Assorted Flavours? Sorted!

Recently a combined team of chemists from the Royal Society of Chemistry and Keele University descended on the courtyard of Burlington House in Piccadilly.

Why?

To carry out a taste-test on Cadbury's and Hershey's chocolate bars, as part of the Royal Society of Chemistry's ‘Food 2009’ survey of food production, transportation, storage, consumption and waste.

300 members of the public from around the world, (almost 200 of whom were raised outside of the UK), were handed squares of American Hershey Bar and British Cadbury Bar chocolate.

Results showed that 74% preferred Cadbury’s and 26% preferred Hershey's.

And of those raised in North America 71% preferred Cadbury’s!

Go Cadbury!!!

Under Seige - or - The Battle of the Greenhouse

This week I am reporting on the Battle of the Greenhouse - The latest bulletin on those skinny old bags of bones.

Burke and Hare…

Burke and Hare are very affectionate and cry to be fussed whenever I go into the gar

den. The slightest attention sends them into deliriums of joy.

But they are also consumate claim jumpers - who appear to feel that - failing all attempts to move into the house – taking over the greenhouse is next best thing.

Which would not be a problem if they did not swear at me every time I go in to water my veg!

Apparently watering pots on the greenhouse staging - when they are kipping underneath - is not appreciated... but as they are always there its that or let my plants die of thirst. And worse? They are now treating one corner as a potty... which is not good for for my tomatoes I can tell you! -

Though possibly some sort of statement on Burke and Hare's parts ref. the enforced cold showers...

But the war raging over possession of the Greenhouse is as nothing compared with the veritable siege being waged on the house.

They grow bolder by the day!!

I can no longer leave a door or window open for even a few minutes - by the slightest chink – or they are in!

When I call Obi, Betty and Dilly in to eat I have to take a head count as they race past, or else find all five seated by the kitchen counter waiting for their supper.

I am starting to feel like a club bouncer as I utilise all the defensive tactics at my disposal (barricades, water pistols, yard brooms etc ) to dissuade these old darlings from rushing the door every time it opens.

And I am constantly forced to physically move them aside to gain either access of egress.

Every evening, for the past few weeks - come rain or shine and way into the wee small hours - these poor old codgers sit outside the back door peering into the kitchen and looking pathetic – half standing if I go near them in the hope that at last I will finally relent and and let them into the warm.

Now that I can get closer to them I can see they have huge bald patches. In fact poor Hare is almost completely bald in the belly! They must have been neglected for far longer than the two months that they have been in my garden to get into this state.

(sigh)… but no, no, no – I can’t have 5 cats… I mustn’t!!!

But what can be done?

They are sweet old boys - but 5 cats? Not on... however cat-obsessed I may be...

I have tried contacting both the CPL and RSPCA – both of whom are chocolate teapots with no suggestions beyond offering to pay ‘some’ of the vet fees to get them fit and MAYBE get them on a list for rehoming in a few months time; and meanwhile I will, of course, home them at my expense, etc, etc!

Anyone reading this want to adopt two cats?

Burke and Hare

Our three cats are great

But what to do about the pair of moth-eaten black and white toms from along the terrace?

Something of a problem is looming and getting ever loomier.

Gossip has it locally that the owner of said pair has locked them out of the house because they don’t ‘get on’ with her baby. Is she still feeding them? I have not the slightest clue (She is not the sort of person you approach with such a question.)

Nor do I have any idea what these two feline assassins are called - but I have dubbed them:

Burke (a long haired cat, so hard to tell how thin he is, but shedding hair in big bald spotswhere his hair is falling out). and Hare (long, skinny and moth-eaten - with matchstick legs and even more bald patches than his brother) So why Burke and Hare, you ask?

For the swathe they are cutting through the local wildlife. Nothing is safe. Nothing! Rodents, birds, amphibians. They will catch and eat pretty much anything!

Last weekend Burke was even on the pub roof after the jackdaws nesting in the chimneys – and being mobbed for his pains. That has to be one hungry cat attempting to storm a jackdaw colony three storeys up for his next meal!

And now B & H are desperately trying to move in with us. Sneaking in doors and windows every chance they get – to steal food in the main. But also, I suspect, for some warmth.

Of course our pampered trio never turn a hair. Only this morning Dill was sitting on the window sill and did not even look up when Burke flew past her head like a hairy torpedo. He had been sitting on the landing just three feet away from her - having polished off the remains of the cat breakfast.

I think he would have been quite happy to stay there all day – and was only legging it because he saw me in the kitchen.

(I have that affect on some humans as well.)

But what to do? The RSPCA’s answer is that unless there is obvious cruelty they can/will do nothing – but that I can catch them and take then to a vet if I like.

Oh yeah. Like that’s going to happen…

I feel so sorry for them - yet what can I do?

At this rate I can see us ending up with five cats...

Anyone know where I can buy a purple hat?

Name(ing) of the Beasts

You realise once an animal comes into the house that names you thought might fit… just don’t.

So once our feline trio had got their paws under the table it became very apparent very quickly that so far as the girls are concerned? Deities they are not!

Thus Freya and Frigga became – respectively – Dilly Dump and Betty Poop; Dilly and Betty in polite company.

But our striped lad? A bundle of mischief, so Puck was the obvious choice. But not something I fancied calling out late in the evening.

Would you want to go out into the yard and shout Here Puck! Pucky, pucky. pucky pu-u-u-ck…

Just a bit too easy for our elderly neighbours to mis-hear.

But in keeping with a fey theme – my first name I had considered for him was Oberon. Obi for short. And it suits him.

And that they answer to Betty, Dilly and Obi - its official!

Cats on a hot plastic blog

You wonder what there is worth putting onto a blog.

And then you go and get yourself three cats. Yes, that’s not one, or even two, but three. After our old lady died we swore we would not get another cat at least for a while.

But you miss their company - miss sitting at the computer with a feline pal zedding away just in hand’s reach.

And as I sit here now I have two of them in my study doing just that. The third one? Well… more of her later.

Peter and I saw some cats on the Cat Protection League website. Two handsome cats in need of a home. Okay they were 5 years old, but looked like they needed some tlc. So I duly emailed the CPL about them. We got some information and rang the owners of the cats. She had done a moonlight. Moved away leaving no trace – I hope she took the cats with her.

So we tried again. Got the CPL home visit and was offered several cats pairs (we wanted two, they are company for each other). There was Nelson and Admiral, both a year old, and yes... both were missing an eye (each). No one knew how they were injured but they had turned up together in need of vet care.

We were very tempted. How could you refuse two that needed a home so much?

But closer to home was a pair called Jessabelle and Suki. Smoke grey (blue?) and white ladies about a year old. So we arranged an appointment to see them.

Meanwhile back on the hillside a pair of scraggy local (ex)tomcats were trying to move into our house and sneaked in given even half a chance. I discovered they belonged to a neighbour who was shutting them out during the day as they did not get on with her year old child. Nice enough cats, but obviously quite old and frankly somewhat mangy… quite literally; with huge bald patches on their hind quarters,. Though whether this was actually to mange infestation or that they were being plucked bald by an enthusiastic toddler I am not sure.

But back to Jezz and Su. We toddled off to see the pair and that was it. Once seen? Had to have! But in the same pen was a smoke grey tabby names … wait for it... Smokey… he was just seven months old, and making desperate attempts to attract my attention.

Well I could not leave him there… now could I?

So we paid our ‘voluntary’ amount and there we were the same day with three cats.

That evening I had a call from a friend.
‘you wanted a cat didn’t you? I know someone trying to find a home – for free.’

The following day I was stopped by the neighbour asking if I wanted to adopt the afore-mentioned black twins… I declined that offer a little more readily given that one of them had deposited half a dead pigeon on my doorstep that very morning!

We had cats coming at us from all angles.

But we are content. We have our three cats, albeit with pretty naff names.

So - we thought – lets go with a mythological theme. Oberon and Titania and…? no third name came to mind. Okay so Loki, Freya and Frigga? Perfect!!

Loki is a little menace, the trickster incarnate.(He has climbed the yucca and tipped it over twice, tries very hard to catch washing through the glass window on the machine, and teased his adopted sisters night and day. )


Freya is a walking stomach who located the cat food cupboard, dried biscuit jar and the fridge within half a day. Gentle but determined; a perfect lady with great guile.




So far so good.

But Frigga? Alas, poor Frigga. She is very pretty, with delicate features and sleek attire – but a bear of little brain. And, further more, with the lamentable habit of using the space behind the tv in lieu of the kitty loo… despite all attempts so far to dissuade her.

Her regal name has been rapidly dropped in favour of something more in keeping with her peculiar nature.

Yes folks – make way for Betty Poop.