Master Detective meets Master Criminal

Guess who wins?

Don't squash me, mum!

Mjukuu still won't put her baby down, but she isn't very gentle with him!

MagnifiBob

He has such a strong moral compass.

Not a Righteous Gentile

Sir Nicholas Winton will be 102 this year. Between Kristallnacht and the outbreak of World War 2 he singlehandedly arranged the rescue of 669 Jewish children from Czechoslovakia. He then served with the Red Cross and as a pilot.

Sir Nicholas's parents were German Jews who came to Britain before his birth and converted to Christianity.

Yad Vashem will not recongise him as a Righteous Gentile because as far as they are concerned he is Jewish, and therefore not eligible. It's a good thing he never thought of being honoured in any way, so at least he won't have been too disappointed.

He never spoke of what he'd done, and it only came to light in 1988, when his wife found a scrapbook containing details, including the names and addresses of those who'd taken in the children.

Luckily others have recognised Sir Nicholas's achievements and in 2010 he was named a British Hero of the Holocaust. And in 2002 a Knight.

Get Stoned, Baby!

Ooooh, that title's in bad taste!

I'd like to be In The Dark with Bobby. Or Vincent. But in the light would be better still!

Ghostly Visitor

At about dusk last night I was shocked to see a large, ghostly grey face peering up at me as I was preparing to put the hens to bed.

I didn't know whether to be even more shocked, or just amazed, when I saw the body that went with it.

It was an absolutely H-U-G-E silver tabby cat. I've only ever seen anything comparable in a cage at a cat show.

His body (excluding head and tail) must have been more than 2 foot long. I'd be surprised if he was not a Maine Coon.

Just to give you an idea, here's one I googled earlier:

If my visitor was smaller than this, it wasn't by much.

He was a very friendly, laid back boy. And very heavy.

He was in next door's garden this morning, crying. Once he heard my voice, he joined me. When I went inside, he sat on the window ledge trying to persuade me to let him in.

He has a shaven patch at the back of his head and neck, and a bit on his leg where a drip or anaesthetic needle would have gone, so obviously he's cared for. If he hangs around, I will call the local vets and see if anyone recognises him.

I'd be amazed if the one he goes to didn't know who I was talking about right away.

Creepy Creep

The slimey perp in this makes me want to heave. What did those women see in him to like or trust?