Taxi!

Following his outing to the other side of the block the week before last, Macavity decided to go AWOL again during the last week.

This time I was ready for him! I put the basket in the car and drove round to roughly where I found him last time. I got out and started walking back along the route. I soon heard a repeated mewing behind me. I turned and found my errant kittie strolling towards me, answering my call with his.

Stuffed hurriedly into his basket he continued to miaow all the thankfully short drive back home.

Trophy Wine

Personally I think the second word in the title should have been spelt "whine"! Ludicrous episode.

At least they took note of our obsession with the Size 13s.

How to boil mums...

...and over heat people.

Macavity doesn't go out very often, because he isn't brave enough to sidle past Twiglet. But when he does go, it's usully for quite a long time.



Tuesday was hot, and he'd been mooching around for a while trying to pluck up the courage to take the plunge. By about 3pm he had definitely disappeared from the house. He wasn't home by midnight. He wasn't home in the morning. Wednesday was set to be the hottest July day ever (literally) at 35 C/95 F. I struggled to work, struggled at work, struggled home from work, then finding Mac was still missing, printed out some flyers and struggled round the streets leafletting.

Picture this. A block of houses about 80 houses long each side, each with 100 foot gardens backing on to one another. and you see the scale of the problem. Add the temperature and you may begin to appreciate how monstrous a task this was. Especially as the sun was shining on the front doors making the letterboxes so hot they could burn the fingers.

So, backing on to my house is number 119 of the street behind. When I got past it to number 123, I delivered the leaflet, walked back down the steps, down the short path, and then heard a quiet mew. I looked down and there, under a bush by the gate, was Mac. I scooped him up and started to walk home with him, a bunch of leaflets, a water bottle and my house keys stashed around my sweaty person.

By the time I reached the last house in the street I was ready to drop. A young woman walking towards me - a total stranger - turned into that house. I asked her if she drove the car parked there. She said no, but when she saw the situation, she invited me and Mac in for a drink. Never has a tall glass of iced water looked or tasted so good. Mac wandered round the house as if he lived there.

So when my drink was finished, I dared to ask if she would let me leave him there while I went to get my car and the cat basket. She agreed. When I came back less than 10 minutes later, her two housemates had arrived home, and Mac was surrounded by three adoring females, lapping up the adulation as to the manner born. I was told they'd cat-sit any time.

This is the fourth time locals have helped me get one of my cats back. And people ask me why I've stayed here so long. It's called great neighbours. Even ones you don't yet know and haven't yet met.

Last Street In Manhattan

Good to see Alex's family problems for a change. And the old raised eyebrow.

Boots On The Ground

One of those episodes with an absolutely pointless plot. Thanks goodness for the light shining on Bobby.

Seveonaks - home of the devil

Sevenoaks is expensive to live in. It considers itself a superior commuter town. So of course the number of Chelsea tractors per square inch is large. (For those of you not familiar with this term it refers to 4x4s, SUVs, Land Rovers etc.)

I lost count of those I saw in the small, overcrowded, inadequate car park there the other day. But it was one of the slightly less bulky monsters that decided to make it impossible for me to get in my car and leave.

 

Going in at an angle, he left me about 14 inches at the front end, decreasing to about 8 inches at the back. I couldn't even squeeze up to the door, which is very wide, let alone open it. As for climbing in - only if I turned myself into a lquid and someone poured me in.

I asked the car park attendant to give me some advice. He couldn't find the driver or move either vehicle, but he was empowered to give the driver a ticket (yay, £35, doubled if he doesn't pay within two weeks) and then a very kind gentleman climbed in through the passenger door, edged across and rolled my car out of the space. Thunderbirds we are go!.

The new Marks and Spencer in posh Sevenoaks had a great selection of vegetarian BBQ items that my impoverished local store (which is at least twice the size...) doesn't bother to stock. Don't bother trying to find out why, you never get a straight answer from them about their prejudice against to impecunious vegetarian. Believe me, I've tried repeatedly over many years.

Seveoaks is less than 25 miles from my home, and getting there usually takes between 30 and 45 minutes. But on Friday, getting back was a bit of a problem.

The dreaded M25 motorway that  encircles London was on an even slower go-slow than usual. I spotted a tail-back at Junction 4 (no warning signs even though it resulted from a crash in the tunnel under the Thames at Junction 1 many hours earlier) so I left the motorway to take the A road home. ALong with several hundred thousand other people, apparently, because the journey home took 2 hours!

I don't think I'll be going to Seveoaks again any time soon.

The Consoler

Icky icky nasty episode with slimey villains.

Rispetto

However crap the stories were - and putting them out of order to get a ripped-from-the-headlines story in early - it was nice to see Bobby playing again.

Hello Wingham Wildlife Park

My first effort to find a new place to coo over animals took place yesterday.

Wingham Wildlife Park is in the Kent countryside, about 65 miles from London. It's not far from Canterbury, the home of the world's most famous cathedral, and to get there you have to drive past Howlett's, home of one of my regular animal experiences.

I was prepared for some of the enclosures to be a bit smaller than I would like, and so it proved for some of the medium-sized cats, but given that some are rescued from awful situations, they are currently in a better place than they used to be.

I've only ever seen one very secretive jaguar before, hidden in bushes. This boy was inside in the morning as he shares the outside with his mate...and their cub. Reintroductions have to be carefully handled.




Later he was outside, but he was still longing to get inside with his lady.Who would believe he was born white?




The female is a melanistic cat, as is the cub. Baby's in the grass.




Mum's on a shelf.




Baby wants to play.




Mum obliges.




The tigers are brothers, from a small private zoo in Belgium. Their mother rejected them, and Wingham's stepped in to raise them. They are hybrid, so cannot be bred from. To allow them to stay togethere they have been castrated. The marks indicate that this is the same boy twice.




There were several thunderstorms yesterday, and during one, the ringtail lemurs took shelter under this empty cable roll. Too much effort to go inside...




The lions are also brothers, rescued from terrible conditions in a circus.




In the afternoon, there was an opportunity to spend time with the ringtails in a walkthrough of their enclosure. Usually they have several babies a year, but this year there is only one very energetic little chap.






The park has no problem with the ringtails hopping on to visitors, though we must not pet them (something I only found out AFTER this little episode).






When the sun came out, the red-ruffed lemurs made the most of it.




The park is also part of the Scottish wild cat breeding progamme.




Looking at that lovely black jaguar made me long to give my own little panther a cuddle!

Loyalty Part 2

And it's bye bye Bobby. Till Season 10.

Animals Home and Away

I am almost certainly moving on from London Zoo, looking for somewhere I can drive to in the same time it takes me to get there by public transport (takes about an hour and a half just to go less than half way across London, and though it's free for me, my body pays) and as soon as I have a non-working day when the sun actually shines, I shall be off to Kent where a large group of multi-sized cats - caracals, pumas, cheetahs, jaguars, lions, tigers, native wild cats - awaits me. My car appears to run on air, so it will still be almost a free ride.

Anyway, I went to say goodbye to the tigers, and was lucky enough to get some shots of big boy JaeJae following his keeper's lead to enable a dental exam followed by treats.








Then there was the oh-so-appealing black and white ruffed lemur in the walk-through.





I caught an unexpected tongue shot of a ring-tailed lemur.




There's also a new spider walk-through. Just you, the webs, and some ENORMOUS spiders.




Finally, back in my garden, the foxes enjoy a daily feed.

Loyalty (Part 1)

In which the powers-that-be made their biggest mistake by replacing Bobby with a fly.

Zoonotic

And here we are at the end of the alphabetical run-through of seasons 1-8. After I have painfully posted a picture or two from the only episodes of season 9 that matter, and then finished off with season 10, I suppose it's back to the films. But be warned, I haven't any beyond Chained, and given the lack of interest this blog is now evoking, the end might well be in sight.

Yesterday

Dreamy Bobby. Loved it when he kicked in that door.

Wrongful Life

I was disappointed when the actress in the wheelchair turned up in The Newsroom totally able-bodied. There are plenty of disabled actors, I'm sure they could have found one to play the part.

The War At Home

Can't stand that Jeri Ryan woman. Why is she always cast as some sexpot?

Meanwhile, when not dealing with his ailing mother, Bobby was very good at displaying his lovely neck.

Want

I wanted to feel sorry for the perp in this. Bobby did, of course. But I always worry why these "tragic" serial killers don't just top themselves and leave all their potential victims alone.

Of course, VIncent was wearing his Welles hair.

Busy days with animals

When Macavity arrived he soon settled on my bed. He's no fool.

So Twiglet has colonised the sofa. She appears to have kidnapped the Lindt chocolate bunnie and stolen his collar and bell.

Meanwhile Mac is still on the bed. He doesn't want to reveal the colour of his eyes. They are a secret. Are they yellow or are they green?

On Tuesday Eltham Palace had a preview of the work they've been carrying out during the close season. They've refurbished previously unseen bits, such as the wartime bunker, and because the Courtaulds who built the modern palace had a pet lemur, they brought in a lemur to enhance the day. (Except for the TV presenter who wondered if it was a marsupial...)

It's been quite a lemur-y week. On Wednesday I went to see the new walk-through lemur enclosure at the zoo. Wish I had a tail like that.

 Finally, this evening I enjoyed my usual fox-feeding fest. To start with there were three darlings, but by the time I fetched my camera only one was still feeding...along with a brave - or foolish - magpie who often pops down to try and steal a snack.

Then foxy noticed the pigeons. They soon disappeared though and s/he seems to be heading for me instead!

The View From Up Here

I know a lot of people didn't like this episode. All I know is I wouldn't pay tuppence to live in that highrise. And being Season 4, Bobby looked so tired. Or rather Vincent did.

Final Resting Place

On Thursday Riachard III was finally buried in Leicester Cathedral. After everyone had left after the service the task began of delivering the monument that was to cover the tomb, and hoisting the solid granite slab into place.

Simple but beautiful.