Evie loves fluffy and Evie loves all things cute. She also loves animals, Roman history stories and dinosaurs.
Her new love is writing horror stories and illustrating them. I’ve bought her a book so she can keep her creepy collection together.
Anyone who’s ever brought home a rescue cat knows that they will have their peculiarities. Renee is no different to the collective. So far she has insisted that she sleeps in my utility room sink. She has however, taken a preference to sleeping under the bath by squeezing through a small hole but she comes out for her grub so there is no stuck kitty.
She has learnt already that the sound of the fridge door opening means there’s food on the menu.
Bonnie is still too much for her but she has shown her inner panther by roaring with that mighty pair of lungs she has. Bonnie is being very patient and an utter angel with her new kitty friend when I know all she secretly wants is a sniff at that swishing tail. Good luck there Bonnie with that.
So far so good.
This is the lovely shop assistant that I tolerated today. I had the misfortune of having to pay for a tee shirt and she had to press some buttons on her till. She was not enjoying her day in the shop, I think the combination of the blaring thump of the techno and my face was interrupting her daydream of a red carpet appearance.
In spite of her sulking I kept my cheery demeanour and all was going well until I focused on her eyebrows.
I couldn’t even do them justice in my drawing. I think her real ones were in there somewhere screaming to be released.
Can’t be shown, won’t be shown. Has to learn it himself. Can’t think who on earth he gets that from.
Got chased by ferel children in the woods. Jumped over fallen trees, scrambled through branches, hauled myself through mud. Their cries of “feed me Macdonalds ” grew more desparate the more I ran.
My breath grew heavy as I clawed my way up the mossy bank, rain drenching my clothes and hair, my Boots make up freshly applied that morning smearing my mud streaked cheeks.
I threw the dog in the car and screeched out of the car park desparate to escape.
As I drew up to the traffic lights, a small, bony hand grasped my shoulder and hissed, “There is no escape”.
The struggle is real this Easter. Send wine, send gin, I am hunted by children on holiday.
At the checkout queue in Morrisons. Old dude behind me keeps bumping and shoving into me in an effort to make me move forward but as there is a lady in front of me, I have nowhere to go.
Old dude is now getting tetchy as his frozen pilchards or whatever are melting, he continues to bump into me and starts tutting. So I take a nice step backwards as I’m not yet feeling the urge to turn around and clobber him with my thick sliced farmhouse.
Me being the manners queen is waiting for an “excuse me”, I do not hear an “excuse me” but I get more bumping and now vegetables are being passive aggressively thrown onto the conveyor belt along with his frozen pilchards and fixodent.
His wife is there too (or maybe his mistress, I won’t digress).
Nice lady cashier takes payment off lady in front of me and starts to help me with my shopping.
Old dude is now a funny shade of purple and is hopping from one foot to the other while throwing Mr Kipling mini battenburgs and garibaldi biscuits into his frozen pilchards conveyor belt collection. Wife/ mistress anxiously clutches her copy of Radio Times and a box of tic tacs (fruity flavour ones).
Cashier tells me that her daughter is being bullied so I listen and I tell her my experience of bullying taking as long as I possibly can and drawing on every minute detail I can remember, for as long as I can while watching Old dude’s eyeballs do strange twitchy things.
By the time I’ve packed and paid he completely erupts spectacularly. (due to the melting pilchards situation I’m presuming).
I may have had a little word with security on the way out about the aggressive man in aisle 10 towards a member of staff. 🙂
Have a nice day.
Bonnie has made a friend recently, a ten year old Jack Russel who we will call Sid (as I can’t remember his name and Bonnie doesn’t care what he’s called anyway).
Sid loves Bonnie and Bonnie loves Sid. They spend their time sniffing,weeing, finding crisp packets and chasing cats together on various happy adventures.
Today was joyous as they found some cooked potato.
There was much celebrating between the two of them and much screaming from me as they were far too away for me to stop them eating it.