Youthful

According to the best human estimates available (and I neither confirm nor deny), I could be about 15 human years old.  I was slowing down a bit in Greece, and although I hate to admit it my hearing has been foggy for years.

Back in UK, it might be the cooler climes, or the access to the garden, or just 'being home', but I have started racing about more.  Admittedly the damp condition of the outdoor spaces discourages long periods of  mousing by the compost bin or under the birdfeeders, and gets 'wipe your feet' yelled at my when I hurtle in through the open dining room doors, but it has returned purpose to my fur overalls and thickened up my tail.

I feel youthful.

Top of my list of positives is that living here means my humans will light the fire in the lounge at nights and I can regulate how much of its heat I chose to absorb.

Since we have been back, F has endeavored to bring order to the lawn (it has received one number 5 hair cut, and was due a number 4 about 5 days later but a lot of precipitation has put that on hold and it is still growing furiously).  She cleared brambles off two patches off garden near the fence shared with the yard of a recently deceased neighbour (who had been incapacitated for years following widowhood), and whose once orderly and manicured suburban backyard is now a wildlife haven.  We don't mind wildlife havens per se (I, speaking for myself, am all in favour of rodent infested areas of prickly stuff), but humans get a bit exercised about it encroaching on their food production areas.  She used some words I am not permitted to blog and still has about 8 similar sized areas to go.

Mr B installed a new catdoor in my garage.  It reads the chip in my neck (I hate to admit to that thing, but it does stop other cats coming into my space.)  My old plain catdoor has been installed as access to the understairs cupboard which is being fitted out as my new indoor nocturnal bathroom.

Day 4 took on a different complex when the humans went out and came back with a van and trailer full of  'stuff' that Mr B might have had stored somewhere.  It certainly looked like Mr B 'stuff', and work to make it fit into the garage has been ongoing ever since.  He has been 'encouraged' to cull some 'stuff' and F has been making extensive use of Freecycle. 

We have had a lot of short term visitors who all left carrying something away with them.

All of this was complicated by lots of rain and a couple of days of strong winds. 

Before it was returned to its owner (it used to be my trailer but Mr B said it has a new owner now), the trailer was used to carry away an enormous load of brambles and pyracanthus prunings (which were also overhang from the wildlife garden).

Sunday was a day of rest - sort of.  I rested at the top of the stairs at the home of Mr B senior.  He lives on his own now; the lady in the wheelchair who used to squeeze my head is not there any more.  My Mr B installed a printer for him and F made roast chicken dinner.  When not resting at the top of the stairs, I guarded the oven.

This week F disappears every morning before 7am.  It means I get my breakfast early but I don't see her all day, and she comes back in long after dark. Mr B has small-human sitting duties with one of my human nieces.  Fortunately it is at her house.  She came to my house last weekend and I quietly retreated to a humanly inaccessible place while she created havoc and chaos in my space.

The human furniture is due to turn up tomorrow, then there will be more out of reach places I can retreat to.

F has rejoined her cycling club but it appears to have gone into decline in the last 4 years and doesn't have regular Saturday rides any more.  

I am hoping days of furious human activity will abate and we will settle down into some sort of routine soon and I have been promised a visit to the allotments this weekend.

F said that I have to report she has much to be grateful for - starting with the rain (which has made the garden easy to pull the layered blackberry roots out of), train strikes (which save a commute two days next week), being eligible for a Senior railcard (which means that with some careful advance booking she gets great discounts on the cost of commuting), and for Mr B making meals this week. Now about the furniture....