the year that was 2012 (in which I try to condense my year into hellos, goodbyes, celebrations, journeys and lessons learnt.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

:: hello to
 2 bedroom changes
 2 new businesses
 4 new housemates
 2 ducks and 3 chickens
 6 new friends
 1 new love 
 his 3 beautiful children 
 1 Bachelor of Visual Arts

:: goodbye to
 1 lovely cat Gigersquee
 1 wonderful relationship
 1 job quit
 4 old housemates
 6cm of hair chopped off on a whim 

:: celebrated
1 2012 cardboard tube fighting league champion crown. true story.
7 birthday parties
2 music concerts
2 art exhibition contributions 
 lots of dinner parties

:: journeyed
1 family trip to ikea
5 ace camping trips
6 long train trips
4 flights
1 long bus trip
1 car trip to the snow!
5 picnics
2 trips to museum and art gallery

:: learned
 how to play a lot of poker
 sometimes quitting is actually the best thing
 how to sew an adjustable duck nappy
 how to play 5 songs on the ukulele
 Dr Who is awesome  
 beans and corn grow really well together
 how to talk about postmodernism
 donuts are easier to make then you'd think
 move your hips away from the turn when skiing
 lots about running a business
 letting go of something great is really really hard, even if it's for the right reasons


I hope you had a wonderful year too, and Happy New Year for 2013!
x
 
 

weeks in pictures- visiting my love and around home

:: picking flowers :: crochet bedspread made by Rolley's Nan :: pretty silver and opal ring he gave to me, isn't it pretty! :: Rolley and his nephew Darcy :: unexpected prettiness on the way home :: delicious easy dinners :: driving in the country :: making bread together

:: family birthday (isn't the cake fantastic!) :: new duck named Gracie :: sister trip to Ikea :: Juniper :: amazing dinners with friends :: nieces birthday (another amazing cake) :: possum visitor :: simple breakfast :: Six :: duck noodle soup (shh don't tell Clementine)

sleepy cats

In the heat of the day, I took some photos of the cats in their (current) favourite sleeping places. Six on the ironing board, Giger on the wall ledge (he is wearing a cone so he can't lick himself), Juniper on the desk- looking alert of course. Impossible to sneak up on that cat.
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Right now they're circling me, hoping for a lick of yoghurt from my breakfast while I'm not looking.

that is one famous cat

My cat Six was featured on Freckled Nest for 'Fuzzy Friday'. If you haven't already seen this ace blog by the lovely Leigh-Anne, go check it out.

I showed Six her post, and she looked suitably unimpressed and went into the corner to lick herself. Ah, fame.

neighbourhood medical alert

(text)

This is Six. Six lives on Gilpin St, and is allergic to fish. (Honestly. It’s hilarious). Eating fish has no immediate symptoms, but continuous exposure leads to side effects and health complications.

Unfortunately, being a cat, Six loves fish. Can’t get enough. And despite a ban on fish, and glad-wrap on the fish bowl (to protect the cat, not the fish); Six is showing some allergy symptoms. She’s getting her hits somewhere, but Lordy knows where.

Please keep an eye out for Six, and if you feed your cats outdoors or give your puppy leftovers be aware that’s she may be lurking in the shadows waiting for a fix. Help her give up the habit, for her own sake. Thank you!
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(I'm going to post it around the neighbourhood. Here's hoping she gets better!)

the cat who was allergic to fish

Six is my slightly chubby, arrogant but loving cat, and has had a strange lesion on her lip that grew bigger until I carried her fat bum to the vet last week (and found muscles in my arms I didn't know I had). The vet found more lesions in her mouth, said a really really long word, and declared that she is probably allergic to fleas and fish.

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Treatment includes injections, fastidious flea control, checking all food, no licking from tuna cans and definitely no drinking from the goldfish bowl (goldfish food has fish in it. She's been drinking fish water for years).

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What kind of a cat is allergic to fish? It's absurd. Like a dog allergic to bones. Then the vet told me that the other possible diagnosis is cancer. So suddenly I'm okay about the fish allergy thing.

how do you get concrete out of carpet?

This morning I was woken at 3am with a cat sitting on me. This is not unusual, but I remember thinking 'man, is she heavier than she was yesterday?' before I drifted back to sleep. Then I woke this morning with a strange white dust on my bed and sheets. Strange. I went to put my shoes on and reached under the bed. The seem to be covered in, white dusty paint? Ah, concrete? What the? Concrete on the doorway, on the furniture, in little paw prints all.the.way.up.the.hall.

So I have a kitty who has visited a building site a block away and managed to DUNK herself in CONCRETE. She is walking like she's in a half-body cast, her fur sticking out in stiff white spikes as she waddles and shakes one foot, then the other, in a vain attempt to get it off.

A bath in the laundry sink later (wet cats are hilarious. it's true.) and some hopes that she hasn't eaten too much concrete already, I stop in to see the builders on the way to work. They thought it was pretty damn funny, and luckily she hasn't ruined anything. Apparently the concrete was mostly set so the lime had deactivated or something so it was less toxic than it could have been. Still not recommended though.

I didn't have the chance to grab some photos of the scene as I rushed to work, but it was THIS ONE. She looks INNOCENT doesn't she. Not.

happy birthday you crazy thing

you used to be this big

you have grown a lot in a year. you have destroyed a lot, eaten a lot, annoyed a lot and been loved a lot. You still drink out of the fishbowl.

Happy birth/adoption day miss Juniper Berry.

Let me introduce you to my cats.

I have 3, accidentally.
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Six, (daughter of my friends cat Seven, who was later tragically killed and buried under the lemon tree next to the chicken coop) is tabby and has 'big bones'.
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Six likes:
- to be aloof and nonchalant. She follows me around but pretends not to. As in 'Oh, you're in the shower? I didn't notice. Really, I balance on the edge of the bath and stare into the distance all the time.'
- to find my lap. sleep under my armpit.
-to shed copious amounts of thick coarse fur.
-to avoid Juniper (see below)
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Juniper, kitten of mayhem, looks like her fur coat was caught in a blender and then randomly sticky-taped back together. Word to the wise, 'Oooh let’s get that playful one' should not be precursor to inviting said cat into home and hearth. That said, she really is lovely. When she's sleeping. Juniper joined us to keep Six company. This plan was deeply flawed.
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Juniper likes:
- to play play play. This often involves bringing twigs and small seed pods inside to roll around on the floor. We also have a substantial collection of mummified small lizards, crickets and various insects found under the couch.
- to torture Six (see above), particularly by; watching, stalking, pouncing, latching on to her throat, taking her favourite sleeping spots and generally not giving her a moments peace.
- sleep in her favourite spot, in the frangipani pot. Tropical kitteh.



Gigersquee is the cat.that.started.it.all. A birthday gift from a bestie, he came from a shelter and was named Gigersquee after a discussion about names resulting in word match between Giger (after H.R. Giger, artist, favours charcoals and colours reflected in coat of baby Gigersquee) and Squee (homicidal cartoon character. Just cute.)
Gigersquee went missing from my old apartment in April 2008. 3 months later, having accepted the likelihood that he was a goner, saw kitten in a window and said ‘ooooh, let’s get that playful one’ (see above). In November 2008, receive a phone call from RSPCA informing me that they have my cat, would I like to come and get him? Holy LONG LOST CAT! 7 MONTHS! (LLC for short)
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Giger likes:
- to sit next to my head so that on awakening the first thing I see are large green eyes peering at me and inquiring quietly. Or a cold nose pressed on mine.
- be languorous. on the windowsill, or on the roof in the sun, or on the paving stones.
- rip the weekend paper into shreds and eat it. Usually when I’m trying to read it.
- hack hairballs up in the hallway. Nice.
He also has various allergies which result in charts and measuring and mixing and nice people in white coats taking what seems like an awful lot of my money.

Soooo happy Gigersquee was found despite sudden realisation that, oops, I have three cats, dangerously close to crazy cat lady territory. Particularly as I am single and like to wear slippers. Hrmm... I keep trying to give one away (I have spare, after all) but no takers as yet. I think they think I’m joking. I met a nice boy with three cats too, but it could never work out. If we ever moved in together we’d have Brady Bunch Family of six cats. Holy Toledo.