We Three, Ginger cats tales

Song of the copper bear

2009-11-26T22:18:00.004Z

Tonight the wind cat plays with the copper bear that flies above the house. The dogs go to the door. It is dark, time to walk the village bounds before sleep. She rises to go and as She opens the door some of the night rushes into the house. Moonshadow fingers of winterbone trees dapple the ground with dark and silver. I slip through the door, out from the light and into the night, to follow.
She turns. " Go back. It's cold. Stay warm in the house," She says.
But I jump up, into Her arms, a ginger scarf and gloves of bright fur to warm Her as they walk. She pushes Her face into flame fur and we warm each other as She carries me around beneath star and sky and bright moon. As we near the house again its lights shine out a welcome. She breathes in the scent of cat and sighs, holding me close.
" I love you, Maurice."
We close the door on the darkness.
Outside the wind cat still plays with the copper bear. In the wind, the copper bear sings.

Borrowed words.

2009-11-25T22:39:00.002Z

Things that are wild.
The west wind. Waves at sea. Flames. Distant stars, so many. The bone white moon. Hawk flight. Firelight in a cat's eyes.

Things that are tame.
Being inside, listening to the wind outside. A still shore. Rainsong on a roof. The smell of baking bread. Firelight in a cat's eye.

The Glass Man

2009-11-25T14:39:00.004Z

A few days ago She left the house early. We heard her talking. She said She was going to play with The Glass Man. Some time ago She read a book called The Girl with Glass Feet. Could this be a man completely made of glass, living a fragile existence by the edge of the land?
Whoever he is She came home tired but happy. It seems that soon we will have a big piece of glass on the wall by the cooker.
Now we are wondering whether She could make a panel with a bright burning tiger.

Busy days, winter soup.

2009-11-23T17:49:00.003Z

She has been painting.

Martha has been studying art.

And we have all been helping with the washing up.

Yum, cream of carrot soup. Bright orange. Just right.

Just needs mouse croutons.

Words

2009-11-15T16:42:00.003Z

In the warmth of the evening house the reader, who was also an artist, read about the writer, glass in hand, and wondered about how intertwined might be the lives of the writer in the novel and the writer of the novel. The cats were all suitably unimpressed by the convoluted sentence. Maurice draped a casual tail across Her shoulder and took a closer look.

He thought that the book was very heavy, had many words in, but on the whole it was not as comfortable as a cushion.

A Study in Red, Black and White; or, Cat Uses Dog as Cushion.

2009-11-15T13:57:00.001Z

Cat's tummy makes the world glow.

2009-11-12T21:59:00.003Z

Outside, early morning curiosity. Morning light makes ginger glow. Warm house, cold outside and later rain, so we all stayed in to help.

John came and took away paintings for an exhibition at The Imagine Gallery which is in a place that is a long way away, called England. We helped him pack by holding things in place while he stuck bubbles with tape.

But Kiffer was lazy and melting from the warmth of the fire, stretched out long as long so no one else ( other than Martha) could sit there. One long cat!

Now it is raining outside. A small wind howls and yowls and tries to get its paws beneath the doors. And we are warm and dry and cosy. Winter.

Three: or it's a magic number.

2009-11-11T21:37:00.002Z

Catnip Mice

2009-11-11T13:50:00.000Z

In the post today, catnip mice! How we love to get presents. Thank you Lynda.

One evening in Treleddyd Fawr: or the cushion cats

2009-11-09T23:02:00.002Z

Outside rain drums on the roof. Patter patter pitter patter. Inside flames curl orange bright. We are cushion cats.

Things that cats need to learn.

2009-11-07T07:57:00.002Z

Elmo needs to know that if he sits on the cat food box She can't get the cat food out of the box.
Martha needs to know that ignoring Floss when she stares at her doesn't make her go away.
Kiffer needs to know that if he puts his head under the cat food packet when we are being fed he will get cat food on his head.
Max needs to know that the fire can get very hot.
Maurice just needs to know that we all love him, even when he is grumpy.

( And you all need to know that scratching my door to wake me up at 5 in the morning does not work in the winter when it is dark and weeing outside the door because you are angry because I have not got up to feed you does not make me very happy!)

One long ginger cat

2009-11-06T12:09:00.002Z

Living dangerously

2009-11-06T11:08:00.001Z

Tonight Max is the warmest cat.

Prayers in the wind of the world.

2009-10-31T20:37:00.002Z

Prayer flags in the wind carry prayers around the world for many more days like this, as they unravel in the breeze. Yesterday Kath came and gave Maurice two injections and today his breathing was better and mischief reigned in his bones as he raced birds up the tree and soaked the sunshine deep into ginger fur.

Beautiful.

2009-10-29T13:40:00.002Z

Maurice: We wait, curled in warm places in Glyn's barns or his kitchen, until the men with hammers and drills have gone. In the evenings there is a fire now. Everything in the house is different.
Today we walked a little way, but something steals my breath. I cannot go far from home and She seems sad because of this. I look at the sky, the birds, secret ways through bushes of thorns. I listen to windsong and birdsong. I feel autumn sun and leaf fall. I smell damp air, crisp leaf and I can hear a falling leaf rustle, a bird wing flit, a moth breathe. I am a cat.

Guests

2009-10-25T17:31:00.003Z

It is not just because Daf is a catcher of fishes that we, the ginger-clan love him. (Even Maurice sits on Daf and allows him to stroke him!) It is not because Daf has a beard that is the same colour as our fine fur. It is just because. So this afternoon we let him sit by our fire.

Fire cats, fire dogs.

2009-10-22T16:26:00.002Z

Dancing firecat of ginger flames warms the house once again. So good, so warm. Outside a wren shouts at the dark bruised sky. It has been a day of rainbows and the world shines like a wet pebble. Beautiful.
We are warm.

A wish or two.

2009-10-20T20:15:00.003Z

The wind fell away in the early afternoon. Clouds cleared to blue sky and we un-peeled from corners and cushions. She is frustrated as something called facebook will not let Her comment or post. But we are happy because She is home (though we wish that She would stop making smells with things She paints on wood).
The night is dark. It is a blessing that it is not yet cold. We wait with less patience each day for the fire to be lit. Soon, it must be soon.
And Maurice breathes heavily even when resting. This is not good.
Soon all the building work will be done, the fire will be lit and the moon will come back. Soon it will be cold outside and She will settle to rest and to paint. Soon all will be well. But not yet.
Beneath the tree we wait to catch an autumn leaf. Each leaf that falls will touch the ground but if we can catch a falling leaf or two we can make a wish, or two. Tonight we need a wish, or two.

Salt winds from the south west.

2009-10-19T20:48:00.003Z

A fierce wind blows. All day it has built itself into something strong and now in the dark time of night it rages, biting the air with cold teeth. It rattles the doors and the windows too and pushes at the house.
But She is back and when She walks the dogs in their night time hunt around the soon to be sleeping village we go too. No bats tonight, though yesterday they called out of the mild night's darkness. No owls. All are blown to roost. Only the fast falling cat shadow pools of darkness that rampage with the wind around hedges and hollows.
Back in the house we curl, still waiting for the first fire, still hoping for a peaceful lap, still waiting..... and listening to the wind's night song in the fragile leaves of autumn.

A postcard home.

2009-10-17T07:38:00.002Z

Dear Cats,
Hoping that all is well with you and that you are keeping an eye on the builders. Cheltenham is full of autumn, golden leaves that flutter down to the ground to land, leaves that you would love to chase and that would compliment your beautiful ginger fur with their golden contrast.
I have seen no cats here so far, though there is a fountain with horses.
I miss you all.
I have dragons to paint today. Yesterday I told children all about you and how Pixie and I will be doing a book together and I wonder if Pixie will be invited to festivals to curl up and sleep and dream to show how she got the inspiration for her book. Maybe not. It is busy with cars and people and husstle and busstle and maybe not the best place for a cat. The best place for a cat is at home and soon I will be baack and can tell uou of ny adventures while you curl on my lap and purr your adventures to me. I look forward to that moment.
Yours, Jackie

The scent of adventure and star music.

2009-10-11T21:12:00.004Z

In the morning we woke to an early morning light fractured over windows by rain drops dripping.We slept. Max and Me in the cat basket carelessly left out, Martha and Kiffer on Her bed and Elmo on the new cushions She bought for us on the kitchen chairs. We think that Maurice was visiting Mr Griffiths as he was nowhere to be seen.
We did not notice when the clouds passed over and sunshine filled the land through muted air filled with salt and sea spray, lighting the land in soft autumn colours.
Maurice came home in time for supper, glowing ginger bright like a fire. Where he had been he would not say, though he smelled of adventure.
Now it is night. The sky is dark, pinned with stars. Together we prowl, made monochrome by the night, not yet cold, and still we look forward to the time when the fire will be lit and the scent of smoke will colour the scent patterns of night.
Across the field badgers call and he dogs prick up their ears. They would hunt if they could but She calls them back and listens to the night time song of badgers and the distant roll of sea and the star music of the dark.

Elbowing my way onto the cat blog again!

2009-10-11T17:10:00.003Z

A quick update on Maurice.
On Thursday Maurice and I went to the vets and saw Kath who hadn't had time to see his xray but had spoken to both Tori and Moira. It seems that his xray was inconclusive. Kath gave him an antibiotic and it seemed to clear his breathing so that he no longer looks like a pair of bellows. There is still a problem, still a couple of areas on the xray that are difficult to explain, but his breathing has eased and he looks so well in coat and condition, bless him.
So now we just have to wait a while and see how he is and enjoy each moment.
The cats are all making the most of the new kitchen, which they think has been redesigned especially as a cat gym for them!
And we would all like to say thanks for all the support we have been shown so far, for all the sharing of stories, for everything.
Jackie (otherwise known as She, or The Cats' Mother)

Small pleasures and the thoughts of cats, on coffee, the wind and laps.

2009-10-07T05:33:00.003Z

She was a devil to wake this morning! Not only did we scritch scratch at the door, we had to go around outside in the cold and the wind and sritchety scratchety on the freshly painted windows. That seemed to do the trick, though She was not most polite when She let us in! Someone got out of the wrong side of the bed at 5.30!
We ate while She made that bitter stuff that two legs drink, then I sat on Her book in a most charming way. Just the right sized pages for a small-and-ginger.

In the early morning the darkness holds on tight to the world and will not let the day begin. Outside the wind is strong, bending the tree and stripping away wind burned leaves. The wind finds ways into the house and we wonder why She does not light the fire. But we find that if you run around the house very fast it is possible to stay warm.

So we huddle together for warmth.
When the builders came She bought them a big pot of coffee. It was to be hoped that by the time they reached the end of it they would be working somewhere else, making someone else's house fill with the fine dust that seems to follow them everywhere. They are on the third massive pot of coffee now and still here.
We are looking forward to an ending to all this upheaval, a fire, and a warm lap.

Cold rain is falling.

2009-10-06T21:44:00.002Z

Rain beats hard on the roof. All cats gather together, a pool of warm ginger. We wait for Her to light the fire, but so far She does not.
Maurice continues to breath like a bagpipe playing a fast tune. We will know more on Thursday.
At least we now have a roof for the rain to beat on!

Red cat, red cooker, Yorkshire pudding.

2009-10-05T10:23:00.002Z

New cooker, better than tv!