Sunday, 13 May 2012

Lord Snooty and the man of many projects

A hard day's night

First of all let us discuss Lord Snooty, or as he’s usually known in these parts, Cyril the three-legged monster cat.  He’s had me worried over the past few days.  He’s been going off his food (a thing largely unheard of).  First he started just licking at his grub in a half-hearted manner and walking away rather than noshing it all down in three disgusting gulps and then demanding more.  Next he started turning his nose up at his dinners altogether.  Now you may think this is just typical picky-cat behaviour.  But he’s already on posh cat food.  When we first got him home from the rescue centre, eight long months ago, he would happily nosh on an own brand supermarket cat food, then he stared getting more high flautin’ tastes and we had to move on to Whiskas and Felix.  A few months later those manufacturers were rejected and we moved on again, thanks to a hefty bank loan, to Sheba (queen of cat foods).  And now we appeared to have reached the Great Sheba Impasse of 2012.  Luckily, just before we placed an order for caviar with Fortumns and Masons we realized our mistake.  We had unforgivably brought Cyril a box of poultry favoured Sheba instead of purchasing the fishy delights variety he prefers.  Rest assured the correct food has now been purchased, sampled and received Lord Snooty’s full approval.  Calm has been restored at Discombobulated Towers.  Although I suspect some kind of atoning sacrifice to the cat gods may be necessary on my behalf.

Now on to the man of many projects.  A couple of years ago the other-half transformed our back yard into a garden (see below) and very chuffed I am with it too.

Back yard April 2010
July 2010

July 2010
I could add many more photos showing how it's developed into a much less manicured patch now (I do favour a bit of chaos) but I will spare you.  Especially the poor relatives who have sat through the whole 'garden transforation album' on several occassions without (apparently) slipping into comas.  (Argh this text change problem is driving me bonkers, I've tried all sorts and nothing works I tell you!)

Anyway not content to rest on his gardening laurels, laurels which include working on our allotment I might add, the other-half had decided to also transform our (smaller) front yard into a garden.  I think it will look great but am not looking forward to the swearing and moaning which will undoubtedly accompany this feat of engineering, design and tormented artistry.  The front yard plan has been on the back burner for a while but may well start today (good weather, hurrah!).  But yesterday the other-half announced plans to also re-design the water feature in the back garden.  Again the plans sound great but I suspect there will be a deal of water-feature-angst in the not too distant future.  I, of course, am playing the health card and will be far too delicate to help in such matters.  Instead I shall languidly supervise for five minutes until the swearing gets too much for me then I shall take myself inside to watch black and white films and eat grapes.

Talking of languid, the picture at the very top of this post shows the other-half (with Lord Snooty) preparing themselves for the hard-core gardening chores ahead.


  1. A) Lord Snooty...have you tried him on freshly cooked chicken's livers or kipper heads?
    B) I think your best bet for garden supervision is to periodically lean out of the loo window and shout "Get orff the mud boy!" - that should work