Mmmmm lovely scritch scrotches thank you.
One minute of delicious birdsong featuring catto Leo as guest meower.
I was grateful to be back in the hot tub this morn. Not for long as I couldn’t see a thing, the light was so bright. But long enough to know how healing, warm water is. Buzz joined me on the side for a drink. Just what he needed I suppose. Warm chlorinated water!? 🧐
Pins and needles. How weird are they? The numbness, the tingles, the ‘oh my, how am I supposed to walk now?’ feeling. First the floppiness, then the spikiness. I get weirded out by the whole thing. I feel for all those kids sitting on floors in assembly. It gets better kiddos!
I’m buying a Chromebook. Instead of using my phone to write long posts, I’m going to play in the big girl’s playground and use a keyboard and everything. Think I’ve decided. It’s a start anyway (Acer Chromebook R13). Get me, talking about tech 😉 (that’s as far as I go though).
The M25 - What the Hell?
I arrived at our next house-sit yesterday, in Tunbridge Wells, in the South East of England after an intense drive on the M25. If you’ve never experienced the M25, it’s an ancient, busy, stop-start motorway with batshit crazy drivers. It’s like people are living such intense, stressful, power hungry lives down south (near London) that they get trigger happy with their accelerators. They’re all insane. And that made me a bit insane too and I’ve got to watch out for that. I don’t like the pressure that other drivers put me under. I’m working on getting better at this.
Sound asleep cattos. In a big pile of squish. Leo usually gets the brunt of Buzz’s bottom in one way or another.
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My first ever podcast interview It was fun 😃
Miss Cookie Face. My tiny shadow for the next ten days.
This is @macgenie’s cat crush. Hendrix. The cow cat 😻
I lasted half the night with Cookie in bed. Her loud purr got even louder when she settled herself on top of my head (she’s so hot!). My arm got pins and needles because well, I couldn’t possibly move a muscle and disturb her. So I lay restless, in pain, for the love of cats.
I’m lying here in bed with darling Cookie, listening to her purr, feeling her snuggling into me. After a couple of days without cats, I’m grateful to be back in their company. I’m a little tipsy, in bed with a cat and it feels absolutely amazing. So soft, so furry, so right 😻
Here's To Women
Women are interesting, complicated creatures sometimes (all the time). One reason is because hormones are powerful little buggers making women behave in exciting, unpredictable ways.
Every so often it gets pretty full on. Sometimes we just can’t help it. Here’s how it went today. For me.
Lethargy. Weakness. Frustration. Laughter. Loved up-ness. Desperation. Exhaustion. Annoyance. Despair. Pissed off-ness (quite a lot of swearing). Resilience. Power (conquering a 3 mile walk). Joy. Giggles (so many giggles - the kind of giggles you get when you’re over tired). Madness (I can’t go into a supermarket without buying random stuff I don’t need). Space cadet-ness (eyes ever so slightly crossing). Gratitude (oooooo let’s smell every single rose along the entire street). Dreaminess. Demanding (I want a cheese straw and I want it NOW). Surrender. Pain. Sexiness. Annoyance. Relief. Relaxation. Affection.
Love Letters and Leaving
There was a boy in my class. He was very fanciable. All the girls fancied him. Stuart B. I wrote him a love letter once and signed my name with mysterious dashes. He figured out who it was and didn’t reciprocate my undying love. I was embarrassed and upset and so good at wearing my heart on my sleeve. My friends comforted me. How sweet they were.
The last year of junior school was also the toughest for me. For some reason most of the class below me alienated me. Every time I walked past them someone would say ‘Quick Holly’s coming’ and they would all hold their breath. It was tough and confusing. I never told anyone and I never cried. I just took it and pretended not to be bothered. But I always remember their remarks and the look of a crowd of kids putting their hands over their noses as I walked by. That was crap.
Jolly Fudge
The best year of junior school was the last one. Not because I wanted to leave but because I adored my class teacher. I wanted to live it twice over. Mr Patterson was his name. Scottish, fun, caring. I fancied him of course. He called me Jolly Fudge (my birth name was Holly Judge). He made me feel cool. I thought him wonderful. He came in half way through the year on supply. How lucky. I tried to find him many years later to say thank you, but with no luck.
Behind The Bins
With this newfound exploration of erotic feelings and admiration of the female form I hatched a plan to see more. I don’t know how I knew this but a friend at school’s dad used to read the Daily Sport, a smutty paper with lots of rude pictures. I decided that if I offered to recycle his newspapers I’d be able to see the naughty pictures in it. So began the clever ruse that Angela and I (because I roped her into it too) would collect newspapers from around the area (mainly his as all the others were boring normal papers) and do a good deed, taking them to the recycling bins at the shops. Back then there were no recycling collections. It was a great plan. And so I would sometimes be found looking at a fanny or a pair of boobies behind the back of the recycling bins. I did it a few times I suppose. It felt naughty and nice. It gave me a buzz.
Sometimes people arrive back from their holidays fairly early in the morning. Tomorrow is one of those days so we’re getting the house ready.
Simon’s on vacuum duty. He had this to say.
S: I’ve been hoovering in the dark. It’s quite fun.
I like his style (he’s bare chested too 😉)
Early Erotica
It seemed predestined for me to have early erotic experiences. I was looking for something to read and I went into dad’s office for a magazine. I never usually did this because they were all boring puzzle and crossword magazines as that was the publishing industry he worked in. I took a magazine lying on the floor, it had been there for weeks, and opened it. Luckily dad wasn’t in the room because the first thing I saw was a pair of boobs. It was a top shelf magazine. It was exciting. I felt naughty. I felt feelings that I hadn’t experienced before. After that it was a matter of time before I found every rude magazine under that desk. It was a fun secret for a while though it didn’t last long - I’m too damn honest for my own good and told mum. The next time I went looking they were all gone. Argh.
Ecstatic face of dribbly love after daily scritch scrotches.
Delicious sights and smells this time of year. I’m drunk on flowers. Spring. Aston-Le-Walls, Oxfordshire, England.
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