window, slightly breathless. We remained speechless for several minutes taking in the strange sights before trying in vain to agree on what exactly we were seeing. I, erroneously as it later transpired, stated categorically that the massive airborne object was a radio-controlled balloon. As the recreation ground is bordered by relatively low telephone cables I was beginning to picture a dramatic collision in the offing. After 45 minutes the tube was floating at about 45 degrees at which point both Fillipa and I bravely resisted the need to dip into our pool of crude similes, I can't begin to describe how difficult that proved. Fillipa had to leave at this point in order to start preparing for her forthcoming hostess training exams that were due on Tuesday.
The object by now had reached giddy heights and could be seen no doubt for miles. It was attached to an small man who was dressed from head to toe in waterproof plastic by an almost invisible piece of nylon cord. So it must be a radical new development in kites. I have to admit that I was suddenly gripped by the somewhat uncharitable thought of "So what".
Whilst there appears to be no official dress-code to enable participation in the matches it is pleasing to see that a vast range of football apparel is often seen being modeled by the "players". Sadly, I have to confess to complete ignorance when it comes to discerning which team the colours represent, suffice to say that red seems to be very popular. Even some of the more senior players have dug out their old and somewhat faded kit and can often be seen pulling their grubby jersey's down across the apex of their beer-bellies. Unfortunately the shirts soon ride up over these mountainous regions to leave tantalising glimpses of bare, hair covered flesh.
Another pleasing aspect of this community activity is that it does not discriminate on the grounds of age in any discernible way. I have seen tiny 6 year old boys attempting to tackle enormous 47 year old landscape gardeners and hod carriers only to be trampled underfoot. Sometimes the "bigger boys" will also put on displays of fancy footwork and ball skills to impress a "lady" in the crowd and if it is at the expense of one of the diminutive youngsters, well nobody seems to mind.
I am however struggling with the structure of the games as there are rarely less than 4 footballs in play at any one time, I trust that someone knows what's going on.
Saturday afternoon saw one of the most bizarre and at the same time surreal sights to be witnessed in Cuddesdon. At the far end of the pitch a small group gathered and paid no attention to the ensuing battles on the field. They then began to unfurl what at first appeared to be an oversized black bag, or a "Tina" as Fillipa likes to call them when putting the rubbish out on a Monday morning. After about 35 minutes, what we thought was a "Tina" became a an object that was approximately 3 metres in diameter and 15 metres in length. The object, that at this point was floating just above ground level, resembled an over sized pack of liver sausage. I called Fillipa as a witness to this strange sight and she eventually arrived at the...............
Due to a hideous case of premature publication the above post was issued in mid stream and in an unfinished state. Thankfully, this was spotted by a concerned reader who reported the faux pas. I shall now retrace my steps and pick up from whence it stopped.
...............window, slightly breathless. We remained speechless for several minutes taking in the strange sights before trying in vain to agree on what exactly we were seeing. I, erroneously as it later transpired, stated categorically that the massive airborne object was a radio-controlled balloon. As the recreation ground is bordered by relatively low telephone cables I was beginning to picture a dramatic collision in the offing. After 45 minutes the tube was floating at about 45 degrees at which point both Fillipa and I bravely resisted the need to dip into our pool of crude similes, I can't begin to describe how difficult that proved. Fillipa had to leave at this point in order to start preparing for her forthcoming hostess training exams that were due on Tuesday.
The object by now had reached giddy heights and could be seen no doubt for miles. It was attached to an small man who was dressed from head to toe in waterproof plastic by an almost invisible piece of nylon cord. So it must be a radical new development in kites. I have to admit that I was suddenly gripped by the somewhat uncharitable thought of "So what".
Monday 2 April 2007
She's Free...........
Mr Big Lou has just come bounding in with the news we have all be waiting for, Purdie has finally been freed from the hideous trapping incident in her cat flap. As I rushed round to congratulate her I passed the Wanahokaloogi Kid who was spitting his way down the path as usual. I nodded the obligatory, non-specific, mutually understood, I don't really want to engage you greeting of "All right" and completely out of the blue he stopped spitting and shook his head in an almost theatrical manner. He went to speak but was unfortunately gripped by the urge to spit and passed by without communicating what was troubling him. As I was later to discover he was the present as Purdie had been freed from her entrapment and had been visibly shaken by the event.
I arrived at the infamous cat flap and found it, thankfully, cat-free and with a sense of some foreboding I called our "Purdie" and tapped on the kitchen door. A faint meow was heard from inside followed by a rustle before finally Purdie appeared at the kitchen window. The sight that greeted me physically knocked me back and I recall gasping out loud.
Poor Purdie had been transformed into a completely novel creature comprising of 2 distinct halves. We had all assumed that the best way to extricate Purdie from her cat flap was in the forwards direction, hence the teasing with the piece of ham. However, Purdie had missed the logic of this strategy and spent her time easing herself backwards. By some bizarre, freakish twist of nature this action has forced all of Purdie's slimming to effect only one half of her body, her front half. Whilst she has reduced in size from her midriff to the ends of her front paws, including her head, her back half has remained its original size.
Purdie now has the appearance of a drag racer with her back sloping towards the front at an angle of 32 degrees. There is also a sharp and sadly bald line around her circumference at the point the cat flap held her.
As I stood, slack jawed, reviewing the spectacle, The Master, Fillipa and Mr Big Lou arrived with a celebratory can of tuna in brine and a cheap bottle of Cava. From the expression on my face I think they all sensed, with the exception of Mr Big Lou of course, that all was not well. And, as they followed the line of my gaze, to a man, cat and drag superstar they began laughing. Even the cats whose lack of lips makes laughing practically impossible, fell to the ground in an uncontrollable state of mirth.
Obviously this was too much for the absurdly shaped Purdie who immediately turned heel and carted her over sized rear-end back into the sanctuary of the dining room.
I have since made several attempts to recall her but as yet to no avail.
I arrived at the infamous cat flap and found it, thankfully, cat-free and with a sense of some foreboding I called our "Purdie" and tapped on the kitchen door. A faint meow was heard from inside followed by a rustle before finally Purdie appeared at the kitchen window. The sight that greeted me physically knocked me back and I recall gasping out loud.
Poor Purdie had been transformed into a completely novel creature comprising of 2 distinct halves. We had all assumed that the best way to extricate Purdie from her cat flap was in the forwards direction, hence the teasing with the piece of ham. However, Purdie had missed the logic of this strategy and spent her time easing herself backwards. By some bizarre, freakish twist of nature this action has forced all of Purdie's slimming to effect only one half of her body, her front half. Whilst she has reduced in size from her midriff to the ends of her front paws, including her head, her back half has remained its original size.
Purdie now has the appearance of a drag racer with her back sloping towards the front at an angle of 32 degrees. There is also a sharp and sadly bald line around her circumference at the point the cat flap held her.
As I stood, slack jawed, reviewing the spectacle, The Master, Fillipa and Mr Big Lou arrived with a celebratory can of tuna in brine and a cheap bottle of Cava. From the expression on my face I think they all sensed, with the exception of Mr Big Lou of course, that all was not well. And, as they followed the line of my gaze, to a man, cat and drag superstar they began laughing. Even the cats whose lack of lips makes laughing practically impossible, fell to the ground in an uncontrollable state of mirth.
Obviously this was too much for the absurdly shaped Purdie who immediately turned heel and carted her over sized rear-end back into the sanctuary of the dining room.
I have since made several attempts to recall her but as yet to no avail.
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