Spring may be around the corner (hopefully!), but there was yet more snow for many parts of the country this week. Us South Londoners escaped with just a couple of centimetres, which fell overnight on Sunday. But, believe me, just a sprinkling of the white stuff was enough to whip Eric into a fury on Monday morning; and to make matters worse, he came face-to-face with his nemesis, The Cat Next Door – fondly nicknamed Satan by myself and other cat-owning neighbours. (Once again, apols for the language – but you know what he gets like!)
“Fack off aht of it, you fackin’ cloven-hooved fackin’ freak!”
I’m pleased to report that The Dark Lord then slunk back to his lair, using the time-honoured cat method of the Slow Motion Walk of Shame.
“And fackin’ stay aht of it!”
On a lighter note, this morning there was a noticable rise in temperature, and a few minutes of watery sunshine. So while I was out taking Eric for his constitutional spray and swear around the garden, I thought I’d look for the first signs of spring. And, happily, I wasn’t disappointed: a few plants are beginning to come to life, and it was even warm enough for Mrs Fox to take a nap on a neighbour’s shed roof.
A couple of the ladies decided to grace us with their presence this fine morning. Beryl grabbed prime Cat/Flowers Photo Opportunity Position – and looked quite smug about it!
And Martha discovered something lovely and smelly (and no doubt very unsavoury) to roll around in.