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Now wash your hands.

So we’re washing our hands at every opportunity as we’ve been told to.
Shops have been stripped of painkillers, soap and bog roll.



Administration.

“I have something for you mum” are words that every parent knows are laced with a few meanings.

The first is innocent and lovely, probably a little handful of daisies or a hug.

The second, however, is something unwanted, sinister and must be approached with extreme caution and cynicism.

“Oh yes?” comes my reply (raised eyebrow). I am the master after years of being tricked, poker face is on and braced for impact,

And there they are in my hand, a scrunched up pile of months and months of school letters, casually handed over without a single drop of sweat shed.

Months of letters.

Suppose it could have been a slug or a dead spider.

Today.

Today

What I tell my little ones as they drag themselves into Monday.
Anything else can wait.
Anything else is just that.

The black tempest.

She may be small, but she’s a little noise machine of fury.
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Bird is the word.

autumn-starlings

I’m dedicating January to the birds that come to my garden. I have no exotic varieties, just your average Joes of the bird world but to me they are wonderful and they think I’m great right now as I’ve hung three brand new feeders from my studio in an attempt to encourage more into my little urban garden.

My house is part of a Victorian terrace built by the miners and their families 150 years ago. A descendent lives a few doors up and says that they were built to house the families who kept chickens and grew their food here.

Fast forward a century or so and the city has grown around these houses and the mines have gone. But the wildlife is still here, hanging on and adapting to the pace of life and the endless rain.

Today’s post is in salute to the starlings that frequent my garden. Sleek and noisy little birds. Starlings are wonderful mimics of sound. They will copy what they hear and repeat it back with relish. Well you can imagine that Swansea is a feast for these little flocks of sound machines. From car alarms, mopeds to mobile phones it is never ever quiet around here and these little birds congregate on the telephone lines in the winter and belt out their whistle and chirps.

In deepest January they are most welcome to strip my feeders, tease my chickens and entertain me in my studio to a Swansea mega mix of noise. Demolishing fat balls within ten minutes and then entertaining me with their sound effects.

One summer morning you could hear the noise of a single alarm clock coming from an open window, within seconds, the voices of twenty alarm clocks were ringing out over the rooftops and telephone wires.

Wakey wakey.

Cwtch.

Cwtch is a Welsh word. It means cuddle.
And cats all over the world know exactly what it means when it’s cold and there is a warm lap waiting to sleep in.
gruff and renee

Halloween 2019

I think the girls out did themselves this year. Evie’s wig was spectacular and Renee worked that Halloween cat vibe like the sassy puss she is. Millie ever resplendent as a 1920’s flapper girl.
(Wondering how long that feather will last with two cats in the house though).
halloween 2019

Is it feeding time?

This is emotional blackmail!
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Soggy moggy.

Soggy, wet night needs soggy cat cuddles.
wet cat gruff

Have you got everything?

Organised? I laugh in the face of organised and bring you morning anarchy!
morning is crap

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