A Few Brief Brush Strokes......

Greetings.  Apologies for absence. 

Last  Friday we went out to a local venue to hear the “Brass Monkeys” in action – a while since we’d had the pleasure, and a great pleasure it was too.  Brass instruments played with great aplomb, enthusiasm and expertise.  A very good evening out.  (Apart from not eating before we got there, and discovering that they don’t do food of an evening.........)

Saturday was “Chooks Re-location Day” – for the summer they move away from the shelter of the house and conservatory, down to the bottom of the garden (ie. a total travelling distance of about 20 feet !) – affording the hens more scope for sunbathing, a much more interesting outlook over the garden to view visiting cats/foxes/etc, better circulation of air currents, and much easier exit from the run when opportunities arise.  The hens had a fine time, and Eena, who had been looking decidedly ‘out of sorts’ most of the week, and had a few nights in the house along the way, was back to digging about with the best of them.  As for the peoples – well, we get chance to use the paved area next to the house again.  Maybe the BBQ will get dusted off this year......... 

Sunday started at 5am, with the chooks shouting their heads off......VERY loudly  (had they forgotten they’d re-located on Saturday ?).  Then was the usual programme of rehearsal, Sung Sunday Services,  and a fine sermon from the Provost (was it a good holiday then ?).  Tea and cake with friends in the afternoon.  A little light refreshment at the end of the evening.  (Why else would you sing ?)

After this weekend excitement, 9 month old Master Bart Catlet got hisself stuck up a tree on Monday night..........all we knew was that he took hisself out in the early evening, full of the joys and Master of the Universe.  He then didn’t come home before darkness crept in, and no sight nor sound was evident as we examined every area within reach.  Well, you can guess how the night went on....... late to bed in case he showed up...... TH was out looking for him at 3am......... Chickpea was checking around at 5am......... then out at 6am to check for RoadKill before the clearer-uppers would have been out..........  No Sign.   Mr Mutt got longer walks both evening and morning than usual, covering the likely area of disappearance.  Time to head out to work....... Then, a wee small cry.  Both consistent in response to encouragement, and verified by TH.  ......... Finally traced to Up A Tree.  Not a particularly LARGE tree.  But in Someone Else’s Garden, and high enough to be out of reach.  But – Pathetic.  Yup. “Heeeeeeellllllppppp !  I can’t get down !  Saaaaaaaaaaaaaave me !”  (Honest – you could hear him – thinking out loud, he was !) 

Eventually separated from high perch, returned to terra firma, food, and sleeeeeeeeeeeeepppppppp............

The other end of the day brought us a house guest.  TH had become aware of a fine long-furred grey tabby stray from a local housing scheme, thin, bedraggled, matted coat, bad breath, unkempt and uncared for............ One vet visit and several pounds’ transaction later, with an anaesthetic booking arranged for ‘grooming’ and teeth review, flea and worm treatments......... and the menagerie had increased .......  temporarily ?  Time would tell.  TH having a certain tendency to cat allergy would be a factor........

Cat smiled......... and scoffed anything that came his way......... and purred...... and purred.........

Meantime, Bart scowled, cursed and swore.  Mr Mutt retreated to his bed and hoped none would bother him.......  TH succumbed to the viral infection which had probably been out enjoying the Brass Monkeys’ gig at The Ferry last Friday.......

And so to today - Ascension Day.  Next step along the way thru the Liturgical Year.  TH somehow managed to shake off his virus enough to sing, (Miracles certainly DO still happen), but has set off away to The Land of Nod.  Now nearing Midnight, Guest Cat has washed his feet for the night and is hoping to be allowed to stay, please........ Bolshy Bart is at the lounge door feeling unloved and abandoned (and probably hoping for some more supper)......... Mr Mutt has his head down, hoping someone will put the light out......... Domestic bliss.   ChickPea has bored you silly – Thank You for calling by. Have a Great Friday and a Fab Weekend ! 

Bright and Shiny New Bishop of Glasgow and Galloway (photo by Gordon Smith)

Intending to Pull The Leg......... but Treading On Toes....

I was out for a little light refreshment after Evensong on Sunday. As One does. If’n you get half a chance.

Anyhow. There we were, chewin’ the fat, watching ‘Countryfile’ (on the inevitable TV screen, thankfully behind me), and generally bletherin’ (as you do in these parts of Northern Britain)........

............and then I became aware of them sittin’ opposite me becoming totally and utterly entranced - had I suddenly gained that tantalising ‘X’ factor for which I’d searched all my life ? .......cor.........how amazin’ ...... how my life will change ! ..................or ........er..............had the programme changed ? - was it maybe – just perhaps - the slinky young things in leather choreographically cavorting around the screen behind me........ ah well, you wins some an’ you loses some, eh.......... an’ – here’s thinking positively – wouldn’t THEY make Evensong a bit different, eh ?

Ah me..........

Anyway, the conversation turned to Young Furryface Bart Catlet, and his Encountering The Hens that very afternoon. “That must have been rather frightening for him” quoth the man in black opposite, “A hen must be an awfully big scary thing when you’re as small as Young Bart.” (Or words to that effect, anyhow).

And, of course, he was absolutely right – but as I thought he knew me fairly well, I confess I thought I’d wind him up a bit. Pull The Leg. Gently. Bit of a joke, an’ a’ tha’........

“Oh, no” sez I blithely – “he’s a BOY – Monster Hens are no problem to BOYS”...........

Now, from my starting point when watching the kitten, that statement was reasonably accurate – young Bart was TOTALLY entranced by these Bossy Birds who were fluffing themselves up to look twice as big as ever they could be, and whereas my ole girlie PoppyCat at the same age would have run a mile, Young Bart, tho certainly a wee trifle wary, was Absolutely All Eyes And Ears And Curiosity..............

OK. I was being a bit naughty......... playing such A High Stake Gender Card quite so ruthlessly after a long Sunday.

I thought he’d rise to the bait all the same. Implying gender issues are – or could ever be - so clear cut is actually so very completely contrary to my understanding and approach to life........... I was so sure such a ridiculously cocky stance would be challenged. Safe bet even. Banter would ensue. A little gentle swordplay.

But I had totally miscalculated .......... well, I probably hadn’t calculated at all, really.

End of conversation. I was sorry for that.

But over these days since, it HAS made me think. About things with which I thought I was not only fairly comfortable, but suitably sensitive. And considerate. I think I was wrong about that too.

For some of us these issues may seem fairly unimportant, magnified by Certain Others out of all proportion, and therefore ripe to bring into play for a bit of a laugh...... but for ‘those others’ these same issues are so very VERY real, and personal, so very relevant and integral to their whole being, that these selfsame issues carry a much MUCH greater importance than may be realised............. I know I have sometimes thought of gender orientation as being like having blue eyes rather than brown, or being tall rather than short (and either of those can be hard enough to come to terms with, trust me) ...... but it’s all rather more personal even than that, isn’t it.............

A Rollercoaster of a day......

ChickPea and Mr Mutt were awaiting TH’s emergence from his place of employment this afternoon, so to pass the time (and because she’s only just discovered this unexpected aspect/resultant requirement of her mobile phone), ChickPea was ‘deleting sent messages’ ……… months’ and months’ and months’ worth………so there was heaps of stuff relating to DJ. Fairly ‘tame stuff’ maybe, but it was still unexpected, and more of a shock than anticipated.

Bereavement is like that, isn’t it. Just when you think you’re moving on, something grabs you by the ankle.

There’s a lot of this kind of stuff around in ChickPea’s day to day life at the moment, not least because her own Dad was dying slowly in the extreme south of England at the same time that DJ was moving into residence with her and TH in Scotland. So ‘Dad loss’ has been a compound experience spanning somewhat more than these five or so years. And I guess there’ll be yet more to reach the surface – as it does, and as it must.

Meantime, a very dear pal is living thru the heartache of losing a beloved pet who has been close friend and companion, and supported both heart and sanity thru recent divorce. Initial survival of pet was precarious about ten days back – apparent progress seemed to offer hope, and got pet home and seeming recovering – but now the blood tests show a hopeless outcome just a few days away. As Ms Mog is almost nineteen, and slowly but steadily fading away (tho still appears content, enjoying her food and occupying most of the bed all day - and much of it all night), ChickPea and TH feel very very aware of pal’s sadness.

And then, this evening, surprise, surprise – invitation to an ‘initial interview’ ! On Thursday. Yes – just three days’ time! Hardly time to draw breath. After recent knockbacks and several non-replies, one of the Jobseeking efforts of last week is daring look at ChickPea in the flesh ! Cor. Gosh…….. (panic)

Now, the chances of her getting to the next step may be most unlikely – and much as she had been thinking of part time hours, “five-going-on-fifty-something” is kinda young for green fields and horseplay – and maybe a change of direction into a satisfying employment course will need not only personal commitment but time dedicated to achieving change…….. At the very very least, another interview will be another most useful experience, and even just getting invited to interview is dead good for the morale, and … who knows what the future may hold ? She’s been saying she wants “to do something different”, and has been doing ‘head level’ reinventions of herself after all, and ambitious job applications ……. so will this chicken come home to roost ? ………..

Mama Mia !

What a hoot ! TH and ChickPea needed a break several Saturdays ago, so they took theyselves away out to a film. They happened upon ‘Mama Mia’.

Me oh my – wot a larf !!! Larfed her socks off, she did. And cried – yup – cried too. The tears wiz rollin’ they wiz.

There wiz sea, and sunshine – lots n lots a’ sunshine……….. and sand, and friends, and friendship, and love and laughter and fun……. almost like you wiz there yersel’ too………Sheer fun………

And there wiz families, and Fraught, and Frantic and Frenetic. And Forgiveness.

So much wiz unlike ChickPea’s own experience.

And there wiz tears, and there wiz laughter. And there wiz Understanding, and Forgiveness, and Acceptance. And Wrongs Were Righted, and Partners Found, and there wiz fun and Rejoicing and Giving Thanks. And Celebration.

And much wiz like ChickPea’s own experience. And the Whole was So Very Incredible An Experience, that it needed to be repeated, to see if it was true.

So last night, they went again, with some pals. And yes – there wiz the sea, and the sky, and the sunshine, and the love, and the laughter. And this time there wiz words too…….. Now there’s a Thing. Singing. An’ Dancin’.

Glasgow was oot an’ aboot, an’ at its ver’ bestest. Its Finest. Most Memorable. An’ the film wiz Fun. Again. And it wiz good. Very Good.