Hello everyone, I hope you are all enjoying your day so far.


Looking out of my kitchen window this morning I saw my cat trying to catch the falling leaves from the apple tree, so comical to watch and an absolute pleasure to start the day.  He is hardly a kitten, and there was a time when I thought he would never jump again, having had his back left leg smashed by a badgers bite.  The option to amputate and have a three legged cat or to operate was never in question, Wiffles has always been a jumper, floor to shoulder in one leap, I couldn't take that away from him, so surgery, and external fixators around the smashed bone were put in place for some months to let the bone scar tissue grow and build into a new bone commenced.  Some months later he was finally able to walk and started to resume his jumping it took time to learn but he did it an very glad I am too.  But even though he is approaching 10 years old he can still behave like a kitten and it is fabulous to see, of course the rest of the time he does sterling work stopping the bed from leaving the floor and floating to the ceiling.  What would we do without him?!



Wiffles


I am still doing battle with my sewing machine, and having checked all that I can, the only thing left is to replace the needle, so a  trip into town is required, looks like a weekend job to me.  So back to preparing material and scouring the internet for cheap suppliers of remnants.  I have also placed an ad with the local freecycle group asking for unwanted material.  


Thank you again for reading this and have a good day wherever in the world you are


Kitten and the falling leaves
William Wordsworth (1770-1850)




That way look, my infant, lo!
What a pretty baby-show!
See the kitten on the wall,
sporting with the leaves that fall.
Withered leaves - one - two and three
from the lofty elder tree.
Though the calm and frosty air,
of this morning bright and fair.
Eddying round and round they sink,
softly, slowly; one might think.
From the motions that are made,
every little leaf conveyed
Sylph or Faery hither tending,
to this lower world descending.
Each invisible and mute,
in his wavering parachute.



But the Kitten, how she starts,
crouches, stretches, paws, and darts!
First at one, and then its fellow,
just as light and just as yellow.
There are many now - now one,
now they stop and there are none:
What intenseness of desire,
in her upward eye of fire!
With a tiger-leap half-way,
now she meets the coming prey.
lets it go as fast, and then;
Has it in her power again.
Now she works with three or four,
like an Indian conjuror;
quick as he in feats of art,
far beyond in joy of heart.
Where her antics played in the eye,
of a thousand standers-by,
clapping hands with shout and stare,
what would little Tabby care!
For the plaudits of the crowd?
Over happy to be proud,
over wealthy in the treasure
of her exceeding pleasure!