pebblerocker

I've been entirely disproportionately exhausted by working for two days this week and my ability to contribute to NaArMaMo has fallen through the floor. So instead of art, I'm doing a cat post. Here's a proper introduction to Monty, with pictures!

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Hello internet. I still exist.

In a week's time I'm moving house. That's always stressful. I've been lucky enough to stay in one house for seven or eight years and I don't want to pack up everything, I want to pull the blankets over my head and hide forever. The new house is nice though; it has insulation and double glazing, and when I visited it after it had been shut up all day with the sun blazing down it was still nice and cool inside - unlike the tupperware box of a house where I live now.

Geoffrey continues to expand his hunting repertoire. He has cut down a bit on the earthworm hobby and has in the last few weeks carried in a couple of young birds, a mouse or two and a frog, many of which were completely unharmed and successfully released. He's in the habit of carrying his captives straight into the bathroom and gloating over them in there, giving us plenty of time to effect a rescue. The frog (species identified as a green and golden bell frog) survived unscathed, despite being carried who knows how far in Geoff's teeth, and we took it to the lake where it is presumably happy and better educated than before.

I'm keen to get back into Blake's 7 and start posting about it - though at my rate the Adventures with the Wife and Blake blog will outstrip me rapidly. Currently I'm progressing through Due South series 1 with much enjoyment, except that the 1971 Buick Riviera got blown up and I felt too sad to go on to the next episode. The car in a cop show is always practically a main character. No chance of me running out of Due South because there are so many episodes to a series!

This cat! Can you believe this cat! Have a picture of him under the cut. Butter would not melt in his little mouth.
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Cilla learnt pretty fast to be gentle and use soft paws when playing with humans or climbing onto laps. Cliff learnt a completely different lesson: that humans are nice and cuddly when wearing jeans, but become irrational and noisy when they have any skin showing. He developed something of an aversion to the touch of human skin because he knew if he climbed over bare legs or clung to a bare shoulder he'd get shouted at.

I'm looking after three foster kittens at the moment and it's amazing how rough they can be with each other! They generally know not to scratch people when interacting with them as people, but it all goes out the window when they're treating people as terrain or interestingly wiggly objects.