So on the day we were expecting the first visit from Mom and Pops to the Gordon’s Bay Lotter stronghold in absolute ages, guess what happened?
Well, as I should have known, I strolled past the bathroom in the morning, only to recoil in horror as the sight inside caught my unsuspecting eye. Yup, an absolute bloody explosion of feathers and bird bits covered the floor of our guest bathroom.
So one clean-up later, and with everything good to go, I get a shout to come outside from Chantelle. And there, by the outside braai, is Chantelle and the small Mossie she had plucked to freedom away from the cats. The little bird was still a young chick, unable to fly, and unfortunately, now very far away from its a) nest and b) protective parents.
Unfortunately, with no real alternative open to us, Chantelle carefully placed the Mossie into a tree and shooed the cats away, but as we expected, the minute our backs were turned the chick was turned into chow.
Nature is pretty cruel that way sometimes.
Although we haven’t gotten around to setting up and beautifying Jessica’s baby room just yet, we do at least have all the furniture in place, you know, the big things like the compactum and cot, and of course the all important rocking chair which will most certainly be used on a daily basis by Chantelle and little Jessie.
Now of course, in order to ensure that the rocking chair will in fact handle this dual load, it needs to be properly tested of course.
Enter Achilles and Olympus…
The one thing I am probably the most relieved about after moving all our furniture into the new house is without a doubt the fact that our brilliant, beautiful queen-sized bed actually fits in our rather small bedroom – but leaving enough space that I can actually walk all the way around it and don’t have to bother Chantelle by doing graceful tuck and roll dives through the air and over her to get to my side of the bed.
(I let her have the side closest to the en-suite toilet. Strategic thinking on my part you see.)
Anyway perhaps not the best of photos for you to see how the bedroom currently looks, but note the beautifully light clay coloured walls painted by yours truly, the delightful suede headboard, the nifty, stylish new bedside lamps on the new (obscured) bedside tables, all complemented by the all important queen-sized bed, draped completely in fluffy white.
Just like a proper guest house room if you ask me (and anyone else who has seen it already).
Oh, and instead of chocolates at the end of the bed, you get your very own furry water bottle for those cold winter nights!
Seriously. Is this luxury or what? :P
It started a little while ago with Achilles who out of the blue started sneezing. This got progressively worse, more snotty and he basically just lost all energy, literally just lying there and meowing in protest if you so much as touched his obviously sore body.
Chantelle took him through to the vet who checked him out and pronounced him as to be suffering from the “sniffles”, something that is going around Gordon’s Bay at the moment and is particularly infectious amongst cats. Not something to worry about, but certainly something that needs treating. So injections, tablets and special food, not to mention the forcefeeding by means of syringes all kicked off and slowly but surely we’ve seen this rather sorry for himself kitty start to build up his strength again.
Of course, this hasn’t come without a price, because somewhere in the middle of all of this Olympus also seems to have picked up the bug and although not affected quite as strongly as Achilles was, our black boy has certainly lost a fair bit of his energy and is unhappily sneezing and coughing away.
So another trip to the vet in other words.
And on that note, I really am impressed with the Cottage Veterinary Clinic here in GB. Lovely staff and a great vet, always a pleasure to take the cats there, but damn, treating cats sure is expensive. Just two visits and I’m already R800 down, in what is not exactly the best of financial times during the life of Craig.
Sigh, no wonder I don’t visit a doctor for myself, even if I’m feeling like Death warmed over…
Thanks to some superb, night time wildlife photography, I at last have some concrete evidence as to why getting into bed is just so darn difficult on those late nights when I choose to stay up a little later fiddling with blog posts or twitching my thumbs over a game controller.
As you can see from these masterful shots below, that apart from Chantelle’s sprawling legs blocking most of the bottom half of the bed, I then have to contend with two other sleeping carcasses, neatly arranged in all the remaining open space, meaning that should I be able to get my top half in bed, I’ll then have to sleep with my legs straight up in the air.
Which doesn’t sound particularly comfortable.
So now you know. It’s dangerous choosing to only go to bed after everyone is already fast asleep! :)
(Apologies for the poor photo quality by the way. The Samsung Star isn’t particularly adept at taking great photos. Heck, the designers haven’t even heard of a thing called a flash by the look of things! :P)
The other night saw a tired Chantelle and I finally retire to bed just before midnight after having successfully returned from a Ster Kinekor screening of It’s Complicated (which by the way is a thoroughly enjoyable movie in case you were wondering).
Anyhow, as it had been for the last couple of days, the wind was absolutely howling outside, once again determined to make living quite miserable and in which of course does succeed… particularly when we’re talking about the cats.
You see, our dear darlings Olympus and Achilles can’t exactly spend much time running around, hunting and playing outside without being blown from the one end of the property to the other and so they’re pretty much pinned inside for the whole day – which of course translates to a hell of a lot of pent up energy come the evening and in other words our return to the home.
Needless to say, this pent up energy immediately manifests itself in play time and so Chantelle and I need to do our evening’s business while carefully stepping over the usually rolling around and kicking combined fur ball entanglement that is Olympus versus Achilles.
So teeth brushed and book pages turned, we turned off the lights and lay our heads down… when all of a sudden, out of the complete blue, the sound of frenzied paws gripping along the carpet accompanied this fast flying bundle of fur through the air, paws streched out and claws extended – landing in a heap on top of our unsuspecting, blissfully unaware heads!!
Luckily for me my arm was kind of hanging over my head so that took the brunt of the scratch attack but poor Chantelle was not quite so lucky, even going so far as suffering some bleeding from her scalp! Nothing major of course, but unnecessarily sharp, painful and a rather rude awakening one must say.
So up we sprang, grabbed our spectacles and flipped on the lights, hunting down the two miscreants who had of course bolted back to the lounge following our initial surprised outburst. Of course catching the little buggers to give them a smack and throw them out of the front door quickly proved to be quite the pointless exercise as they didn’t really take our angry demeanours very seriously and simply kept walking back in right after you scooted them out, meaning that in the end we simply had to give up and returned to our room where we closed the door for the night.
(Cutely enough, the two of them were found lying stretched out in front of our bedroom door the next morning of course…)
I’m not a great theatre lover, I’ll easily admit to that, but I do agree that there are some theatre productions and musicals that one simply has to see during their lifetime, as simple as that. And having already seen Phantom and the Opera when it was brought to the Artscape a couple of years ago, it was no surprise to find myself being dragged through to Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Cats last Thursday evening in the company of my dearest wife and the rest of the Montgomery horde! :P
Despite being nearly at the end of its run, the play was proving to be as popular as ever and on entry we discovered that there was literally not an empty seat in the house – row upon row of people packed the auditorium as we settled back to enjoy the show. The stage had been transformed into a wondrous junkyard full of oversized junk featuring everyday items like tennis raquets and discarded tins, with dart holes and little dank corridors permeating every nook and cranny. Dotted in amongst this plethora of rubbish was a veritable forest of lighting and special effects gadgets in place, as come the actual show, you as the viewer were to be bombarded by a constant stream of excellent lighting and special effects trickery!
Now as for the musical itself, you must understand that I found it rather nonsensical and quite pointless at that, trying to weave in a whole lot of pointless information and attempting to tie it all up as a story – but then I guess you didn’t really come to this particular production for that now did you? As for the musical numbers, while most are rather forgettable and certainly don’t rank amongst Andrew Lloyd Webber’s best, you would be silly not to recognise one of his greatest compositions that does indeed worm its way into this particular play – and that is the sensational “Memories” of course, performed more than ably in this particular production it must be said.
Actually, on that note, all the musical numbers throughout the musical (apart from the one or two performed by that Brit with the screechy, high-pitched voice) were particularly well executed, though I must just make one small gripe (still ignoring that woman), this one being directed at the black operatic singer cast as the old Deuteronomy. Unfortunately his accent was so overbearing it was difficult to make out what he was singing about, leading to a horrible break in the story as you simply couldn’t follow what he was trying to tell you! So in other words, not cool at all.
As for the dancing however, man was the cast ever so spectacular. With twists, twirls, lifts and tumbles, the cast put in a stellar acrobatic performance that captured the lively energy of Cats to perfection and kept the audiences’ eyes glued firmly to the stage – all of which combined with some excellent musical performances, production values and special effects to make for a particularly smooth, polished and professional production.
Oh, and don’t forget the fantastic, if a little outlandish costumes and make-up that adorned each “cat”. Absolutely fantastic work done in that department, believe you me!
The show was a long one, breaking once about halfway in at the hour and a half mark, and as is the custom, some of the cats came to play in amongst the crowd, providing plenty of laughs and more than a couple of startles as well! :)
Overall though, I must say outside of the high production value of this yet again quality Pieter Toerien presentation, Cats left me feeling… well a little disappointed. Yes, it was excellent in every aspect of its presentation and acting, but the play is pretty meh as far as I am concerned. It’s whimsical and doesn’t really go anywhere, hurries to a conclusion and is quite frankly, quickly forgotten. (But I guess I’m in the minority on this one, seeing as it is one of the longest running plays across the world, so I’ll just shake my head and accept that I suppose.)
Still, at least I can now say that I have seen it in my lifetime – and hopefully now will never have to cross paths with it ever again! :P
So I got presented with my first ‘kill’ last night while I slept – I woke up this morning and one of the two kitties had dropped off their play spider on my chest during the night. Of course, waking up to something furry lying on your chest (and it isn’t big enough to be a cat) is never fun.
I’m almost terrified for when they do begin to catch pigeons now…