The central heating is not yet on, though I’m inclined to think it might be soon, but the log burner has been in good use for the last couple of weeks. Percy has discovered a long-lost-love: the beanbag fell out of favour some time ago but its strategic placement in front of the log burner has won his heart.
Merrymakers, make merry quietly.
Revellers, revel softly.
First Footers, please enter in your slippers.
See in the New Year for me please, and bid it wait until breakfast, when I shall be ready to greet it.
Yesterday I had a visitor at 2am, at the open door of my bedroom no less. Percy went out to have words. It was Percy’s words which woke me up, but this is the way he tells it, and considering there was a chunk of Percy’s fur outside my door this morning, his tale is probably accurate.
It was Bad Frank. Frank is quite fat, and very, very bad. He lives two doors down: a fact which Percy has to remind Bad Frank of on a regular basis.
Do not think that this greenhouse vigil is because it is warm and sunny in here, nor even because of the nice blanket one finds discarded by a careless owner. It is because of the frail and vulnerable Aubergine seedlings that one has discovered yet again stand out here without protection. Two nights ago one’s human forgot them entirely and left them out all night and they almost died, so one has to ask, if one’s human forgets the Aubergines, what else might be forgotten?
Percy is flashing his toes whilst having a wash. It’s probably very provocative in cat-language.
Tony and the cats were enjoying the log burner. I’m not saying it was hot in there, but the cats were beginning to melt…
Please note that no cats were in fact melted in the process of making this drawing.
This is Percy’s favourite cushion. There are several other cushions, but Percy’s white hairs whisper to him and tell him this is the one to sit on; all the other cushions are white, or pale coloured.
Percy is in possession of a very fine set of long white legs, and usually makes sure a few of them are well-displayed when lounging about, just in case anyone had failed to notice already.
It is Sunday, which means that one can have a lazy snooze and leisurely ablutions on the sofa, in the knowledge that no builders, plumbers or other ne’er-do-wells will disturb one’s peace until tomorrow morning. True, the humans seem to have been very busy today and there is a noticeable lack of… well… everything, in two rooms of the house now. but they are one’s personal humans and so relatively trustworthy.
The awkward place in question is not in fact a part of Percy, it is the fact that he insists on attempting this process whilst wedged in his current favourite yellow box of second-hand jiffy envelopes…