We live right beside a secondary school with a gorgeous garden. Of course, our cats assume it’s their garden, and my daughter, who attends this school, has had some interesting experiences spotting familiar little furry figures playing among the shrubs and vines on the boundary. However, these last two weeks or so were sunny and warm. This is not a photo of any of our cats, but I immediately thought of the way they’ve been sprawling out on the lovely green grass, sunbathing to their hearts’ content.
I’ve been quiet recently, but there’s a reason: I’m studying like mad. However, the tissue box cat is worth an interruption. Penny is Micky’s cat. She’s really quite a smart animal, and very fond of tissue boxes. Ever since she was a baby, she loved sleeping on them, and also loved digging the tissues out until they were in a big, comfortable mess. Penny still loves sleeping on tissue boxes, but the effect is… somewhat different (updated with a much better comparison photo ((c¦):
Also, the effect on the box of tissues has changed:
Updated with photos 13 May 2012!
You have to understand South Africa to understand my feelings with regard to street-front houses. Over there, space is plentiful, and it was only in the city centre of Johannesburg that I ever saw houses that weren’t separated from the street by a wide pavement and at least a small front garden. You can imagine my horror when I moved to Ireland to find houses with front doors that opened right onto the street. “Never,” I promised myself. “I will never ever live in a house like that.”
I should mention that I’m sitting here writing this in my front room, at my desk by the window. If there wasn’t glass in the way, I could spit on the pavement. I still have a kind of barrier between me and the world, consisting of happy-looking open, striped boxes on the inside windowsill. One is for needlework stuff, one for stationery, another for electric cords and plugs, one for odds and ends, and two are for cats. Continue reading