Silent Sunday

Silent Sunday


Minxy Mog

How do you solve a problem like Sophie?

Cats choose don’t they, that is how they are.  Our ginger tabby Sophie is a rescue cat, we found her at Bath Cats and Dogs home aged 4 – they think, her coat was falling out in places and she was half starved, as we walked past she chirped her talkative meow and my other half was besotted.  Her brother was there too but as we already had a kitten – my Pippa, we only wanted one, I still wish we has taken him too…

When we got her home she was pleased to see our old dog Bouncer and they ignored each other beautifully from then on, Pippa was an abhorrence to her though, my 4 month old kitten charged about the place and tried to play with Sophie and she wore a mask of distaste on her face for ages.

Well, it’s 8 years on and Sophie has stayed with us, I always thought she might take up and leave one day as she is so independently minded.  As each baby arrived she took the screaming bundles in her big loping stride, usually out of the window.   Bouncer died and after looking for him and being unable to find him  she got on with it, who knows what she really thought but then a disaster shook her comfy little world – the world of both of the cats really, we came home with Poppy, a border collie puppy.

Poppy isn’t fitting into our world as well as we thought.  She chases the cats relentlessly, she knocks over the children, has eaten my kitchen units, for the first 9 months she chewed anything she could get in her mouth.  Turn your back and she will have the dinner off the table… I’m sure most of this is our fault, we thought Poppy would slot in where Bouncer left, of course she needs training and lots of walking, she was one last week and I must admit I despair, there is something every day – today she had one of my tops off the washing line..

And Sophie has left home.

She has “moved” 3 doors up the road to all intents and purposes, they have a covered porch by their back door and there is a cat basket on a cupboard for their own cats which she has purloined and the lady living there thinks she is marvelous and has been feeding her – why should she come home to this mad house?

It’s been about 2 months since I first requested that they don’t feed our cat and I think I have got there eventually, Sophie does come home for her supper albeit begrudgingly, once in she stays in overnight, they always have there are enough cat fights on this estate all night without our two joining in.  This week in the morning once the window is open, Pippa shot out as normal. Sophie has been sitting on the window sill for a bit and not rushing off. Progress? We shall see…

Has anyone else had this problem? Any advice?

The Gallery’s week off…

I love joining in with the Gallery, Tara’s having a week off so I thought I would show you some pictures from my kitchen wall that I see every day an make me chuckle – they are not photo’s so would probably would never qualify for the real gallery. I hope you enjoy them too.

This is how it is in our house since Pippa and Sophie cats arrived, we have a large bed but it never feels like it, we are regularly “cat-ed”

This always made me think more of my Mother and Grandmother than my Mother and I, I think my generation are so much less required to be chained to chores and of course we have many more gadgets…  Occasionally my Mum surprises me with tales of when we were children and the level of work she was obliged to perform, I remember the revolutionary washing machine and spinner that she used to spend many hot steamy hours over and the way dinner was always on the table when Dad got home regardless of what was happening…

This ode has been my mantra for so long, the author is unknown, I’d love to know who wrote it, I owe her!

If you did your own non gallery post this week I would love to see it, please post a comment with a link so I can take a peek!


After living with myself for 39 and a half years I know when I’m getting so wound up and depressed about “stuff” that I’m about to take a pop at someone, since I am so useless at that as well and always end up feeling even more insignificant and hopeless having achieved nothing, I’m going to attack this feeling from a different direction. I’m going to count some of my blessings…

Health, I’m healthy – over weight yes, but healthy enough, last year I spent a long time in Physio with a bruised coccyx and a sprained ankle with torn ligaments. All seems fine this year, as soon as I manage to get little him into nursery the same time as his sister I’m going to be much more active, cycling, walking and swimming. That should help with the depression angle too, I have a tendency towards downward spirals, I often see them coming and can take steps towards lifting myself up, I am lucky in that respect too

The kids are healthy too, they both get eczema but it’s controllable, they eat loads of fruit and although he is starting to test the water of refusal he mostly enjoys a wide variety of foods and will try new things. She has always eaten well but often will not try new things, she can be bribed though, he he.

Himself is fairly healthy, smoking aside, he finds his hours and the driving a strain some weeks and it takes him longer to bounce back but I think he is ok.

Wealth, well we are not wealthy at all but we get by and manage to stay on top of the bills. I’m a stay at home Mum which is what I wanted for my children, especially pre- school. We have our own house, we can do our own basic maintenance without having to hire someone, it’s knocked about a bit at the moment thanks to having two under 4’s a puppy and 2 cats as can be expected!

We have some Mummy and Daddy toys, cable TV, two laptops and a Wii; the kids have toys falling out of their rooms because there are so many.

After a worrying time in the last few years where Daddy had to take a pay cut and a reduction of hours his work does seem to have picked up again and he is good at his job, I don’t think you can ever be blasé about job security anymore; thankfully it’s not a pressing worry.

We can’t afford to go abroad this year for a holiday and hiring a self catering cottage in the UK is even more expensive, our holiday will be house sitting for my brother in law up in Yorkshire, I’m looking forward to it and hope that their dog and our Poppy do actually get on!

In the loft we have almost everything for a camping holiday and I fully intend to get it all out and air it soon then book us a weekend not too far away where we can get some fresh air (late night and early morning too with the kids!)

We have a car that works, as much as we bemoan the passing of our beloved Ford Explorer it is good to be able to afford to drive somewhere again, we think we might trade in our C4 for another 4×4 next year, we miss the driving height, the copious storage and frankly – going off road!

And the hot tub is running – bonus!

Are we happy? Mostly I think, that is a tough commodity to measure, my husband has been my best friend for years, we enjoy each other’s company and after being together 13 years there is still love and passion… The smalls seem happy too as much as smalls can! We get our fair share of tantrums and “crying at not getting own way” Little miss is in line for an Oscar next year for at least 3 categories, he stamps his foot and shouts “NO” without thinking, listening or comprehending what is going on or being asked of him.

The smalls are a blessing in themselves – every moment. The Litle miss is bright and picks things up quickly, she’s not over achieving by any measure which is fine by me.. She has the face of an angel and she uses it so expressively she can have you in stitches (she does get miffed with people stifling giggles while she tries to explain something.) The little man is the cuddliest little man, he is a tornado of movement and destruction and you get to a point of desperation with the house wrecked, stuff everywhere and then he says “ahhh, Mummy” and I get a huge cuddle. What’s a Mum supposed to do in the face of that!

These are only some of my blessings, I know that, there are many more but now I feel a little less frustrated at life I’m going to stop because you never know when I may need to count some more in the future.

Things that go bump in the night

Rolling over in bed last night I woke up with a start when I met with someone on my left side that wasn’t a cat, (bad habit but Pippy often curls up in my left arm, she was my first baby) the beloved daughter had got into bed next to me while I was asleep, this is unusual for her, if she wakes in the night she normally will shake me until I wake, that’s if the fact she is moving about doesn’t trigger that “Mummyalert” I seem to have built in.

Looking at my clock it said 1.42am – groan, “what’s up” said I, “I can’t sleep” said she, right, back to bed for her, she got back in her own bed snuggled down with teddy and was asleep within a minute, bless.

It got me thinking about the sleep deprivation thing though, from about 4 months pregnant with her I had terrible trouble sleeping, I moved into the then spare room because I was competing with the husband for fog horn of the year, the running back and forth from the bathroom due to lack of bladder space, trying to get through the working day with so little sleep.  Pregnancy with my son had all that plus the most colourful and exciting dreams ( I miss those!).  It was all preparation for the marathon of breast on demand really wasn’t it…

My husband didn’t ever do night feeds, yep, I could have expressed like the best but firstly it would have been me shaking him awake for an hour to get up and do it – pointless exercise,  secondly, he drives for most of the 13 – 15 hours he’s at work every day and I do need him to come home in one piece so that was that, thirdly and on reflection only, I don’t think I would have wanted to miss all those small wee hours of the night snuggling my little bundle of joy, now they both seem so huge and you can never get it back, it didn’t last long enough.

Actually off topic for a second, I wish I could go back to when my daughter was a newborn, I was in such a frenzy of the unknown I was too scared to make the most of that time….. While the time machine is here, 1996 was a very fine year, can I take Rob Pattinson back with me?

My two generally sleep fine, the little miss likes her structured evening routine 7.15pm jimjammin, bed, story, 3 songs, cd player on, night light – she plays for a while up there sometimes and we do get the odd visit downstairs.  He is sooo different, he has always been a sensory deprivation baby, no music, no light, if there is any kind of “entertainment”  he won’t sleep, he has never slept in his buggy or car seat much for this reason.  He gets a bed time song and a cuddle, into bed and asleep.  Sometimes I here him cooing to his teddy, but not often.  Yes, mostly they do sleep though until at least 5am, but I don’t – which brings us back to the “mummyalert”

I once read about a mother who slept through a huge earthquake only to wake at the end of it because her baby started crying.  It’s so like that isn’t it.  As I said before, my husband is rather loud in the snoring department and sometimes he does wake me but mostly he doesn’t, Pippa cat is up and down like a yoyo at night, I think she is an undercover Secret Agent Cat because she keeps a watch out the windows at various times – I am not disturbed by this much, my son talking or whimpering in his sleep in the next room will wake me every time! Bing! Awake!

After her early morning ramble she slept through until 7.30, how pleasant, the husband got up at 5.30am a lie in for him and he was shouting “Mummy” at 7, all in all not a bad start to the day.