Sharing My Garden With Cats...

Fruhlingsmorgen Rose

I sleep in my garden (well, almost). I have breakfast and lunch in my garden. I spend all day in my garden (unless the weather is atrocious). Am I lucky? Oh yes, every minute of every day. And I share all of this with six wonderful cats. Oops - seven, counting reclusive grey Lilli-Puss.

Don't Forget the Dog

And I mustn't forget Rusty the dog. He loves gardening. Well, I'm pretty sure he does. Dogs like doing things, don't they?

Monday 29th October

Today I've enjoyed (humph, not quite the word) two sessions of bricklaying, watched by a cluster of three curious cats - Percy, Fluff-Fluff, and Little Mac. Why is what I'm doing so interesting? I hope they've been able to ignore all the slightly grumpy language...

I've retired to the cottage to have afternoon tea with my dog. The green leaves of the Pond Paddock trees are fluttering gently, and I can hear that gorgeous bird who tells me I'm 'very gooood, very gooood'... Love you, bird!

 Rusty loves gardening. Oh, does he?
Rusty the Dog in the Garden

+5 Amazing! More cats - now Tiger my stay-by-the-fridge cat has appeared on the verandah. Wow, Tiger - your little striped legs have carried you from the house, through the gate, and over the lawn past the pond. I am honoured you've come to share my special place of deep personal peace. Well, it was. Histeria the tabby has just arrived and chased poor Tiger back to the house. Apparently Tiger was out of bounds?

 My ornamental ginger boy!
Percy Cat in the Vegetable Garden

Uncomplicated Company

But, do you know something? Cats are always there, providing endless fun and uncomplicated garden company. I'd be a sad, lonely gardener without my cats.

Even you, silly Percy, leaping through the cottage window in the dead of night to land on my legs. This is a bit disturbing (Percy is a heavy cat, his landings are noisy, and my after-midnight imagination can exaggerate things).

Tuesday 30th October

After two long sessions of brick-cleaning, followed by two sessions of brick-laying, my hands are quite sore. But I’m tough, and I’m not moaning!

Today I decided on the full protective approach, and wore my dark glasses, white breathing mask, and red spotted shower cap. I'm quite glad there were no visitors. Little Mac wasn't the slightest bit concerned by my odd appearance. Ginger Percy took one look and ran for the safety of the hedge. Fair enough, I'd say!

I estimate I need about twenty more bricks, and one more day, to finish the herb spiral. Hee hee - it's almost done! I'm relaxing in the cottage, lolling on my armchair listening to the birds again. The warmer sunshine makes them so much squeakier. So should I have a short nap, or drive through the crosstown traffic to get those final bricks? Hmm... Neither, probably. I'm just going to sit in the afternoon sun and talk to big Fluff-Fluff (who has been shadowing me all day).

 My big fluffy gardening cat.
Fluff-Fluff Cat in the Garden

Wednesday 31st October

Today is the last day of October. It is also my last bricklaying day. I did one laying session before breakfast (the appearance and disappearance of the trowel providing great fun for Little Mac). Then I zoomed off in my little green car to get the final brick load, and cleaned and laid some more. I'm now having the shortest of afternoon tea breaks in the cottage. Just fourteen more bricks are left to lay. Fourteen isn't many. Quite frankly, I may never touch another brick again.

Lilli-Puss :
Lilli-Puss is my Stables cat.

Oh, good news regarding Lilli-Puss (who has been AWOL quite a lot lately). I deliberately got up really early this morning hoping to find her. There she was, tucked up in her cat basket in the Stables, as if she'd never been away. So what's all the fuss about? And where's my fresh pet meat?

Such an odd cat - perhaps there are good pickings prey-wise at the moment. Lilli is never thin when she returns from these random wanderings.

 Tarmac is her proper name!
Mac Cat in the Garden

Peaceful, But...

It's peaceful here - Minimus the cottage cat is purring on the bed, while my squeaky birds sing their hearts out in the sunny treetops around the pond. But I worry for the New York folk in their storm-ravaged city. Such harsh things have been happening to them, while my garden is so calm. Why can't the weather be more peaceful? Those oceans have a lot to answer for...

Right. This is it. It! The Last of the Bricks? On with the gloves, the spotty shower cap, and the protective dust mask...

Before I return I'd like to particularly thank Little Mac, youngest Moosey cat, for providing such good bricklaying company. She sits in the grass and watches my slow progress, then plods around the path checking out things when the wheelbarrow is absent. And no rude comments about my concept of horizontal or my rather rustic brick patterns, either.

Cats are marvellous critics. 'Ooh, there's my mother. I love my mother. What's she doing in the garden? I love everything my mother does in the garden...'