What is Hot?

A seemingly simple question, however the way my Blob has been carrying on this weekend, you would assume that she hadn't quite worked it out!

• Pan handles left over a burning gas ring are hot.
• The cast iron door handle on the woodburner when its burning is hot.
• The water out of the kettle when it has boiled is hot.
• Lead free solder when touched by a soldering iron is very very hot.
• Metal zips straight out of the drying cycle are hot.

Blob must have forgotten however she is now well aware of all the above! Any one who remotely cares about Blob should perhaps not think too hard about this - but she wants me to tell you that she is ok and that Blisters show character - or is that scars - or perhaps tattoos?

It appears that she can't remember what Blisters show exactly. I would hazard a guess that Blisters show a degree of absent mindedness, carelessness, an inability to focus on the task in hand - or perhaps early onset dementia.

Looking at her mother I would suggest that the latter is probably the most likely.

Blob wants it known that Colin Firth in wet jodphurs is also hot, but lets face it, if she ever gets close enough to Colin Firth with or without the wet jodphurs to actually burn herself then Ill eat that rubbish cat food from Asda she bought and then had to donate to Cats Protection.

Bed time now because I lost an hour last night and am likely to be tired and sleepy until the clocks go back in October.

Bob

A Long Weekend

Today is Thursday and Blob has had a long day. She came home at 9.00 this evening too tired even to be bad tempered. To be fair she had gone to a works do after work, which involved betting on filmed races and eating fish and chips. It was for charity so Blob didn't begrudge the time, but she is eminently relieved that she is not working tomorrow.

Not that she can lounge about in bed all day like a loungy about in bed type of person because she has plans that involve emptying the shed, fixing the swing seat, and sweeping the patio. It also involves tidying up the herbs, getting down and dirty in her compost bin, working out where in the tiniest garden in the world she will be putting her potato bags and carrot sacks. Then she wants to go to Homebase in the 15% off session this weekend for some seedings, normal compost to dilute her extremely rich compost complete with egg shells and tomato seeds, and perhaps a barbeque seeing as the cold weather over winter shattered her chiminea.

All of this, plus the usual tidying, hoovering and general housework that needs to be accomplished during the weekend and a fun afternoon out on Sunday doing a treasure hunt at Chessington World of Adventures.

She has teamed up with three pals from work, and they are calling their team the Grumpy Old Women, although Blob did suggest they called themselves 'Hot Babes on Tour' but seeing as she is younger by the others by at least 10 years (although you wouldn't know it to look at her - especially when her back is bad!) she was shouted down by the Grumpy Old Women and that is what they will be called.

So she is going to bed with a smile on her face and a hypothetical bounce in her step - hypothetical because she has been wearing heels all day and has no bounce left in her step or anywhere else for that matter.

And i particularly love a long weekend - I get to wake her up; I get to rummage about in the flower bed and the shed; I get to get in her way when she's wielding a soldering iron; I get to wait til she has mopped the floor and then drop my food on it, and sit on her clean laundry after i've been tramping about on her chamomile/mud lawn.

Hooray for long weekends, hooray for Blob and most of all, hooray for me.

Bob.

A Riddle

What do you get when you have taken all the weeds and moss out of a chamomile lawn?

That's what Blob has been doing today. Hours of concentration, back ache, muddy knees, torn fingernails, and a couple of nasty cuts and Blob has removed nearly all the moss and all the weeds from her precious chamomile lawn.

In her favour, it has been a hard winter which probably hasn't done any gardens any good, but it was with a somewhat woeful expression that she finally finished, loaded the car with weeds and prunings for the dump and then stood back to admire her work.

So the answer to 'What do you get when you have taken all the weeds and moss out of a chamomile lawn?'

'MUD!'

Bob.

Saturday Nights for Fighting ...

Well it used to be.

Not any more. No, Saturday Nights are now for slobbing out in front of the telly, eating ice cream and basking in the heat of the woodburner. They are also apparently for dying hair (not mine I hasten to add!) painting toe nails (again not mine thankfully) and deciding what sort of potatoes should be planted for the autumn. Blob wants to try pink fir apples again despite the fact they have a low yield -

"Nutty and Creamy" Blob says,

"So what!" I say, "Put some more coal on the fire if you don't mind, and stop drooling over a somewhat blond and pretty Nicholas Nickleby"

"Christopher Plummer ain't bad either" says Blob ignoring my requests for more heat. I could die of hypothermia whilst she sits there lusting over Dickens dramatisations.

She was lusting over Mr Darcy earlier today in the Pride and Prejudice adaptation with Kiera Nightdress or what ever her name is, although she is the first to admit that this Mr Darcy was nothing when compared to Colin Firth in wet jodphurs!

"And why is there no Casualty on tonight?" she complains

"And why is there still no more coal on the fire?" I complain

We appear to have turned ignoring each other into a fine art.

She now needs to go and wash the dye out of her hair - to night she is going chestnut.

"That's ginger in layman's terms isn't it?" I mutter as she leaves the room,

"No - not ginger - chestnut like horses!" she yells as she goes up stairs.

"Ginger!" I mumble to myself whilst I snigger into my paws.

She'll be down in about half an hour looking damp and ginger!

Best I get some kip before hand so I have the energy to laugh.

Bob

Nearly Springtime at Wisley

Blob went to Wisley on Monday afternoon. Her Aunty very kindly got her a membership so she can go whenever she wants. I have to point out that she doesn't take me but if she did it would mean a reduction in my sleeping hours which would not be a good thing!

Anyway, its not quite spring yet, but Blob was very impressed with the crocus blanket. So impressed that she took a video of it.

She also likes the Wild Garden and commented that at this time of year it seems wilder than at other times despite the fact there is little much less foliage. She took a video of a very wild looking tree.

It appears that there is more than one type of tree. There are deciduous and evergreens. The deciduous ones get naked in the winter. Heres a picture of one that in the autumn looks like its on fire because of the glorious colour the leaves go. Now however, it is very naked indeed, but Blob reckons that there is something particularly beautiful about naked trees. (No accounting for taste I suppose).

The other sort, the evergreens, are ones that keep their greenery all year. I know about those because there are some opposite my house. The best thing about evergreens is that little birds called 'FireCrest's' live in them. Heres a picture of a FireCrest.

I know that Blob likes birds so i brought her one of these. She wasn't as happy as she could have been and ranted for a bit because apparently they are protected ... not sure what protected means but it put up a damn fine fight before i laid it reverently on her pillow.

I was a bit surprised at her reaction because she used to have a bird. It was a big one called Barnabus and it was about six years ago that Barnabus went quiet. I think she should have fed him to me, but she didn't. She put him in the freezer. (She didn't put the FireCrest in the freezer.) Then one day she took it's little frozen body to her sisters where they planted a witchhazel over it. Witchhazel is a shrubby tree and I only mention it because there was a pretty one in flower at Wisley. So pretty that she took another picture. This one is in memory of Barnabus.

I wonder what she'll do with me when i pop my clogs. If i keep up my sleep marathons, i could die in front of the fire and she wouldn't notice for a week or so. That could be an amusing end!

Talking of dead cats - heres a picture of a cat she found in the Alpine garden hot house. It might have been dead because it didn't move when she moved in for a photo. Apparently its name is Sunny and it lives at Wisley. I wouldn't mind sleeping in a greenhouse all day - I wonder if they have any vacancies?

Must send off for an application form.


Bob

More Big Cats!

Its getting worse - she has been playing on the internet and discovered the second biggest domestic cat.

Surprisingly enough its not me!

We are now looking at pictures of Norwegian Forest Cats.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Norwegian_Forest_Cat

I have no idea what is going through her mind at the moment - I mean, who would want to live with a cat that looks like this:

She can look all she wants, I have no problem with her window shopping.

As long as its me that gets to follow her about, trip her up, wipe my feet on her laundry, and take over two thirds of the bed every night.

Like I said, not on my watch!

Bob

Big Cats!

Yesterday Blob who feeds me, went to Shoreham by sea to visit her Godmother Jacky and her Auntie - the one who has nearly bought a bungalow.

There were three car accidents on the way and it took her nearly three hours to drive the 48 miles. Nightmare.

Anyway, whilst there Blob explained that although I am a big cat, there are bigger cats out there, and we are not talking about escaped tigers or the Surrey Puma. There is a breed of cat called Maine Coon (here's a link to Wikipedia http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maine_Coon). The Maine Coon is one of the oldest breeds in North America.

Heres a picture of one which shows you how big they are!

Blob thinks that she wants one. Well I have only one thing to say about that ....

....Not on my watch!

Bob.