Timing

When I booked my flights to Belfast earlier in the year I wasn’t to know my departure was going to coincide with the almost certain elevation of Boris Johnson to the post of Prime Minister. I’m not going to go on about it. Marina Hyde expresses the whole fiasco so much better than I could here. Though I can’t resist adding a link to the very wonderful Michael Spicer and his latest YouTube on what is fast becoming known as kippergate.

It’s people like Michael Spicer and Marina Hyde who give me hope that my country is not totally beyond redemption, and at some time in the future may rediscover reason and self-respect.

It so happens my departure also coincides with a heat wave I am very happy to miss. I am less happy that the forecast for almost all my stay in Co Derry is for rain. But hey ho, I’ll take the waterproofs and it’ll be ok. Of course I shall be still be in the UK, but with Johnson running (sic) things, the break up of the Union may be close. I have my Irish passport now, as well as my British one, but at this rate I’m going to have an English one before very long. Never mind, it’ll be dark blue. That is, I am told, what matters.

MasterB will be in the tender care of the Young Relative. She visited again on Friday evening and he made clear his pleasure at seeing her. The family of the ginger female down the road, who gave birth to five ginger kittens a couple of weeks ago, is also on holiday, and their own Young Relative is in residence to cat sit, so these two YRs may meet up and socialise. On Friday it was YR, Octavia, Celia and me at the local Lebanese. B&J would normally count as back up, but they mega Prom fans so will be at the Royal Albert Hall every night for the next few weeks. Actually both Octavia and Celia are away the first week of my holiday, so I am glad there is the other YR for support close by. I am also glad I invested in a sod stream lat weekend so she has easy access to fizzy water, and I have an extraordinarily good little fan from Lidl which I hope will help on hot nights.I don’t think I am going to need it in Co Derry. Continue reading

By Request

Cagey has asked for pictures of the cat that looks like Queen Victoria. She means Lily.

Lily


She settled well in the countryside after a lifetime just outside Belfast. Having watched the inhabitants of her new demesne from a high vantage point she finally descended among them to rule the space. She commandeered the dog basket, stretched out on the sofa, rolled on her back on the floor confident that none of her subjects would annoy her. Continue reading