A fearful day.

Elmo did not come for supper last night.
Elmo did not come for breakfast this morning.
So, when Elmo did not come for supper again this evening She got very worried.
First call, to see Mr Griffiths. He had said that Nadolig had been away for a few days and sometimes the we take it in turns to stay with him and keep him company.
Glyn was well, enjoying the sunshine, but no, he had not seen a ginger for a few days.
So, with fearful heart She went off to look. She called, and She called, and peered in through a gap in the door of a shed. No sign.
And then She heard it.
Miaow.
She looked around.
No cat.
MIAOW.
From inside the shed, the biggest big shed, the call came.
MIAOW MIAOW MIAOW.
So now She has gone to get Nick or Hannah, to the farm where Fred lives, to get the key to open the door, to let Elmo out. And we are glad, because Elmo will only be hungry when he comes out, and he will still be ginger and beautiful, though a little bit dusty.


An hour later with key in hand and Elmo yowling like an opera singing cat on the other side She opened the door and out he came.

He told Max he had followed a butterfly in there.
He told Maurice he was chased by a monster.
He told Kiffer that a sheep had called to him and when he went inside had shut the door on him.
He told Martha that he was chasing a mouse that ran in.
And he told me that he had wandered in out of Curiosity and then got scared when the farmer came and hid until he went away and then found that the door had disappeared.
And I told him he was lucky, because we all know about Curiosity and what it did to the cat.
But we are all glad to have him back.
Naughty Elmo.

The Blossom Moon

The Blossom moon follows close behind the sun so that even as the sun has set the moon has almost completed her path across the sky to set also.
Her crescent hangs so beautiful in the almost night sky with stars and still a faint kiss of light from the sun in the far west.
Aerymice flit, flickering the starlight with dark wings.
In the balance of deep gloaming light we gingers are almost invisible.
In the balance of deep gloaming light the crescent of the Blossom moon glows. We can see the crescent, a cats claw of white, and we can see the whole of the moon. It is beautiful.

Brownielocks and the three gingers

Let me in, let me in, by the hairs on my chinny chin chin, or I will huff and puff and blow your house down.

Starlight on a gray day

So, it happened like this. Many moons ago She had an email from a tv company who were making a program about cats. They wanted to know if we would walk with their presenter. They wanted to know if we would walk for cameras. She said, "I don't know. I will ask them." So She asked us and we said we might and She phoned them, and passed our message on.
Next the Lucy lady came. The sun shone on a blue sky day and we walked up the hill and charmed the Lucy lady. Away She went and a date was made, but then the presenter lady had to go and have tea with the Queen. Imagine, turning down walking with us to go and have tea with the Queen. Well, a cat can look at a king they say, though why one would want to we can't imagine. Surely a better saying would be that a king can look at a cat? Anyway, we forgave her, and another date was made, this time the Queen had tea with someone else.
On Wednesday morning the sun did not shine but the lady came, and brought cameras and sound, lots of people and they all went into Her studio and we were invited in too. Now, usually if we sneak in to give Her a hand She chases us out and rude words are spoken, so imagine our delight when She was all welcoming words and cuddles and treats.
She talked a lot of nonsense about painting and books and we prowled around and had treats and walked over books and looked bright and orange and beautiful for the cameras. And the lady was beautiful and elegant and feline with a voice as smooth as milk.
Then after a while it was time to walk, up the green lane and over the hill, slow walking, Maurice was shy, but at the top of the hill we sat together in the shadow of the wind. And though it was gray the view was beautiful. And though it was gray the violets shone in the grass and the gorse glowed golden. And though it was gray the presenter lady shone like a rainbow star. Because she is. A star.

And they tell us that the program, all about cats, is called Catwoman and will be on television in September.

Rosie Posie learns new skills.

I am the puppy, and I am almost a dog. This week I learnt
1. What a rabbit smells like but not what a rabbit looks like.
2. How to jump over puddles.
3. How to chase birds.
4. That I do not have wings.
5. How to pull four slices of bacon out of the grill, when it is on, and not get my nose burnt.
I did not however, learn how not to get caught doing this and as a result lost out on the two slices remaining.

Absolutely Fabulous.

Halen: Well, I don't know. First all these people and then She lets the cats in and lets them walk all over Her books! Whatever next!
Pupur: Yes. Usually if the ginger ones get in the language becomes a bit choice. She seemed quite relaxed about it all. And who was that beautiful lady?
Halen: I don't know darling, but she was absolutely fabulous, don't you think!
Pupur: She went off walking with them, up the hill and over. What was that all about?

Pixie: We know. Tell you later! Now, I forget again. Was it look at the camera, or don't look at the camera?

Evening light bright on ginger, walking on violets

That kind of day

It was a slow days walking in pale sunshine when Elmo and Maurice lay in ambush on the hillside. Birds flew past below them. Elmo whispered secrets to Maurice. Nobody moved much at all. It was just that kind of a day.

The cat of the woods

In the woods at Abermawr a cat walks.

Now the leaves are flushing green with the new life of spring, but some still hold an echo of autumn colour that mirrors the dappled cat's coat.

On stealthy paws she walks the woodland paths, through the wood anenomes, the bluebells, the celandine, campion and stitchwort, down to the pebble beach where the sea breath in and out, turning and tumbling the pebbles to smoothness. Sea song and birdsong fill her days. She is the cat of the woods.

Lights, camera, action

Pixie: Now then, did they say look at the camera, or DON'T look at the camera?

Cat curl, cat dreams and ginger.

It is a day of gray sky and flat light after days of brilliant blue and cloudless and today we are told that some people are coming with cameras to walk with us. Well, we shall see about that. We are cats and we walk if we want to. In the meantime we shall sleep and wait.
Outside the birds are singing their morning song. Inside we curl. But one cat curls where a cat should not be having crept on stealthy paws up the ladder stairs and into the loft where a new bed promises wild dreams of walking with wolves.
We may walk with the cameras. And even though the sky is dark and the light is flat ginger fur will always shine the brightest.

Thought full.

After days of clear sky and falling stars they shine now, a dim light through cloud patches. As we walk the night time bounds of the village the sweep of warning from the lighthouse is a murmur of light. Each step becomes lost in thought as we interrogate the silence in search of small truths and the night songs of mice, moth and bat.

Night song on a damp air night

Tonight we walk in the darkest of nights where not a star shines down. No moon. Only the steady sweep of lighthouse warning of treacherous rocks, smurred and smudged by the dark, moist night.
And the night smells of earth, raw earth, and yellow gorse, pale scented, not rich like the thick, golden scent of gorse in sunshine. The white blackthorn leaves a faint star-shine of scent hanging in the still night air.
We walk the village bounds and hear the cries of night birds, the alarm of geese disturbed from sleep, the distant dog bark from the farm across fields, and behind it all the ever constant song of the sea.

Rain drop dripping lullaby

Outside in the dark the rain has washed away all starlight from the sky. Dogs and Elmo returned from night time walking with diamond raindrops soaking in their fur. Maybe tomorrow the sun will shine, but for now we listen to rain song on roof and windows, a lullaby of water.

Heaven in the attic

On the roof you can look down and watch the birds fly.
It was a blue-sky-and-sunshine-day when I decided to go up for a bit of birdwatching and found a hole in the roof.

Inside the new room was coming along lovely, with shelves and things and tables and paints.

First thing in was the owls and the kingfisher, beautiful bright blue bird.

The floor is wonderful for slipping and sliding and batting and rolling. There are places to hide and to jump and to sit and to watch.

Out of the window the trees are now white with blossom on black branches, and the green field is dotted with sheep and lambs.

Magic. Was it there all along?

On reflection...

...it would seem that ginger shines very well against a bit of gold, and this dragon's eye seems to be of just the perfect colour.