Saturday, 6 September 2014

Friday, 29 August 2014

Life is short.

We saw Tinks happily re-homed to her new owners on Tuesday evening and thought we'd done a good thing, the right thing, the thing we signed up for when we agreed to foster. She was bouncing with health and happiness and seemed to have grown not just in stature but in character and personality.
She took ill on the Wednesday, I don't know if the stress of the move triggered it or it was just bad timing. By Thursday she was gravely ill on a drip at the vets and sadly, oh so very sadly, on Friday morning she was put to sleep.
The total and utter shock was the awful thing. To lose an older or ailing cat is tragic and sorrowful and a huge sad painful loss, but it's more understandable, expected even.
Tinks was a kitten, a happy, healthy kitten.
Friday was awful. We had the visit from Lennie to tell us the news and she stayed here with us for several hours, all of us in and out of tears and so so thankful for the happy babbling and playing of George who is the most perfect help and distraction in situations like this.
I couldn't stop the terrible feelings of guilt, what if we had kept her ourselves? Would it still have happened? Did I send her to her death? - thankfully the PM results came through swiftly and told us that the indications were such that she had an inherent auto immune disease - something that could and would have killed her at any time.
We will never ever forget our beautiful, tiny, fluffy girl, our cat parrot.









Sunday, 17 August 2014

Sunday

Jon made Bara Brith

 Tinks continues to heal beautifully from her neutering on Friday

George, with a cheeky Daddy in the background

Jon, in classy black and white

Saturday, 16 August 2014

Saturday

Saturday dawned blustery and wild, clouds scudding across the sky like yachts in a fastnet race. After a spot of breakfast and a mug of tea we headed up the hill to the Great Rock, the wind pummelling the car as we crested the hill by the Golf Course (best view from a course ever?) then pushing us down the road towards Staups Lee. Once parked we scurried into the shop, picking up a bakehouse loaf of better bred brown and a pack of six eggs. Pausing for a look in the freezer but no lovely Burnt Edge sausages were available. Jon picked up a Blackshawhead fete pamphlet (last year I entered and picked up three second prizes for my jam, chutney and apple pie) and was invited to help put the tents up on the show field. Another twinge of longing that we lived up here - part of that little community. From shop to hens we then ambled, to visit the chickens who had laid our eggs, their luxuriant hut and grassy intak testament to the definite free range nature of the product. George called to them cluck cluck cluck and pointed...CHICK CHICK....A HENNNN...then spotted the large trampoline and raced off....I LIKE BOUNCING!




Oh to be young again, I like bouncing too.


Friday, 15 August 2014

For Alice and Dylan





Jon sent these lovelies we bought yesterday in Hebden off to new baby Alice and her big brother Dylan.

Thursday, 14 August 2014

The Market


Jon was off on Thursday, well, I say off, he actually spent the entire morning doing work, but I did have him to myself in the afternoon. We got out of the house around 12 and went to the market, thursday is second hand goods and is always busy and full of eccentric characters and lots of tat. We browsed the stalls looking at books, beads, toys and tweed...calling in to the indoor market for restorative drinks - Coffee for Jon and a big mug of builders tea for me. We sat at the corner table, watching people pass and call into the ironmongers. Shaz phoned me for a while and Jon replied to emails. A Grandmother, Mother and Daughter sat next to us and had chip butties with cans of coke, the daughter wore a claddagh and I thought of Graham and wondered if they were Irish. An old lady dropped her stick inside the cafe and the nearest table immediately rose and retrieved it, giving her a lift with her bags. A wife perched her bum on a high stool behind me and kissed her husband, he'd been sat waiting with his coffee and the paper while she shopped. All life is here, at the market, the breadth of ages and classes, sitting elbow to elbow immersed in the companionable buzz of chatter, china and cutlery.