Hens can Fly

While the boys dig for worms and the teens do camping in the fields , we teach Joan and her entourage about Jumping for Dandelions . Hens are so soothing .

Is yours a Bottom Feed ?

Selling things on ebay is harder than you ( or rather I ) think ...

For a few days , nothing happens . And with my short attention span - so short in fact that yesterday Nat asks me to drop her at her friends in a few minutes time and whilst she goes up to collect her bag I have forgotton and start to boil myself two of Auntie Laura's hens' lovely eggs for my breakfast , and Nat comes back down , sits down , looks at me and says , ok , right then , we can go later . And doesnt point out that it was me who asked her to get off to her friends earlier so that they would be back quicker and we could all get off to for the camping trip quicker ( so I could get back in time for the evening round of CatCalls ... one cat , but still ... one odesnt like to keep a cat waiting )

So , it is with some surprise that I read an e mail asking me " is it still working " .

Working ? I think ? Is what working and it takes a few minutes for the penny to drop .

But it gets worse .

A day later the questions become more insistent and altogether more complex . Beyond me , in fact .

" Is your bottom feed a reel or a shuttle ? "

I confess I looked at that one for a couple of minutes , shut it down , re opened .

No , it was still there .

I read it out to D . And as men do , on occasion , despite knowing as little as I do about bottom feeds , he tried to problem solve .

" Is it worth taking it apart and looking at the bottom feed and seeing if its a reel or a shuttle "

I gave him what I hoped he would recognise as a withering look .

" Thats a bit like saying " Shall I lift your bonnet and we will see if your bottom feed is a shuttle or a reel " I say . Neither of us would have a clue what we are looking for . We could be there all day . Frankly I'd rather not . "

He retreats with a slightly pained expression and googles Bottom Feed ( I expect ) .

Meanwhile I reflect back to the last time I used a sewing machine , to make several pairs of curtains in a Laura Ashley fabric , when I recall using Laura's electric sewing machine . I distinctly recall a loud bang and a blue flash and the power pack parting company from the machine but I cant remember where I went wrong . Laura was an excellent sewer . She was also very patient . I was neither .

I email her asking about Bottom Feeds and she sends a little email back explaining . Soon all is clear . It is that thing I would call the spool . So simple . Bottom Feed indeed .

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 .