I can now reveal the secret construction project I mentioned last time I posted. Hold on to your hats it’s impressive.
Cyril (three legged-monster cat or, to give him his new name, Squadron Leader Cyril) now has his very own plane.
|Awaiting scramble on a warm summer evening|
Now this relaxed picture might give you the impression that everything to do with this major construction project was calm and controlled. Let me disabuse you of that idea immediately. The plane, a fantastic present from nephew no 1 and his long-suffering wife, came in a flat pack (two words to strike fear into the heart at any time). The assembly instructions were Ikea-ish. They merely consisted of a set of very small and ambiguous drawings. The ground crew (the other-half and I) decided to put the plane together as a team. I will draw a veil over this experience other than to say divorce papers were nearly served. However, we are now both origami masters and domestic harmony has been restored.
Here is the Squadron Leader inspecting our work
And here he is in the cockpit (a hint of madness in his eye):
And then disaster, he pranged his kite:
|(Yes I KNOW my house is a mess. I can't build planes AND do housework you know)|
You'll be pleased to hear that the ground crew has made repairs and the plane is airworthy once more as the aerial shot below proves (although sadly pilotless)
My nephew's cat, Wing Commander Cookie, had a similar experience in her plane. See below, my nephew's wife managed to get the prized shot of the pilot's entry into the cockpit. I defy any cat to get into their plane and maintain their dignity:
More boringly I had another lot of chemo and herceptin yesterday. All went well. I'm now in my usual steroid frenzy, up at daft o'clock and, as you've probably guessed, faffing about with lots of cats in planes photos. Beats doing housework.