The lost document

Mum says she loves technology –  when it works. I agree, the AGA dragon is a wonderful thing. It keeps my delicate frame warm and soothed, cooks up chicken till its soft and succulent for my wee gums,  steams her washing dry, giving me a kitty sauna on the top and she still has plenty of heat left to create hot water for keeping my dishes clean.

She meant ‘the grey box’ she calls laptop. Silly woman, I am her lap topping. Thats why I learnt where her Off button is. If she pays the box too much attention I go to the box’s far corner and step on the button. She gives a strangled squawk at that point, muttering about saving the world or something.

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This is Patch. He lurks. He needs a good hissing at. He has a different sort of box.

This ‘saving’ is also good when it works apparently. Last weeks blog was eaten by a gremlin I hear. I guess thats some other sort of dragon? She was writing about Mother’s Day and how it was blighted by being woken too early because of daylight saving time changing to summer time. Its all crackers if you ask me. How can humans change time? Its the sun that does the light changes, anyone knows that. It grows sunnier and stronger as the summer comes and my breakfast comes earlier too since they can’t sleep for the light. Its all good to me.

Its so warm now I have actually ventured into the Outside to have a nibble of grass. Thats no mean feat in this place. Apart from the effort to leave the dragon’s hearth, which is a very suitable perch for my elderly bones, finding grass is quite tricky since the driveway was coated with black stuff. All the mucky mud, gravel, stones, pipes and concrete lumps from the drive were dumped by the workmen onto Her favourite meadow area. Dad has been slowly clearing it, but the only grass thats easy to find now is up in her polytunnel and thats where the kittens hang out. Jimi-cat hangs in there too, that is he snores away on a rack by her hammock. The kittens are much scarier. They turn up in the most unexpected places, like on the ceiling,

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Spots – On the ceiling!

hunting cheepers and squeakers. They stand in the doorway and expect me to go past them without a hiss.

Wherever I go, they are there, the young upstarts. I am beginning to think they are staying. Its been 5 months now. I am used to seeing other cats coming and going, usually stuck into baskets and popped into the cattery where they don’t bother me too much. These boys though are still in my house and all over my garden!

They keep bringing squeakers indoors too. Sometimes Mum takes the voles and shrews off them but often its too late as the entertainment value is gone out of them. I know they are not gifts for me as Patch puts them in his own dinner bowl once they are still enough. Give me tuna any day. And Mum, stop calling me “fish-breath”. I only had 1/2 a tin.

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I do not have to like you kittens – this is my killer stare

I did notice, when I was in the polytunnel, that the thrashers have hatched. I wonder when the kittens will start fetching those in? These are the creatures you call tadpoles, they turn into frog princes I believe. There are an awful lot of them. We will need to find a lot of princesses for them. Mum wasn’t clear on how they change from frog to prince. She said thats storytelling magic. Perhaps Grandpa’s magic ointment is part of it. I will give you the recipe for that next week, as Dad is going to make some more and this time let Mum take some action shots. Its fun living with a magician and a storyteller, never a dull moment here.

Love from Tiddler x

 

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