Holding BlackLOG

I'm afraid I'm having far too much fun on holiday to

put together a full blog so I will leave you with some

photos and an old blog that most of you probably won't

have seen before.

Mrs B Powder hound

Butter would not melt........

Leaning  tower of Skiers

The Cat, the hairdryer & the big cupboard

Regular sufferers of the BlackLOG will note that McG normally grabs any feline headlines that are going, but not this time as MizzyM (last year's failed attempt to give Mischief a bit more street cred) fights back and gets a complete BlackLOG for herself.

"Get lost McG, this is Mizzy time...."

Any guests who have stayed with us over the years may have noticed the huge cupboard in the main spare room (aside 1), it reminds me of the wardrobe in Narnia, small children and my mother often disappear for hours. While the cats have free reign over most of the house they are banned from the spare rooms, dining room and airing cupboard, which of course makes these the main goal of their lives. Once in the spare room both cats know that if they can make it into the cupboard they have reached sanctuary and can stay there for as long as they like …

As I came up the stairs the other day I caught sight of a little black tail vanishing through the spare room door. I called out to her to stop and rushed up to try and prevent MizzyM breaking into the cupboard. Alas, I was too late and I could hear her mewing the feline version of "Nah, na, nah, na, na" which got my heckles up. I decided drastic action was required. There are three sounds in life that are guaranteed to shift 99% of all known cats: hairdryers; hoovers; and lawn mowers. I grabbed Mrs B's hairdryer (lets face it, it’s been a while since I needed one) and entered the cupboard. I gave MizzyM fair warning and then turned on the appliance. After five minutes worth of waving it around, nothing. I decided that it was time to step up the action so went down stairs to grab the Hoover. Again I gave fair warning “Step away from the cupboard, this is your last chance.” A few minutes worth of hoovering and with my ears beginning to ring, nothing. I contemplated getting the Lawnmower, but the thought of having to explain to Mrs B why there were huge chunks missing out of the carpet did not bare thinking about. Rather dejectedly, I admitted defeat and made my way downstairs. To be welcomed by a certain black cat, who sat nonchalantly licking parts of herself that no polite Blog should ever have to mention. The little minx was wearing one of those “Don’t mess with me” expressions and purring like a well-maintained engine. As she swung around and made a slinky exit I’m sure I caught sight of some ear muffs……..

The "Don't mess with me" look

Apologies to C.S.Lewis that I should dare to sully the name of one of his books by parodying it in the title of this week's BlackLOG . I suspect he is on a fast spin cycle at the Holy Trinity Church, Oxford as I type.

























.
(1) We have three spare rooms. The main one is used for guests and has the big cupboard for storing everything that won’t fit in the garages, loft or Shed. It is looked after by Mrs B and thus tidy and fit for visitors. The music room (containing Cd's and DVD’s) and the Study (containing things that overspill from the music room) are my responsibility and thus untidy and out of bounds to visitors, by order of Mrs B. On the occasions that we have to use the second spare room, Mrs B dispatches me to tidy up the music room. A couple of days later I emerge blinking into the daylight. This coincides with the study running at 150% capacity; you can almost see the walls bowing out…

(Return to text)