Warm thanks on a cold sunny day

She was out in the garden today taking photos of blue sky and flowers and thinking of work when She heard voices. Glyn had come home for the day yesterday, to stay overnight for the first time in months. And She had been worried because Nadolig had been away for a few days. We knew Glyn was coming, so sent word out across the field, and the birds and the butterflies, moths and lizards, all carried the word to Nadolig to come home.

Sure enough, She went round to say hi, and there was the pied cat, stratched out in the cold sun.

And Glyn asked that She send out a message to all those who had sent cards, and drawings and paintings to him. He wanted to say a very warm thank you, for these have kept him going through dark days. And we say thank you too, kind thoughts and gift from strangers have touched and warmed all of our heart.

We hope that next week Glyn will be back to stay. We hope so. The village is not the same without him.

Elmo's day.

Went walking. Hot day. Lay in a shadey spot.

Back home, chilled out with a few friends.

Dragon's nest.

Up the hill in the sunshine, cold in the wind on a bright day in May, Elmo went walking, and climbing, for, in a tangle of twigs in a wind blown tree he found a nest.

On reflection though, careful consideration of the size of the nest, Elmo decided that it probably belonged to a dragon not a bird. And it wasn't that Elmo was afraid, because Elmo's don't get scared, he said. It was more that dragons are sacred to cats. So he paid short homage to the twig pile, and descended once more to the green, that set off his beautiful fire coloured coat. ( Fire, he said, to honour the dragon flames for it would seem, according to Elmo, that ginger cats are sacred to dragons too)

So, after a short but perfect balancing act it was time to take Her back to Her studio. She is painting cats.

Summoning

First, early morning light through apple blossom, bluebells. She has too much work to do, but part of this work should be walking and dreaming. So She takes the bowl from the studio and we head up the hill together, woman, three dogs, bowl and me, Pixie.

The morning now is green grass and sunshine, east wind, early.

On top of the hill we wander and look and sniff and listen, and then it begins, a strange noise, a humming, a rising summoning of dragons. The wind still blows and carries the bowl's song, throwing it high into the air with the skylark exultation and even when She stops the bowl goes on, and on, and on. Beautiful, with the sea song, bird song, wind song, bowl song.

And did they come, on wings of fire blazing glory across a blue sky? Wait, and watch, and see. But most of all........... listen.

 

Secretary cat.

The phone rang. She was eating lunch, so Pixie answered it. She, that is Pixie, had a brief chat with John from The Imagine Gallery. Seems that he was trying to hang a drawing when someone came and saved him the trouble and bought it. Pixie mewed a few times then put the phone down. She is so lucky to have a ginger cat secretary. We think it is about time She started drawing cats.

Wild Horses

It would seem that once again She is in a competition. One of the photos, from Our blog but decidedly lacking in the purest scrap of ginger, has been picked up by a Facebook group. So, if you are on Facebook pop over on this link and vote for Her. Poor dear. She needs all the encouragement She can get, especialy since She lost the camera it was taken with and when it turned up it had been run over by a car or two. Flat camera.

Catmint.

Elmo: Hide your face quick. I don't think she's noticed.

Maurice: I think She put it there because She knows how much we like it.

Elmo: Ppppprrrrrrrrrrrr. Ppppprrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

Later the same morning:

Elmo: Don't you just love the way the morning light slants through dirty windows? Pixie, your my best pal.