#cathweegia

[weepingfoxfury]

The Saturday man on the radio had himself a very algorithmic first hour before letting Pat Benatar hit the airwaves with Love is a Battlefield. Weatherwise there was sunshine ... yep ... for about an hour that mysterious glowing orb was up there. Now the rain is setting in and 'the umbrella' is in demand.

The new 'time machine' finally made its way into this realm and has taken its place in the kitchen. Not the same somehow without the concrete mixer sounds the old one had ... but this one lets me open the door on the first go, makes only moderately loud beeping noises and has 'glory lights' inside that illiminate your now hot beverage in such a way you'd think the Pope himself was blessing every drop of coffee.

My one euro wind twirler has been hanging in Cathweegia a good couple of years now, and has definitely taken on many lives. I love how its changed from the pristine wood colour to having all matter of organisms setting up residence. Moss, spiders, aphids, leaves, seed heads. Can't help but wonder if the many legged critters get dizzy as it spins in the wind.

Sometimes I forget it's there. Low hanging as it is, I've lost count of how many times my head and the twirler have collided unexpectedly. Lost count of the spiders that have ended up on my hat from the close encounter. Always amusing to find little legs splayed out Mission Impossible style in front of your eyeballs as you sip coffee.

Mmmmmm coffee ... my cup looks suspiciously close to being empty ... looks like me, my cup and the time machine are about to go for another spin ...

[weepingfoxfury]

Ave Maria is being sung by Hayley Westenra. A few s-adverts and then the man on the radio is playing musical excerpts from Looney Tunes and reading out texts about children who loved the cartoons and took giggling delight in burping the alphabet. The traffic lady talks of Island Road, something to do with Dolphins and debris from a variety of collisions.

Another day of rain and a trip to the shiny metropolis in the offing. You'd think after more than a decade here I'd have sorted out a decent raincoat for myself ... but no.

The curtains are still closed even though I've been up at least 2 hours. Bigger dog (smallest dog's older sister) decided at 6.30am that there was something outside that simply couldn't wait. I obliged with an open back door and then returned to bed with a closed bedroom door. I then lay in the semi dark listening to Signor Floyd as he took the opportunity to enter the kitchen, investigate many, many places and finally he sat outside my door singing the song of his people.

I'll get up soon(ish) ... but, for now, Shirley Bassey is belting out Goldfinger, I'm warm beneath the duvet and all I'm thinking about is the coffee pot.

PS: I was in the shiny metropolis yesterday in the magic middle aisle ... I looked at a weighted blanket and briefly wondered whether I would enjoy such a thing. I then attempted to lift one ... 9kg ... and my eyebrow raised. I disappeared into daydream land, imagined myself beneath such a thing whilst lying in bed, and rapidly came to the conclusion that I have enough difficulty getting out of bed and acquiring coffee. Any further impediments to coffee acquisition would simply never do ...

[Pictures: Cathweegia is bathing in a rare moment of sunshine ... she wonders at my reasoning for hanging 'distressed' dog toys on one of her branches ... and smallest dog, having been and seen all there was to see in the big shed, is now surveying her Queendom, sniffing the air and wondering when her hooman will get the sausages sorted]

[weepingfoxfury]

'Run for home, run as fast as I can' sings Lindisfarne. The man on the radio is talking with the traffic lady ... traffic is busy, busy, busy and backed up as traffic lights are out in different Dublin areas. Wet, wet weather with yellow warnings across the whole island. The amount of rain over the weekend, you might aswell get in your car and stick a couple of oars out the windows.

The wind finally took down the abandoned Rooks' nest. There's the remains of a partially constructed one up there still. The youngsters keep trying to nest in Cathweegia, but it's a bad idea considering both it's isolation from the main community and the fact that my dogs tend to mill around the base.

One pair was successful a few years back. A rare delight to be able to look up through the canopy and watch the chick's progress. Until ... went out early one morning to find the young adult had tumbled out and was on the ground. Phew! That I was out before the dogs.

The parents were calling from an adjacent tree, one outside of the yard area. I picked up the young Rook and popped it near the base of the tree the parents were in. I then returned to the house and watched and waited.

It took ages! So much calling and parental encouragement. The youngster calling in return. I kept an eye out for predators. After about 20 tense minutes the young Rook finally scrambled for the other tree ... haphazardly and slowly made it's way up ... and the reunion was fantastic to watch.

It was an amazing thing to see ... but I have all my fingers crossed that Cathweegia stays empty this year ...

[weepingfoxfury]

Here I am, once again ... in the place I've always been ... with myself ... by myself ... unable to find the door where I came in ...

[weepingfoxfury]

Listening to the birds carrying out road works on our roof tiles ... grubs aplenty as the temperature rose, hungry rooks and blackbirds ripping off the moss ... ice not quite melted in the water butt as the little green islands landed ... first heavy drops of rain, the wind beginning to build and bend trees, Cathweegia's many limbs creaking against one another as Storm Isha flew in ... remembering the days of our mobile home as the walls and roof flexed, hugging the duvet ever tighter, wondering if we'd still be in Kansas at daybreak ...

[weepingfoxfury]

The man on the radio is back! He's back! Obviously the post it note I left for the lost postman did the trick and the man on the radio was able to return through the relevant garden portal. Phew! So ... he's now wending his way through Wednesday and whisking us through a wealth of wild tracks. Weatherwise there's the promise of the usual rain with hints of sunshine and then maybe ... just maybe ... a few places may have a wee bit of lightning, so best put the seaweed away in case combustion occurs. The traffic lady gives out about the usual and from there the conversation turns to Pinky and Perky, whereupon the traffic lady starts singing in Irish alongside the two little pigs as they sing The Hokey Cokey. The man on the radio jokes that standards have obviously slipped in his absence.

Today's groaner: A priest and a Rabbi are very good friends, so they decide to go to a remote lake for a swim. Of course they're swimming naked, as you do. All of a sudden, two busses pull up. Out of one pours the Rabbi's congregation and out of the other pours the Priest's congregation. Their clothes are on the other side of the lake so they don't have time to retrieve them, they just have to make a run for it. The Priest, running with his hands covering his genitals, looks over at the Rabbi and sees him running with his hands over his face. He says, "Rabbi! What are you doing!?" The Rabbi says, "In *my* community, they recognise me by my face." ;-D badoom tish ... here all week!!

Couldn't resist returning to the chandelier. Cathweegia is slowly divesting herself of her finery and there's leaves aplenty to redecorate the landscape and catch my attention. Memories upon memories of fun times with leaves and the critters that reside in the composting pile beneath Cathweegia will be absolutely delighted to add to their home.

Off to the shiny metropolis taking Biggest Dog with me. We both slept well, which was wonderful! Fingers crossed for the results of her scans.

Wednesday, Wednesday, Wednesday ... critters and coffee ahoy! ...

[weepingfoxfury]

The strains of the Flower Duet peter out and the man on the radio is talking about a 17 year old duck called Irma that was given a huge Birthday party by Rhode Island sanctuary. Didn't hear the traffic lady but I think I can take a wild guess at what's going on out there.

Two days of the shiny metropolis ... in-ing and out-ing just seems to take longer these days. Distracted by all manner of shiny things. Always figuring on being efficient, but then there's books (just can't help myself, they call to me), clothes (always looking for the colourful amongst the sea of beige), knick knacks (holy relics, crockery, things that I have absolutely no idea what they are) ... and, of course, I can never just pass by the box marked 'Free'.

The seen better days chandelier that sits outside was in a 'Free' box. Scooped up, brought home, left outside to see what happened.

You can imagine my delight when I noticed that one of Cathweegia's offspring had decided to set up home in this discarded bit of treasure. Very tempted to pop in some extra soil and let it grow ...

[weepingfoxfury]

Strains from 'Gimme Shelter' by the Rolling Stones seep out from the radio in the kitchen to where I'm standing beneath Cathweegia ... her canopy gets ever more sparse as she throws her finery to the ground ... others of her leaves skate across the surface of the water butt before becoming water logged and sinking into the depths for the snails and other pond life to nestle in and feed on over the Winter ... I remember the Moomin tales and wish that I too could eat pine needles and wrap myself in a duvet and sleep and dream until Spring ... smallest dog assures me from beneath the wardrobe in the big shed that she has found just the right spot for me ...

[weepingfoxfury]

Saturday, Saturday, Saturday ... or is it Caturday after all?

This is the old range that rests near the wall that the cats make their way over.

There's a hole to the left, out of sight, that the cats rest up in, in the shade and the cool.

The spiders make their webs ... the sycamore seeds that Cathweegia divests whirlybird around and get caught in the webs ... and the cats' paws come and play with the temporary wind blown toys until the webs break.

Inside and beneath the old range nest rats, mice and shrews, safe in their hiding places whilst the cats sit outside, heads cocked, ears upright, hoping for patience to be rewarded.

Ivy and moss covered, rust decorated, seemingly abandoned ... loved by cats and all manner of critters alike ...

[weepingfoxfury]

The man on the radio is full of Friday fun and obviously looking forward to his weekend. Yet more chocolate has hit his desk and Errol Brown has hit the airwaves. Weatherwise we're being teased with sunshine ... later we'll be tormented with light rain, leading to heavier rain and then we'll need a bigger boat. Too early for both the traffic lady and the chef on the radio ... maybe they're both eating snacks at a service station somewhere.

Well done UK! We're all watching 'this space!'

Today's groaner: what do you call dangerous precipitation? A rain of terror ;-D badoom tish ... here all week!!

Sycamore tree, oh Sycamore tree, your children are many, too many for me. Cathweegia has outdone herself this year ... her offspring have sprung up all over the place. Can't accommodate all of 'em, wish I could. I dream of being able to plant them all far and wide across the Emerald Isle. Only 20% of the trees left here. Why, oh why do people persist in pristine tree free spaces? ... (big sigh).

One of the Hairy Horde is in need of the vet today. Only popped out for 20 minutes the other day ... but enough time for mutt related mischief and mishap. Shiny metropolis here I come again ... hand me my coffee pot and a large straw and I'll be on my Friday way ...

[weepingfoxfury]

There's a hole in my bucket and the rain is pouring down ... the bucket is parked just outside the back door, palest pink and used to belong to a friend of mine ... it sits with the hole angled off the top step and, when the rain pours over the guttering that remains full of Cathweegia's leaves, it spatters and waterfalls down into the holey bucket, out through the hole and streams it's way through the yard and out of the back gate. Eventually the guttering will be cleared, but the bucket will remain, as a portal to all the conversations that I had with a lady that is no longer here ...

[weepingfoxfury]

I hang in Cathweegia, on bad days and good, with spiders for friends, and the man in the wood ...