Of Swinging Cats and Barber shop quartets
It is a grey dank morning, we have fog, the sort we usually experience in autumn, I can hardly see the trees on the green from my window ledge. My scribe moans about the fact that it is cooler. My senses say the fog blanket is for heat and it well maybe too hot for me later. I suffer with the heat; it is the fault of my wonderful coat you know.
Apparently it is good to talk of your problems. It is wonderful to have an understanding audience, with whom I can share the small troublesome clouds on my horizon, when they waft into my life. My most pressing problem is the fact that the Little Accomplice may return at any moment. She squawked horrendously at intervals, my nerves are quite shot, you will understand. I tried joining in once but was told to stop that noise. It was not me, who started the noise; a never ending rotation of what I can only describe as filling and emptying actions accompanied these sessions. Sometimes the smells were frankly disgusting; I removed myself, my balls, toys etc from its vicinity for fear of contamination. The Little Accomplice found me, of course, fascinating, and would grab at me if I came within striking distance. I stayed well out of her reach; of course, one does not wish to be roughed up.
My trusty scribe says we didn’t have enough room in Tumbledown House to ‘swing a cat’ while everyone was here. I have told her before about swinging cats, it is not on; chasing them however, is fair game. I have to agree that we are short on space and if we are to be invaded by The Little Accomplice on a regular basis, as would seem the case, we need a bigger house to accommodate her adoring tribe of visitors.
One piece of International News has been floating across the Atlantic. Apparently over the weekend there were problems at Las Vegas airport. Rumour has it that a plane load of passengers had accumulated in the custom hall, this is usual I understand; however what was strange was that they were accumulating in small groups and trying to harmonise, in Barber shop quartet fashion. They were all singing the same song about a light-up bear, and hugging. The latest information would suggest that several customs officials have not made it into work this week due to stress.
I am of course
La Grande Sophie
June 9th, 2010 at 2:58 pm
Ah. In these dark times it is nice to know that it is the little things that make people happy.
Maybe more people should have these Little Singing Bears.
June 9th, 2010 at 4:25 pm
Yes I agree but please note one is enough!!!!! LOL LGSx
June 15th, 2010 at 7:56 am
LOl i like it.