V pleased to hear of the Fishly-Dunnocks’ safe arrival. Happy flumping (and beer).
Here, it’s all gone a bit Groundhoggish. Getting back to the point where me knitting went wrong the first time, and also preparing a batch of ABCDs, a fair few having been manufactured in the last week already. Cat-sitting friend is, it turns out, cutting out the sugar for a couple of weeks, so the cake I intended to make would not have been terribly welcome. Plan [a]B[cd] it is, then.
Happy conferencing 
How is yon Twellers faring? Better, I hope
Getting there … so long as I can persuade her to behave (as per Doc’s orders - NOT as per The Cat!), she should be fine for the week-end travelling and subsequent eventings 
You could have called !!
Gusly fingers firmly crossed for that, Dere. That Cat should be gently suppressed (and so should this one).
Blimey. Armers, have you been sent to the nuns? I suppose it was only a matter of time, but didn’t like to say anything…
I am just waiting for the pills to kick in and will be fine for the weekend
Gus
How do you suppress your Bengals?
I have never been able to suppress the joie de vivre that is a part of the Bengals make up
Mainly by not having a Bengal, dahlink. A B&W moggy is what I have and he is quite enough cat to be going on with. He has no dignity. He evinced pleasure at my return in most uncatly fashion, and since then has done: determined snuggling; creeping under the duvet in a ‘nearer my Gus to thee’ fashion; and throwing himself under my feet on the stairs. If I am silent for 36 hours on here, you can all assume that he has broken my neck and alert the appropriate authorities, so the poor fellow a) doesn’t starve, and b) doesn’t get to the point where he works out I am made of Meat…
You know what? I could cry.
ABCDs achieved, cooled, and arranged most poncily in overlapping circles in a little cake tin. Popped over to friend’s house to put them in her kitchen, and managed to miss the counter edge and drop them. Circles all over the place, many biscuits fractured. Ach well, I suppose they will taste the same.
But bugrit anyway. Bah!
Life unfair to Gus!
Now, about those broken ABCDs…
Gus
Are you sure you are not my twin?
Sympathy for a fellow cook with last minute clumsy episodes
Can’t be entirely sure I am not, but Peggy (the Ma) often said that if I had been twins she would have left home (I was an appallingly horrible baby). How things don’t change, eh?
Gxxxx
And Twellsy, dere, please work very hard on Getting Better.
Gus I am well used to having infections and I cannot overdo things as any effort results in a koffing wheezing attack so I to sit and be bored
Perhaps I should be trying to go indoors out of the mist we have been having but I just love being outdoors
Mildew vs face powder: it’s a difficult call - particularly if one has a natural tendency toward the pinkish red, as I do. A touch of green can be very becoming…
Why do they even make a 7am? Nobody wants it.
and fevvery hugs for That Chatelaine.
Indeed, no. Later hours when one inadvertently pours orange juice onto one’s teabag are a bit rubbish too. That is the voice of (very) recent experience speaking, you understand.
Just had a brief but vigorous border skirmish with the cat, the territory under dispute being Me. He was definitely taken away from his mother far too early…
Aaaw he loves his Mummy Gus
Dear chatelaine I am with you in spirit if not in person so consider yourself hugged and handed fresh dainty embroidered linen handkerchiefs as you need
I am so sorry you have lost your brother so soon
