The Riot Diaries

April 23rd

I’ve been thinking.
No really, I have.
There’s lots of stuff to think about, when you think about it.

Grommart has been thinking too. I can tell by the look of concentration on her face.

April 24th

We finally have a real telephone.

After a year without a phone (other than a ridiculously expensive cell phone from teleCON), finally having the ability to make and receive phone calls is making me quite giddy.

I rang My Mother and ended up getting a bit carried away; before I knew it I’d offered to send her a recipe by email!

She’s having guests. “What on earth shall I cook?” she shrieked down the phone. You’d think My Mother would remember who she is asking, but before I knew what I was doing I was fossocking through a recipe book looking for something even a cookophobe like My Mother could manage.

I was able to find a recipe with only 3 ingredients which I carefully copied complete with spoll chick, or I’d be hearing from My Mother.

As it is I expect a phone call about the grammar.

April 25th

My friend Lynda and I went for a long road ride – about 25km.
I rode the Phantom and Lynda brought her beautiful Arab mare over in a float.

Of course Nibbler (Hoof Hefner) was convinced the mare had come over to see him.
He shouted a greeting, which she ignored.
He paraded up and down the fence line.
She ignored that too.

When I brought the gorgeous golden Phantom out of the paddock, however, she was very interested.

Aura stopped chewing her mouthful of grass and batted her eyes at him as he swaggered up to her. He tossed his mane magnificently and reached out his nose to touch hers, their lips met and he yanked the grass out of her mouth.

“Mmmmm”, he said happily, “Grass”.

Somebody stole a half thawed fish out of the cupboard it had been defrosting in.

When Brent got home, Flossom, whom, it has to be said, has been the main suspect, was quick to race out and tell him all about the saga.
According to Flossom, who has been the only cat to come up with any explanation over the disappearance of the fish at all, the fish turned out to be ‘playing opossum’.

“They do that you know,” she said knowledgeably, snuggling into Brent’s neck.

“Really?” said Brent, placing her gently on the ground, “then what happened?”

“Um, well”, said Flossom thoughtfully, “it went outside, stole a car and drove off to meet some friends for a coffee”.
Brent believes her. “Look at her dear little face”, he said, “Of course she’s telling the truth”.

Zeuss looked at me, “Helloooo”, he said, “Is he using the same drugs Flossom seems to be on?”
I rolled my eyes.

“Everybody knows”, he continued, “that fish don’t drink coffee”.

April 28th

Flossom greeted us this morning with a cheery chirp from the laundry basket on the floor of the bedroom.
We both did a double take.

She was looking at us over the rim of the basket, with, what appeared to be a pair of underpants perched comically on her head.
“I could do with a snack”, she said.
“Flossom”, I said, “why are you wearing a pair of underpants on your head?”
“It’s a hat”.
“What on earth would you be wanting to wear a hat for?”
“Because I’m worth it” she said.

April 29th

Zeuss was perched on the end of the bed watching me get dressed.

“I think someone’s been eating a little too much Festive Ham”, he said pointedly as I squeezed into my jeans.

“Too many Num Nums”, he said puffing out his cheek pouches.

“Chaffing down the Chow Chow”, he added just before being ejected out the window.

He’s right of course. Since I got spayed, there now appears to be two of me squeezed into one suit.

I really must stop eating and get back to the gym in that order.

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