After a heavy day yesterday ( out visiting and no time for extended sleeping ) followed by a long walk in the heat of the morning , with further irritations in the shape of the gathering crowds in the village all wanting to make a fuss of the rescue greyhound looking so hot and forlorn , Alice is in no mood for anything but getting home and back to her Bonio and Bed .

As we cross the road an exuberant woman of a certain age scoops up an ebullient looking if somewhat overweight chihuaua with bulging eyes , clutching him to her bosom and shouting in a jolly Geordie accent " Better pick him up in case He thinks he's a Rabbit " .

This takes me a while to decipher but when I do I burst out laughing . The very idea that Alice would chase anything , but anything , on such a day as this . She glances at me and slouches on with her lolloping gait . We arrive home and she parks up on the wood floor in the doorway , too hot to make it to the first floor .

101 Uses for a Man ?

Men are so amazing ...... indeed I have a few additions to the 101 uses for a man listed in the Times this morning which made me laugh out loud . I'm thinking secifically of points 29 and 32 here though I'm sure others will tickle your fancy . 101 uses for a man - Times Online .
Only last week D had offered to change his lifelong subscription to The Times in favour of the daily newspaper of my choice after more carping from me about political bias , and now here I am , once again Hoist by my own Petard and posting from Times Online .

Ms CatCalls Grapples with Ebay ...

... any takers for an old treadle sewing machine complete with Dust and Dangling threads . In good working order .... damaged veneer.
Let Buyer Beware .

Right , having practised here , lets tackle ebay ....

Toby struggles with the colour wheel

....and before too long Alice joins in . Neither of them are as confused as I am .

Yesterday was stiflingly hot , not a breath of air .

I spend the morning juggling CatCalls , catching up at the DayJob , and then , as two pm beckons , we can no longer postpone the moment when we must enter the world of the carpet swatches . Buzzing insistently at the back of my mind since early Spring when the bright sunshine shows the harsh stains in sharp relief ( there are around fifteen puddle -pools which cannot be disguised), and scheduled for last weekend but balked at the the last minute , it cannot be shirked again .

We head for town and the empire of the two ladies . Twins who have fixed us up on many occasions in the past , they listen , they assess, they show and they move you through the world of the carpet as quickly as is humanely possible . They sense when a customer wishes to be elsewhere . Thus we are leaving with an appointment for measuring in two days and a large wheel of colours and some loose carpet squares tucked under our arms . The relief is palpable .

When we speak to Lady One of Pet Indiscretions they share their own experience the previous evening of High Jinks with their two dogs and a spilled can of coke on their own carpet .

We receive some useful advice , involving cold water ,hot water will set the stain , and standing on the stain with a tea towel ( never hot water and never
rubbing in circles as this removes the twist of the pile. Apparently . So these are the ways in which we have been Going Wrong . Besides having a nervous greyhound with separation anxiety that is ....Who no doubt will redevelop it once the carpet is refitted . )

I stare later at the wheels of colour long after the light has faded , in a rainstorm , and flip between this and that .

Later in my dreams I am visiting the house of a stranger and note that they have a blue carpet with a pale yellow and cream wall . ( Perhaps this is thus possible in the room that has become D s office ? Though I had thought I had settled on a neutral for both rooms ..... ) Oh , who cares ? Who indeed ?

Me and Ms BowTie

The key works its magic smoothly this afternoon as I step into the pristine hallway and I slip my FitFlops off on the coir matting as I come in out of the storm not wanting to leave a wet footprint on the off white carpet as I proceed . Ms Bow Tie is sitting quizzically in the inner hall watching me and she greets me rather more effusively than usual . Hello ? I say to her and look for her pal who is nowhere to be seen . As I peek round doors noting the absence of ginger hairs I realise that there is a distinct absence of Ms GingerNut ( the only female ginger cat I have ever met , and large enough to be a tomcat at that ) ... Where's Ginge then ? I ask and Ms BT tilts her head to one side and points in the direction of the kitchen . We head in there but alas she is merely hinting that a food bowl needs washing and replenishing and thereafter a Full Search can properly be mounted .
I note the absence too of a litter tray and wonder if Mr has left in a rush , which has been known . My heart misses a beat as I note the car in the drive , perhaps he is still in situ upstairs, perhaps resting quietly before a flight or a difficult meeting .... now that would be Tricky , especially as I am taking his cats' names in vain . Seems unlikely however , the silence and the ticking of the clock and the sheer peace and quiet are blissfully overwhelming .

And the tidiness , and the air of order .... but where is the litter tray , and the second cat ? They must be found . It is imperative . No use a tidy house if the cat must leave her mark in the bathtub , say , or worse should the bathrooms all be out of bounds , on the off white carpets . My stain removal techniques are second to non but are more accustomed to the pale blue we favour chez nous . ( and indeed are somewhat out of practice since D took over in that dept ) .

I step through the sitting room and open the patio doors and out into the garden , sans Fit Flops , having left them at the front door . Things are awash , thanks to the storm , so I pick my way across the lawn to the garage in search of The Things I Need and as I enter , a streak flashes past me and there , in front of me is a litter tray ! Bingo !

I feel thoroughly competent , trusted , left in charge in the manner of an upmarket Personal Assistant , or perhaps an efficient Housekeeper ( perhaps with a postmodern title , unimaginable to the likes of me, a mere CatCaller ) .
Mr had not left in a rush and forgotten the cats business , he had merely anticipated my arrival bang on time , knowing that I would see the need and fulfil it even before the cat did . There was no sense in which the cat had legs crossed , indeed she ate a languid supper before strolling out onto the lawn to sniff about preferring the outside facilities to the emergency ones provided by myself for later use . What a cat ! What a team !

I wait until the cats decide whether they wish to stay in or brave the impending rain ( the chose In ) so I inform them of my ETA tomorrow . They turn tail and saunter upstairs and I overtake them to close the master bedroom door . I am fairly certain there must be a rule about that particular white duvet cover though the remaining rooms are fair game . If not a rule I am inventing one . That after all is what good CatCallers are all about .

I return home and scrutinise my own Reception Rooms Carpets . It is time some of them went . A discussion ensues about Rules regarding Drinks , should new carpets be purchased . I think we have reached agreement .

Cats , Burials , Pigeon Babies and a Walled Garden

I slept in today .

Coffee was not brewing until seven am . I read Pat Conroy for fifteen minutes from six forty five and watched the sleeping form of D .

He looks Angelic .

Alice was under my dressing gown , sighing heavily at the pillow end , clearly hoping like me that if we stared and sighed hard enough he would go and she would be able to hang onto the gown-as-blanket ( makes a change from Blanket-as-Name which we have become accustomed to from the death of Michael Jackson news . Why are all his children called much the same name ? Why is his female child given a male name too ? It beats me as my Grandma would have said ) .

No such luck ...... he slept on , and at seven , up I got and brewed up , though I did leave Alice the blanket . Who needs a dressing gown in these soaring temperatures when its so hot I have to sleep on top of the bed ( at the foot end ) and with a fan blasting most nights .

D did however have grand plans of his own , and disappeared to prepare Alice s breakfast and then back to bed with his own second coffee etc . But an early alert requesting assistance to take a carless neighbour on a mercy mission to the vet s in a nearby town put a stop to all that . After some brief negociations he realises things are serious and the poor old cat is probably on his last journey . Indeed he is later assisting at the burial .

We take ourselves off to the country for solace and coffee and discover a new walled garden concealing a splendid coffee shop .

Everything is cream , palest green and dairy . A large poster informs that we are near Hartburn , where I once stayed many years ago and we set out in search of the house .

And there it is , beyond the churchyard , through a little gate , overgrown now with bushes and trees . I try to take photographs , wondering how closely I resemble a burglar should anyone be watching .

The woman delivering leaflets or church magazines seems unperturbed by my curiosity though and calls a friendly hello .

A man who has parked next to me asks if the silver bracelet on the ground is mine ... it seems if I am up to no good I am dropping clues all over the place .

I peer in past the car parked through the gates and wonder if the croquet lawn is still functional , recalling our summer time there . Today is overcast and damp , a fog hanging over the graves .

The back of the house which I remembered opening into an old fashioned courtyard with high walls has been opened out (below).

Gratifying that in some thirty years the front of the house has not changed one iota .

Another pigeon baby has landed in Deb's garden . After three hourly feeding sessions and valiant attempts to keep her four legged Fiends ( the furry purring variety ) at bay she finally called in a rescue organisation and the pigeon baby , named Scrimshaw , has been removed to Sanctuary . They continue to care for Squiblets ( a larger baby pigeon who landed last weekend ) who is big enough to be ignored by the cats and has the advantage of being beak fed by an adult pigeon to boot .

What Larks !

This Week

What a week .

Sunday : Alice enjoys blocking the doorway in Lui s whilst we have Father's Day breakfast . Most of the punters take this in their stride , accustomed at they are to the dog friendly policy and many stop to greet her and offer her a friendly word and pat but eventually she is asked to shift along by one of the waiters who is disgruntled with her complete inertia and unwillingness to so much as draw in a paw as he passes . I can sympathise , feeling much the same at home as I pass carrying a plate or a load of washing and having to step over her whilst she lies in state .

We feel chastened ( slightly ) and attempt to co operate , pushing her into place but we are largely unsuccesful . I for one slightly relish the feeling of being an Awkward Customer . Having always had a perfectly behaved and well socialised child here I have a dog who thumbs its nose at the world and its rules and here I am wondering if the irritable waiter has simply had a bad pint as generally everyone in Lui s emulates Alice and so far as I can see all dogs and children ( not , I should add necessarily in that order . )

The rest of the day is spent logged onto the soothing Hencam.co.uk ,Hencam.co.uk - More chickens than you can shake a webcam at! Web cam hen-terta much needed for my sanity .

The low level cluckings restore my equilibrium as I read an extensive court bundle which takes up seven and a half hours of a scorching Sunday . At one point I leave the floor and take a break sorting some laundry upstairs . From the stairwell I hear an outbreak of squawking and flapping and D calls out in a rare fit of irritation .( It would be unfitting of me to suggest that he sounds not unlike a broody hen himself at this juncture. And besides he reads this occasionally . I shall therefore keep my counsel . ) He is not a fan of Hencam . Neither I should add is Nat , and her irritation increases as the day goes on and I find myself inexplicably imitating the hens . When I describe and demonstrate this later in the week to my friend Debbie she concurs that this would not sit well with her either .

Neither it would seem is Toby ( a fan of Hencam ) , our Boy Birman, who is not the bravest and wakes up to hear the commotion Too Close for comfort and coming from the silver box near his left ear . He is Aghast .

Though tries hard to maintain his composure .

Monday involves much dashing about attempting to fix the car .

A nippy courtesy car is provided by D's garage for me , as my mobile mechanic is not available .

I continue to read court bundles , which arrive at the office at a rate of knots .

I feed cats , trying to help them decide whether they want to be in or out as the heavens open and as I wrote notes informing their family that they are in , they decide to go out . Then as I change the note , one wants to be in and one out . then they want to change their minds again . Nightmare . How I love my CatCalling . I try to predict whether the rainstorm will let up and when in fact the family will return ?

I return home and read on .

I am engrossed in finishing Human Traces by Sebastian Faulkes when I am not reading for the Day Job and suddenly , it is done . Over ! I hate the end of such a huge impressive book . Now what .

5am Tuesday I am staring into space . No cats to feed this morning except my own and now no book to read .

I stare at my pile ..... I try Beach Music by Pat Conroy and within minutes am engrossed in this amazing tome .

A morning at the Day Job and assessments and I am collecting my car and paying a hefty bill and preparing myself for a court appearance the following day .

Wednesday passes in a haze of barristers , judges and so forth .

I arrive home to find Pearl our senior Birman Missing and the house in Uproar . D and the Dog are patrolling the streets . As are several of the neighbours . I fear for D and the possibility of nervous collapse as it transpires he has temporarily taken his eye off the ball and left the back door open without noting where P is situated . We all do it . Three of our cats safely go into the back yard and potter safely . They scratch about out there like hens whilst the pigsters are in their outdoor run . D himself is in and out hobbying with his plants and flowers and tomatoes and cucumbers ( he has two ) and so forth . Pearl is generally asleep but occasionally she likes to nip out and then she beetles off , straight over the wall and into the lane where she is in danger ( in our opinion ) due to her complete deafness .

I am fired with adrenalin after my day and itching to talk but we must find Pearl . Alice has picked up D s tension and is dancing about like a mad thing . Clare from next door reports a sighting of Pearl on a roof top . I go into the back and three neighbours are lined up shielding their eyes and looking skywards . I think fleetingly of my camera . Pearl is a distant figure , squeaking plaintively . I instruct D that he may need to go over the walls to get her , rather than trying to find out which house the roof belongs to .

She is soon recovered and produces a small wee on the upstairs landing carpet by way of gratitude for the rescue .

D and Alice begin to settle .

Tursday is delightful peaceful by contrast .

And now Friday , the breaking news that Michael Jackson is dead . What are we to make of that ?