I do not know this cat’s name, but he lives at Blackmore Farm, a fantastic 15th century manor house. His people do dinners for guests sufficiently far-sighted to organize themselves into a group of about 25, and book some months in advance. The guests are entertained in the great hall. They bring their own wine, they are served delicious food and there are unlimited puddings. There are pointy things, suits of armour, and the heads of dead things on the walls, and several cannon balls and mortar shells around the enormous hearth. Sir Cat comes in to check that all is done correctly, and strikes a pose with a nonchalantly lifted front paw.
The Cat of Blackmore
Here is the drawing I did last year, of Sir Cat’s great hall. It doesn’t do the hall justice: on the opposite wall there were far older pointy things than a couple of rifles with bayonets, but there is only so much a person can draw in one sitting without appearing antisocial….
Arthur is thinking outside the boxes. He is mildly surprised that none of these particular boxes will accommodate him today but he feels that perhaps they need time to mature, so he is content to sit on the boxes and contemplate geometry until they see fit to be the correct way up.
Being an artist, I can actually say “Come up and see my Etchings”, and mean actual etchings. Arthur has decided to Guard them this weekend. He needs to get guarding in at the weekend at the moment since we still have a house full of plumbers on work days, but he feels if he guards them well enough when he has the chance they will then be safe for the rest of the week.
A sudden chilly and damp day following weeks of guarding the veg patch. On days like this it is important to remember that doormats require occasional guarding. This is best done, however, with the door open so that outside can also be guarded from a safe vantage point, in case outside needs assistance when it stops raining.