I got to Broadstairs the last two Saturdays, the first time to see an exhibition "Oh we do Like to be Beside the Seaside", of photos from a workshop by students at the NYCPE, which included some excellent work curated by Katherine Drane. The sky darkened, however, and I soon had to see shelter under the building at the end of the harbour.
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Ah, Tilda's first pigeon. At least I assume it is hers. She certainly took ownership. Now it is in the abandoned wheelie bin. I shall vacuum the feathers up later.

She is confused - where has it gone?

Yes, Tilda she do cute too. Yes, she do. Yes, she do. Blessum kittum snoogums...


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So today was the day - Marlowe and Tilda have officially been indoors for a month [well, may be not Marlowe], and it's time to start risking the big outdoors ( Read more... )

Last night Marlowe gave me a nip in bed, designating her hungriness. I guess they were underfed as the crunchy bits had all gone, and I'd run out.

Today, however, she did a parrot impression.

From a couple of days back:


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I have spent much of the last week looking for plastic lids to reseal tins with - specifically cat food tins so they don't stink out the fridge. Whilst I was sure Lakeland would have them, Wilkinson's was more convenient and have never let me down yet ( Read more... )

So Marlowe and Tilda spent most of yesterday Looking at me - there's a favoured space at the top of the stairs which allows them to look at me at my desk, or down the stairs to my passing by. There's this disbelieving look - so what are you then? You're not A--. You're not even K-A ( Read more... )

Since mentioning I was going to take possession of a pair of (two-year-old, female, one ginger, one tortoise shell) cats, there have been anxious emails hoping that there would be photographs ( Read more... )

Warning - contains concealed language ( Read more... )

Mice suspected in deadly cat fire



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