Its Me

Yes I thought I would pass by and say hello. I am working on a cunning plan, only I am working on it very slowly, as I have never been one for rushing about on the grounds it is not good for you. Now that I am old and battered I can't rush anyway, but the fact I am old and battered does tend to prove not rushing about is not a bad thing. Anyway I am in the process of writing a book, I have so far written two, one of which has been proofread and the other is in the process of being proofread. I am also drawing images for a friend who is writing the second book in a series about a cat. So as you can see I am a busy chap

This is one of the pictures I drew, but it was not suitable, and it does have a few issues so there is a second version of it for the book about the cat which will be tweaked to look posh and hide any mistakes (the images not the book).. I never mind too much. One other interesting thing I have done today is make a tall marble run. I bought the thing to keep my youngest grandson amused ages ago, only he has not seen it yet, however it keeps me amused from time to time, and is an entirely stress free pastime 

 

The Continuing quest to draw more and slowly improve.

 A friend is writing a book as friends are inclined to do and so I am drawing s couple of pictures for it as I do like drawing stuff and I am slowly getting the hang of the new fine line pens. They are rather good as they work well with watercolour paints too. I am also drawing rocks and am about half way through one that I think is going rather well. My first one was a bit of an experiment but I decided that the idea has legs . . . . unlike the rocks.

So here we have two more drawing one a cat and the other rocks. I will post the latest rocks image later once I finish it assuming it does not go completely wrong. One small problem with fine line pens is there is no going backwards once you draw a line that line is there for good.

An Update of an Ever Unreliable Diary about Stuff

MMMMmmmm Hello yes I know it’s 2020, how did that happen. Well as you know our cat Sooty had a terrible accident and that was the last post. Since then many things have happened. From Boris Johnson becoming the new British Prime Minister and then winning an election. From a personal point of view I think this will not be good, but who am I to know; I’m just a chap keeping a low profile in a world that us humans are and have made slightly worse than it was before we arrived. Although that is entirely subjective depending on your view point. Dodos however think humans are terrible things, or they did before we ate them all.

Right back to the point we have also gained a new cat something we said we were not planning to do. What we decided was we would not look for a cat, but if a cat found us we would look after it. And sure enough as a direct result of our favourite vet we ended up with another black cat which we have now called Snowy. We were told it was about 5 but we suspect it may be nearer 10. It is certainly very quiet and chilled and does like a good sleep and is often in bed till about ten thirty in the morning.

We have had a couple of trips to hospital and the Ghost Writers wife is due to have a new all singing and dancing hip in a few weeks.

There is a tiny leak in the workshop and also the summerhouse, the result of a rather wet winter, but these can’t be fixed until the rain stops. I have a feeling that it will not be long until something rather profound happens on the planet that will have folk saying . . . . . . . WHAT . . . . How did that happen . . . .

I don’t know what this will be or when but I do think it will be sooner rather than later. However as I have already said I am just a chap and know nothing.

Right that’s it I’m off now. Not sure when I will return, but if something profound happens I’ll be here saying    . . . . I told you so and being all snug while fending off an Alien, Zombie or squid with a pointy stick.

Sooty the Cat

It has not been a good September. Very sadly our black cat Sooty had to be put down after an accident with the car at the beginning of the month. He was a mad beast and for reasons I still don’t know got trapped under a wheel. We were reversing at the time very very slowly and he had been watching us as we did so, but then decided to go back under the car. He was totally deaf and had already been through about 20 lives. We rushed him to the vet who gave him strong painkillers, although I think he was in shock more than pain. But after an X ray it was clear it was best to have him put to sleep.

We have had many cats over the years but Sooty was one of the special ones. Anyway we have decided that we will not have any more cats for now as both of us are getting old and knackered and both have some health issues these days.

Sooty had turned up as a stray kitten 9 years ago and probably would not have survived had we not fed him and got him to the vets back then. So we know that he did have a great life it is just sad it was not a bit longer.

The Death of Harry the Cat

Last time I wrote something I mentioned that Harry the Cat was very poorly. Well sadly he had to go off to the vets on Monday for a one way trip to see the Big Cat God in the Sky. It was sad but the vets we use have this amazing vet from the US called Geoff and so Harry had a very chilled time and was very relaxed in his last moments alive. The thing that finally made us take this path was that Harry had basically run out of steam, he could hardly walk and although managing to eat small amounts of food and his beloved Squirty Cream he was struggling. And I guess as pet owners most of our lives we kind of knew poor old Harry had reached that point.

But over the fifteen years we owned Harry (I say owned, he was a cat) I can safely say he has been the most aggressive, demanding and cantankerous cat we have ever had. In his heyday he would attack the public passing the house, chase dogs regardless of size or breed, destroy furniture and clothing.  And scare the vets. Much of his life he had issues with eating large meals so ate small amounts between 5 and 8 times a day and hated having to wait. Our other cat Sooty is a lot smaller and agile and so would spend many hours on worktops or in trees or hiding in the garden while Harry patrolled his domain growling sometimes at nothing.

During Harry’s last week Sooty had also stopped eating, but after we buried Harry on Monday evening Sooty has been fine. We still don’t see him much he is an outdoor cat and spends many an hour or two in the field next to us hunting mice. Harry was a great hunter but is was a case of catch kill and eat. Sooty seems far more interested in the chase and once he catches something tends to get bored and wanders off so most of his catches get to escape to tell their mates to avoid the black cat.

Well that’s about it for today. So Farewell Harry you were certainly a cat with character who folk turned their back on at their own risk.

Harry the Cat (also known as Heavy Harry)

A Catalogue of Excuses and other reasons this diary is Slightly Erratic.

Have you wondered where I have been  . . . . What do you mean NO. . . Right I am going to assume you mean YES or this whole diary entry would be futile and we don’t want that do we . . . . What do you mean YES . . . I am assuming you mean NO and have just got a bit confused. Folk often get confused reading my diary although I don’t know why.

Right here in Britain it has been hot, really hot. SO hot in fact that a chap who likes to write his diary might go delirious and forget. YES it was that hot here (well almost 35c - ish). And I have been making the workshop so was busy when I was not delirious. Then to add to this I was abducted by Aliens who were planning to do tests on me until I suggested they read my diary. They let me go then saying I was obviously a faulty model and they would find a better human to chop up (sorry experiment on). 

Then rather sadly our cat (The Grumpy One, Harry) is very poorly so he has distracted me as he's being drip fed Squirty Cream at present. That is helping, well its helping the cat he is looking slightly better today He still looks very very poorly though. Yesterday he looked like he would not make it to morning, but he loves Squirty Cream so much he will refuse to die while there is a possibility of another small dish of it for him. And he is eating some food again, and being less fussy that normal too.

I have also been patrolling the garden at night to look for wildlife and things such as Zombies, in the warm evenings. To tell the truth I have seen very little; I think the reason is that our other cat Sooty meows like a banshee at present and does enjoy a walk round the garden. His body is OK, but his brain is not and he is also totally deaf now which is why he howls so loudly I think. So a very sick cat and a deaf mad cat are also jolly good reasons why this diary is getting trickier to write by the day.

I will leave now and drink tea.  

Yet another obstacle in the path of the perfect diary.

Harry in better times

By the Way Sid the Seagull who is a Pigeon has left now I will never know what happened to him but hope he headed home. We were but ships that passed in the night (a few days). Anyway it does mean calling him Sid the Seagull was a suitable name bearing mind he/she  is/was a Pigeon. 

Cats, Vets, Bamboo Flowers and impending DOOM

I have been busy, very busy in a sort of busy to the point of being well exhausted at the end of the day with a sore back. However it’s the sort of busy that when you reflect and look back on what you have done in the last couple of days seems to be not a lot. I’m sure I can’t be the only person this happens to. Anyway all I can say is that despite what appears to be not much progress with stuff it has been a right old game getting it done.

Yesterday morning after an early breakfast we took the cats to the vets to have various jabs for the things that are not good for cats to catch; and to kill off the fleas. I am not convinced any of the flea products work that well. The vet is a great vet and he is certainly one of the most eccentric I have ever met in my life. He is also Canadian so I am not entirely sure how he ended up in a rural backwater in the middle of nowhere. Most of the local vets prefer farm animals, not only are they bigger but they make more money out of them. This vet though loves small critters, any small critters I think he would be happy to do open heart surgery on a goldfish it the opportunity turned up. Anyway he has one small weakness in his vetting abilities and that he's not only bouncy but he talks loads and I mean loads and loads . . . . Phew. So we were a bit later than planned heading home with two confused cats. They are not used to enthusiastic talkative vets saying stuff like . . . . WOW those are amazing kidneys . . . . . and then making his trainee feel the cat’s kidneys.

So after taking the cats home and feeding them; we headed over to one of our daughters where I made a screened area for her recycling bins which had three shelves and a trellis front to hide everything, plus a small sloping roof to stop the cardboard recycling getting wet. Stuff like that takes a couple of hours to do even for a hardened DIY chap like myself . . . . Phew.

We then headed home ate some food and I was back working on the workshop until I was too tired to carry on.

Today I started on the workshop, then planted three smallish trees, then washed the car something that only happens once every 100 years or so which is an interesting coincidence which I shall come to in a minute. And then ate and watered the garden because it has been rather hot by British standards. (Yes the weather machine is still switch on). . . .

Right this coincidence I referred to, we have a couple of small bamboo plants in our garden. Bamboo is interesting it only flowers once and then dies, but it can live for 100 years before it flowers. Bamboo clumps get split and sold and then split and sold again and again in their life, but once one flowers they all flower across the entire world. And one of ours in in flower.  What I did not know is it is a sign of death, famine and doom across the world, and I have checked with the Zombies and they deny everything and say its Mrs May’s (the British Prime Minister) fault and the ever chaotic Brexit talks. . . . Plus todays European Elections for the European Parliament. I suspect the Zombies are right too. Politics is all a bit odd in Britain at present.   

Our Bamboo in Flower

I was rather pleased with these pictures too

Little old Ladies, Armageddon and a Supermarket.

(9...)

Today’s task was collecting my wife’s new glasses, so after breakfast we set off, out into the rain. Yes the weather was even worse than yesterday. The roads were very quiet as we left our tiny village heading towards the grand supermarket (I say grand in reference to its size not interior) where the optician is housed  . The roads remained quiet until we got to the outskirts of the town (I hate big towns and cities). Then the roads were manic despite the fact the weather was rubbish and the roads a bit iffy with all the spray.  Our plan was to get some food supplies from M & S and have a coffee but M & S was full of folk fighting over coffee so we decided to get our supplies and continue the quest.

I like to think of these trips in terms of Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter in order to survive the journey. So having got our first items we journeyed onwards so that my wife could get some felt and beads to make mysterious beasts. I think the plan is to sacrifice then to the Sun God so the Sun will return . . . . . . (Ah apparently that is not true . . . . and I am an Idiot)

Anyway armed with more things we faced the biggest challenge the Grand Supermarket where we got my wife’s glasses.  It was full of folk too fighting over food and milk and packets of lettuce. I suspect the rumour about Armageddon had spread by then. I can be very convincing at times and while my wife was getting her new glasses tweaked to suit her, I may have casually mentioned Armageddon to a bus party of little old ladies with trolleys heading towards the frozen food section. . . Not sure what they were doing there on mass. Anyway there is nothing quite like a group of panicking little old ladies grabbing everything from the shelves and screaming “we are all doomed” to make folk also panic just in case.

We then headed to the DIY store to buy glue and wood for the workshop and then headed to the Garden Centre for a coffee. It was manic also.  It seemed the coffee shop was full of hysterical little old ladies all claiming some idiot had told them a bunch of lies about the End of the World. I tried to reassure them you just can’t believe everything folk tell you. . . Anyway they thought I was a very nice chap not like that other one in the supermarket. I did say supermarkets bring out the worst in folk and they all nodded and pointed at stuff.

After our coffee, OK a hot Chocolate in my case we headed home where the cats leapt at my head demanding food. . . . . . . . . . . Pesky cats

And that is the day so far

Our youngest daughter is due later . . . Apparently she is trying to calm down a group of hysterical old ladies so might be a bit late and I have a car full of DIY things to unload . . . . . depending on when or if the rain stops.

Pesky Rain

I have just been reading an old diary entry from 9^th May five years ago . . . I remember this. It just goes to show a diary is useful.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

It appears that when someone leaves you a little note to remind you to do a particular task it is not a good idea to amuse yourself by modifying the instruction in case you forget that you modified it when you read it the following day. Let’s face it the very reason the note was left in the first place was because I tend to forget things.

So after waking up and waving my hair about in the shower and staggering about saying WHO AM I, WHAT DAY IS IT, WHERE IS MY BRAIN . . . . AH THE ZOMBIES HAVE NICKED MY BRAIN . . . . Eating some breakfast and then groaning loads in order to prove I am a Zombie. I noticed a note left for me to tell me what my task is today. So having read the task I decide I should do them in the order they have been written down.

Instruction One: - Strim Cows

WHAT? . . . . . . I don’t know what that is about but if I am left a note then I have always found it is best just to do what I am told. There was a time I would get distracted and go off and do other things and so the important jobs would get left. But no longer I am a lean mean efficient fighting machine (sort of). I am not sure if any of you have ever tried to strim a cow with a strimmer it is far from easy, in fact it is extremely hard. First off you need to get the flock (sorry herd) penned into the corner of a field and then fire up the strimmer and then charge at them in a random way to confuse them. If you are lucky you might get to strim the side of the odd cow as it stampedes past you, I will tell you right now cows do not like strimmers one bit. Cows can shift I have always thought of cows as slow happy docile beasts with a happy go lucky attitude to life, oblivious of the fact they will be turned into dinner for the masses at some point. Yes OK they did start making tunnels a long time ago, but that was the past, those cows have long since been char grilled and covered in sauce.

Cows it turns out (to get back to the point) can move rather quickly and it also appears that if annoyed enough say by a young enthusiastic chap with a strimmer can be a little aggressive. Well when I say little I really mean big; cows are big, very big.

So after a short time of chasing cows with a strimmer I found myself pursued by angered cows intent on revenge. This quickly led to a decision to abandon Instruction One and concentrate on Instruction two.

Instruction Two :- Pick Parsley

Well this was a piece of cake and done in a flash. It was only afterwards when I was asked HAVE YOU STRIMMED THE COW PARSLEY AT THE TOP OF THE DRIVE that I remembered I had slightly modified the note left for me . . . . . . . . Strim Cow Parsley . . . . . . . . . . AH DAMN

The good news, I now have, but the bad news is I don’t think the cows like me anymore. I have told them I don’t eat cows, but that has only led to rumours and now the farmer does not like me either.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

Drugs, Birds, Cats and a Ladder . . . . .

This morning involved a trip to a nearby village hall where one person looked at another person’s foot as folk do. After that the trip involved the collection of drugs from a doctor’s surgery. Yes it all sounds dodgy but in fact it is not even remotely dodgy. One of the things I have learnt about getting old is after about 50-ish you gain a new prescription from the docs about every 5-10 years or so, so if you reach 100 you just grab a handful and hope for the best.

On returning home I was out in the garden with the lawn mower (OOOoooo what fun). One Ecopoint to make here is keep the blade on your lawn mower as high as possible and the wildlife will generally be OK. Our garden has some very wild bits indeed and is full of beasts and birds and other critters. Those birds cost a fortune in seed, nuts and stuff too and do they care about that NO they just invite all their mates round for a party.

Now in the past I have used a gardener (OK a cheap gardener) and I was pondering why I now don’t. So I looked back through the pages (posts) of my diary and all became clear again. I don’t remember stuff so a diary is useful.

 And here it is what I had written about this many moons ago.

………………………………………………………..

A useful tip that folk may not know about is be selective with who you use as a Gardener because Ghosts, Ghouls and Gargoyles can be a little obstinate and will tend to go off and do their own thing. And saying to them NO NO I WAS THINKING OF MAYBE A CHERUB BALANCING ON THE BACK OF A DAUPHIN, SORRY I MEAN DOLPHIN; OOOOO NO A DAUPHIN WOULD BE GOOD, IN THE FISH POND (as a fountain), NOT THE FOUR HORSEMEN OF THE APOCALYPSE. . . . . . AND YES THE BLOOD RED DYE IN THE WATER IS VERY EFFECTIVE BUT WILL CLASH WITH THE GOLDFISH A BIT . . . . HANG ON ARE THOSE PIRANHA FISH. . . .

Will only make them stare at you like you are a fool and know nothing and that the new sulphur bed with its noxious gasses and sharp pointy things is now so much better than that old flower bed with its Gladioli and Garibaldi Biscuits . . . . . sorry I mean bluebells.

That’s the last time we use UNDIG Gardeners Ltd with their catchy slogan . . . . UnDig Have Risen from the Grave to help you, no job too small……….

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Yes well that was a long time ago and my wife says a gardener would be good as long as I don’t choose another cheap one. So I now do the gardening because proper gardeners are expensive. . . . . . .

As for the rest of the day . . . . I was on a roof lashing down a tarpaulin like a pirate at sea in a storm with my faithful parrot (the cat). . . . The cat has learnt to climb ladders so if I climb the ladder so does the cat. I hate heights and ladders but having a cat on your head is an added complication I don’t need.

Then finally I ate. . (spicy deep fried prawns and rice . . Yum) . . . Drunk tea and chilled and am now doing the diary.

With a cat . . . . Pesky Cat

Another Day of the new look Diary

My wife and I are about to take to the roads and enter the wondrous world of the supermarket. Yes I can hear your thoughts . . . . . No Don’t Do It . . . . But sadly it is necessary as this is the location of the optician in order that my wife can get new glasses. I got new glasses last year so at present I can see. This is good because it will mean I will be able to find the optician.

 Right at this point I will take a break but will return to conclude this diary entry, post optician, post DIY shop and post delivering a few ginger biscuits to my daughter on route. Hey life is exciting or what. . . . . 

 Before I go I could mention that the cats are their grumpy selves this morning and have now had three meals so far and want more but that is fairly normal for an average day here. OOooooo and its grey and damp outside.

Tick Tock Tick Tock . . . . . .(time Passing)

Phew its evening now and my wife has ordered her new glasses so she will be able to see stuff again like threading needles. You need good eyesight for that.

On our way home we stopped for a cup of tea and a scone in the garden centre and I had a look at the cactus . . . . . 100 pound for a cactus just because it is over 12 inches or so tall, I have a few bigger cactus (bigger than that) a couple of which were given to me by folk who know I am cactus friendly and they grow well in our humble home. The garden centre was busy too; I am not good with busy so was pleased to get home where the cats complained loads until they got fed a few times . . . . Pesky Cats

OOOOooooo there was loads of rain again this afternoon so I have drunk more tea and eaten Ginger Biscuits.
OK then that’s it I am sat typing and will chill shortly with more tea. 

 

Something of no interest to anyone what so ever

In order to post a little something tonight in order to keep the momentum of the blog going I have randomly selected an old post from the past which is probably complete gibberish. But I am tired and need some sleep and maybe a few days of sunshine, but I may have to depend on the Gods for that one. . . . . . not the sleep I can manage that fine.

So here is an old post and one with a hidden message hidden within it . . . . I know no one paid much attention to the hidden message the first time round either.

     


THERE'RE BACK . . . . . . Well when I say back I’m not entirely sure they have been here before although Mr Jones says they have, and he knows these things even though the general view is he is as mad as a hatter.  Yes last night after going to bed what should start happening but those lights again a rather strange and eerie glow round the house, and despite me getting up to investigate I could not work out what it was. Then as I decided to return to bed who should I spot hiding in the shrubs watching the lights but Mr Jones, it is not like Mr Jones to hide he is usually running about naked with his large sign saying I am your Friend; as I have said many times before.   But it appears that on this occasion the aliens are according Mr Jones seriously unfriendly aliens known as the Rat people (from Eaglefleebite 7) who look like twenty five foot long Rats. Well that sounds unfriendly to me, apparently they eat all your skirting boards at night plus your legs and maybe your nose and will chew the odd finger too. So if you wake up in the morning with no skirting board a chewed nose and the odd limb missing you will know it was the Rat People of Eaglefleebite 7 led by their notorious leader Big Boris.

I would like to reassure the public that the Rat People of Eaglefleebite 7 are not the same as the members of RATs (the Radical Abstract Thinkers) who do not go about eating the  skirting boards in folks houses so don't start shouting at us and throwing stuff at us like cheese (not unless it is a good strong cheddar). Us members of RATs (the Radical Abstract Thinkers) have enough problems with our own arch enemy the CATs (the Common Average Thinkers) who start terrible rumours that we make stuff up and exaggerate and that my diary is nonsense and that there is a really boring explanation for all the lights at night and that a twenty five foot long Rat Person from Eaglefleebite 7  would not fit through the front door of the average house so it is unlikely to eat skirting boards and that at best it would be a ordinary mouse that say a cat (as in a real fluffy cat) got bored with and gave it a few minutes to try and escape before biting its head off. You see those CATs (the Common Average Thinkers) have no imagination and will never get to meet huge rat based alien life forms with pointy teeth from Eaglefleebite 7 that eat folk, and they will live to regret that one day . . . . . . .  . . . . . I think?

A day in the Life of King Street

I have been busy again today with one thing and another so as a cunning plan I have decided to post one of the more popular posts of recent times, in order to try and recover some interest in my humble blog. . . I mean I draw pictures and there is not an advert in sight here, this is a visitor friendly blog, unlike my house where I would probably shout at you and set the cats on you. Not that I'm a nasty chap but no one wants strangers turning up at your front door smiling and being nice, its just plain suspicious so best just to show them who is boss. Which here is probably the cats as it happens, they even attack me when I turn up unexpected.

Anyway back to the post, this was a popular post written in a haphazard way while I was struggling with writers block. I write much of my blog on the cuff so to speak (a saying that appears to be gibberish if you ask me) and writing is as far as I'm concerned the only way to get through writers block. I know it seems odd but it is not. As for writing popular posts well I try but I feel I may be slightly doomed although having said that it tends to be the slightly odd ones that end up popular so I get rather confused. Maybe folk are out to get me just because I set the cats on them and they have to run for their lives.  So here it is another repeated post

A Day in the Life of King Street

George had moved to King Street because of his obsession with all things connected with space and aliens, in fact it was this obsession that led to him painting his wife Mavis green. She did not object too much although she did say later that she would have preferred to have been warned in advance rather than wake up in the morning covered in green paint.  George himself said that he had never entirely understood Mavis and by painting her green she made a very good Martian, and he was working on a Martian Phrase book. Although Mavis was convinced she was speaking English and told George that everyone else understood her perfectly well.

It was rather ironic then that several weeks later George received a text message from Mavis to tell him she had been abducted by humans who were planning to do terrible experiments on her.  In reality she had run off with Mr Clark the librarian to Spain because the stress of being a Martian had become to much and as she told Mr Clark, George was completely mad.

Several houses along King Street at No24 lived Harold Beckman famous as the first British man in space, who spent several weeks on the International Space Station until the accident where he uttered those famed words HOUSTON WE HAVE A PROBLEM. . . . AGAIN?  Since then Harold always kept a small can of oil about his person and insisted that his door hinges were oiled once a week.  As he told the postman on many occasions as he oiled the hinges of his front door . . . NOBODY WANTS A SQUEAKY DOOR ON THE AIR LOCK. . .  He often referred to the front porch as the air lock. It was his four days trapped in the airlock of the International Space Station that had brought this way of thinking about, and his early retirement was finally thought for the best after he started to wrap his head in Kitchen foil and was found oiling the wrong end of the cat.

After Mavis was abducted (ran off) George spent many hours discussing this with Harold who said the Aliens were everywhere sabotaging all the critical doors around the world so that one day when they invaded folk would find they were immobilized by jammed doors making mankind useless and unable to defend themselves.

Their friendship however came to an abrupt halt when a young assistant at Boots the Chemist handed over some photographs he had developed for Mr Harold Beckman of them (George and Harold) both dressed as Penguins in a state of arousal. It was a great scoop for the local press but not so good for Harold, George or the assistant at Boots the Chemist who was sacked for breach of confidentiality.  Harold kept his front door locked after that and George ran off to Spain to escape from sniggering neighbours, where he found Mavis working in a tapas bar. She told George that her mind had been wiped by men in white coats so she had forgotten about him. They got back together after a bit and are now often seen scampering along the Spanish beaches wearing Penguin suits and giggling.

Quinton Quantum-Quizzical . . . . The A to Z of Slightly Strange Unknown Victorian Inventors and Explorers

Quinton Quantum-Quizzical

Quizzical by name, quizzical by nature was Mr Quinton Quantum-Quizzical’s little catch phrase which he repeated at least half a dozen times a day to his faithful assistant (Ivan Pavlov) and his cat (called Quantum). And there was no denying that he was a quizzical man, experimenting in all sorts of things from chemistry to mechanics and even electricity and alchemy. One day he was invited by Professor Venomous Voldemort to an experiment at the Royal Observatory which involved a cat or at least part of a cat. And this made Mr Quantum-Quizzical ponder his own cat that spent most of its time sleeping in a box in the laboratory. So how was he to know for sure that the cat was alive or dead, because while it was in the box both options were possible and this led to an interesting paradox for Mr Quantum-Quizzical.

So he invented the Quantum Cat Quizzer a device that you can attach to your cats collar or a box and it periodically stabs the cat with a sharp point if the cat does not move. So if your cat falls asleep in a box you will know the cat is alive when it leaps out and runs round the kitchen panicking. If it remains in the box then it can be assumed to be dead.

The device worked well to some degree but it had issues like being made of cast-iron which did make the device heavier that ideal, and a dependence on steam as the devices energy source, leading to several overheated cats. Who when stabbed repeatedly with the Quantum Cat Quizzer did not move, proving the cats were dead.

Although Quinton Quantum-Quizzical did finally master the design of the Quantum Cat Quizzer, the tide of public opinion was against the device as us British were by then turning into a nation of cat lovers. Also several little old ladies very badly injured when their cats having been stabbed with a sharp point hid on their owners heads where the poor old cat then got stabbed again leading to further injuries to the little old ladies.

In the end Quinton Quantum-Quizzical finally put forward the theory that most cats in a box are in fact alive but most little old ladies in a box are dead. A good theory, but one that led to him being repeated stabbed with a sharp pointy stick by his own mother who often slept in a box with his cat.

His assistant Ivan Pavlov suggested they try some experiments with dogs instead but by then Quinton Quantum-Quizzical had decided that he was going to become a nun and was last seen dressed as a penguin with a bicycle wheel on his head.  

Fingernails . . . the Big Question Answered

Well I was asked a question in cyberspace the other day about fingernails, no not the nails you can buy to nail fingers to walls, but fingernails at the end of fingers.  I can’t remember the exact question (sorry Miss Lily) but it was all about their purpose and stuff. And this is an important question because it is not one that Charles Darwin or the Pope ever used in their epic battle of theory v theology.  One the Pope always used to win, but mainly thanks to the Spanish inquisition, folk never argued with the Spanish inquisition. As history has often told us religion can be a bit iffy in its methods of persuasion, anyway this a distraction from the issue of finger nails.

So let us consider fingernails in evolutionary terms what was there function and what are they. Well we know they are made of the same material as hair which explains why they grow constantly, but do they perform something useful like pointing. . . . Well NO.

You see man's nearest ancestor on Earth is the chimpanzee and they don’t do much with their fingernails either in fact in nature most critters don’t use fingernails. The main exception to this is cats, they have fingernails but they are known to us as claws. So this must mean that man and cats are closely related in some odd way, it can’t be a coincidence that they are one of man's closest domestic animals that share (or takes over) his house and life. Even both our main food sources originate from supermarkets.

So it appears that the primary evolutionary purpose of fingernails was to catch mice. This now defunct function in man however has been lingering in the subconscious of the human race for thousands of years and has been the driving force behind mans technological development as we worked relentlessly towards our new goal, the artificial mouse which has finally reached its pinnacle with the Optical Mouse as used in most homes to move that little cursor about on our computers. We are reconstructing the cat playing with its furry toy.

Theology has still never resolved the issue of fingernails and religion is still uncomfortable about why God created them.  If you ask the Pope about them he will raise two fingers in the air to show you his fingernails, shrug his shoulders and then say something to you in Latin which is best not translated.    

A Christmas Day Message not from the Queen

I seldom Write posts on Christmas Day but it is ten thirty in the evening all is quite and so I am reposting my diary entry from 2011. This means that some of what is below is not true and some is. Fundamentally I did not get the same presents I got new ones. . . .I am a lucky chap. As I have said many times the world is fickle there are things we can control and even more we cant, I hope you have all had a great day and that the year ahead will be good. I wish you all the very best and hope as always that folk learn to all live together even though I realise this is unlikely. . . .us humans are not all nice which is a damn shame, we are a conflict of human morality and the basic instincts of nature.  

So what did I write in 2011

Christmas day and a time of many things to many people. My good friend Captain Nessman will have been to mass and then out helping others and trying to do good deeds remembering his friends and family, a day of peace before battling the seven seas once more. We have had a quiet day at home opening presents and pottering about, and sending the odd message out wishing the world a Merry Christmas.

It has been a very chilled Christmas day which is great and I am very lucky to have an array of interesting presents from family and friends including my first mass market merchandising in the form of a badge, well several of them in fact from Miss Fionski the Famous Russian Spy proving the very point that thinking about presents means more than spending lots of money.

I also got some huge clawed hands that fit on my own hands so that I can pick up entire shrubs in the garden and put then in the expanding container supplied with them. I tried testing them on the cat but it ran away at the sight of two huge green claws approaching. I have also receiver books and CD’s (Steely Dan and Neil Young), posh shirts and posh chocolates and various items for the garden plus a weather vane for the roof (Well Cool). Yes I know what you are thinking “BUT YOU ARE AN ECCENTRIC CHILD NOT SOME GRUMPY OLD BLOKE” but I have loads of stuff and as my very good friend Captain Nessman would say Stuff does not bring happiness, OK I am happy and like stuff and have lots of it, but the twists and turns of life are fickle and we must remember such things and not take the good fortune we find ourselves in for granted. After all there are millions who have no control over their fate and have nothing or give up all to fight the greed and corruption of their leaders.

OK that’s it the end of this years Queens speech, Time for food and overindulgence after all I do live in the decadent west, although I don’t do sales so no boxing day sales for us. 

Sun, Showers and Grumpy Cats

Today much like the last two or three days has seen many many showers most of which have been quite heavy, but it has been lovely and sunny in between the showers. This is not great as it makes it difficult to get out and do things such as hunt Zombies and the like neither Zombies or myself like to keep getting wet when we attempt to venture outside. 

Still I am better with the weather than Heavy Harry the Cat who loves the sun and hates rain and cold. Heavy Harry gets depressed when it is cold and wet and will attack us the other cat and anything in his way and demands food until the sun comes out. This has resulted in him lying in the sun looking content until the next shower when he suddenly gets in a grump trips us up demands food and threatens to kill us. But the weather has been such that by the time he has eaten his food the sun has come out again and so he rushes off and lies in the sun again until the next shower. It is worse than fighting Zombies; they are far more predictable than cats. . . And I have noticed from more than one source in cyberspace that it appears cats may have mastered the use of laser beans (sorry beams), I can think of nothing more dangerous than a grumpy cat with a laser beam.

Anyway I finally got rid of him by letting him sleep in the car although it means no one can use the car now until he gets up and stomps about a bit in a strop waiting for more food.

I did not do a great deal today myself much like yesterday but I did manage a fit a curvy bit of wood to the wall in our utility rooms utility room, yes we sort of have a utility room for our utility room, its a funny house (Bungalow).

What is always odd is now even when you don’t achieve huge amounts you still run out of time to do it. Time is not friend, I have a feeling that time should not be linked to the movement of stuff and should be based on something else entirely.

I wonder what the speed of thought is. . . . . . Apparently twenty to thirty milliseconds. . . . . . 

The Fickleness of the Public and Cats and Popular Blogs

Last month my blog had a new record page view count of just over 7,500 and I was a well snig (sorry Smug) little blogger dropping this into conversations with the cats as they demanded their dinner. They pretended not to care until I pointed out if they did not look pleased they would get no food, O yes they soon changed there minds then and meowed loads until I fed them after which they lost interest.

Anyway this month I have had just under 9,500 page views, yet another record for me and I have warned the cats they better look pleased or it is lean times ahead for a few days. I have been trying to work out why this has happened and yet again it comes down to the one thing . . . . . . . Sport.  Yes sadly if I mention sport suddenly I get more page views and of course after the world cup I was forced to comment on the Commonwealth Games a bit. I say a bit because I have not done very well doing this and so far have not spotted a single Alien, just that huge spaceship that no one is mentioning that is perched right in the middle of it all. When I say perched I mean landed or it would be a large alien bird of some sort and I think folk would run away screaming rather than pretend it’s some sort of sports complex or some such other silly idea.

Only I am not sure I have any sporting events left to comment on so I may be forced to make up something that sounds like it might really be happening such as the World Ice Juggling championships or the International Scientists Mathematical Cascade Race.  Personally I prefer Aliens and Zombies and the like but the public seem to have abandoned their love of these fine critters and prefer sport. . . . .  It makes you wonder what the world is coming too, before long we will all be fighting each other or dropping dead from strange tropical diseases. . . .

AH DAMN . . . . Still it will soon be Christmas.  

The origins of old traditions, Goat murmuring, Charles 1st and a Large Cat.

We all wonder stuff, particularly when it is very very hot again today and our minds have melted slightly and are dripping out of our ears making our thoughts mushy as well as making passers by shout Oooo look YUCK.  So I thought to myself today, well to tell the truth I thought to myself about five minutes ago because I was thinking what will I write tonight.  Yes I thought where do all these strange old traditions come from that folk do, like the old Shropshire tradition of Goat Murmuring on the first Sunday of August where folk gather in the local tavern or hotel and murmur away to entice the local goats in. 

Lets face it, it is all very well with its strange rules and instant disqualification for using trails of peanuts, crisps or beer and everyone singing long into the night as they parade the goat proudly aloft if they have succeeded in the quest, in its gilded goat throne. But it is not the sort of thing you sit about thinking I bored today lets try Goat Murmuring. It takes years for such things to take hold and become a part of the local tradition, so that folk turn up from all over the world to take part.

Some say this particular tradition is from the days of Charles 1^st, when he was being hunted down by the parliamentarians and he found himself cornered in Ye Olde Pig and Trolley Inn . . . . . (full English Breakfast available all day). They say that the sharp thinking inn keeper had an old goat skin behind the counter and dressed the King up as a goat.  The Curious but slightly stupid parliamentarians questioned the inn keeper who explained he was practicing his murmuring for the annual Goat murmuring competition. The King joining in by butting the parliamentarians and becoming docile and friendly when the inn keeper started to murmur.

That’s all well and good but traditions like that just can not get going these days, lets face it the old tradition of throwing grannies off the bus is not quite the same. Particularly as it happens every Friday night rather than once a year.

Ooooooo while I was away I saw a huge cat called Ben he was really huge, but rubbish at Cat murmuring and never caught a Dolphin.