Lent and The Fame

Sometimes you must wonder if I am retired like HER. 

The answer is No! but I am so busy that I don't have time to write to you so often Ben.

Sorry to give you excuses. It would be more correct to say that I am resting between Gigs. You see,now that I have found an audience, other than Aunty SHE in Cheshire I am aware that my posts have to be Purrfect. SHE looks at me every night and says You must do a post for Ben , Samson. I look at her all poised and SHE just gets on with Twitter or the Filey Parish Blog. SHE has been thinking of the excellence of my posts, and wants me  to astound the wider world , now that it has found me,so that my posts are worthy of the CatBooker.

I am on a parallel track from her, but a much Narrower one. I have come to that repentance that says count yourselves less than others.

• I am going to take captive every thought of praise ,and give it straight back to the ONE who created all such as me. 
• I am putting to death pride not sitting around any more waiting for people to admire me. Infact I am going to start behaving like the cat that I was designed to be. I am going to sit and look for birds
• I am not going to scratch HER when she is combing my delicate parts
• I am going to be grateful for Catcrunch. Cats in other parts of the world have to get sustenance from refuse tips or old ladies on a mission.
• I am not going to seek Fame after all. I did wonder if I got HER to make me a garment from dried fish it would hit the headlines, but I expect not. My muse  Lady G has just told the world that she and her fans are Christians. I am very glad. She can have all the fame she likes. I am going to be me after all.

As you can see............

Ophelia

Dear Aunty HER

This is to tell you that I am thinking about you today. I am very sorry to hear of the death of my cousin Ophelia ( Phee) .
SHE tells me that you have buried her in your lovely garden. Next time you come to Kiaora I am going to help you to dig up some snowdrops, in the green , to plant above her.

with love from Samson

Regression

I am worried about HER. SHE is acting in a strange and yes I will say it a worldly manner. SHE has made HIM buy a Sunday Paper just to get a CD of the caterwauling I am being subjected to  this morning. SHE will be more than lonesome tonight if this carries on. I will not climb up on HER knee and purr. I will not look elegant on the hearth rug. I will make a mess with that white gravel stuff , and make sure it goes all up the hall. 

That is not all . She has  changed the profile picture of the FileyParish  Twitter page to indulge more of HER regressive and nostalgic tendancies.
SHE needs to get a life , I say.

I am being followed by a cottage

Well not just any cottage, but one of the nicest cottages in Queen Street, Flora Dora Cottage. I love the name , and I like the cottage.  It is where Michael Portillo oka Bradshaw stayed when he graced us with his presence. He saw me through the gate I think , and thought I  was lovely.

Not exactly FOLLOWED , let the reader understand , literally . It would look very silly trying to follow me around the grounds of my home. No , followed on Twitter.  I suppose its really as daft as a Norwegian Blue/Persian Cross being on Twitter, but I have an amanuensis called HER.

I am also followed by HER favourite journalist called Ruth Gledhill, who has Princess Natasha  , who I follow.

Used to be 6, then 5 now its 4 o'clock

I am trying to improve my living conditions.

When I came to live in this outpost on the North Coast SHE allowed me one pouch of meat or fish in jelly a day, and the rest of the day I had to eat that stuff the vet says is good for me-Cat Crunch. Then came the cheap cooked chickens SHE got from Mills Metro  to boil up the carcass for stock. SHE used to give me tasty scraps sometimes.  I used this to my advantage, purred at HER, and by subtle means and sheer devious patronage managed to be very grateful for more and more until she forgot that it had started out as giving me LEFTOVER CHICKEN SCRAPS.  She then bought cheap cooked chickens just for me, when they were REDUCED in the new supermarket-Tescos of Filey. She still made the stock , chicken sandwiches for HIM , little HIMS, HER and all those hangers on in this house. I got delicious morsels every day. Then austerity took over after Christmas, or Winterval as I call it. SHE has put me back on Cat Crunch  for my health she says. 

OLD GRANDMA SHE helped me out by donating all the meat from HER Chicken Carcass bought for soup. It has kept me going for 2 weeks until last night . 

Now 6 o'clock was my supper time. I have managed to reduce the time down to 4 o'clock by being vocal. I don't purr.  I go right up to HER and whine, and whine and whine.

It has worked at last, today I got my chicken supper at 4 o'clock.Except it was CAT CRUNCH and will be for ever more I heard HER say.

Last year , this year

Raspberry me

I promised you my review of last year

• It was over quickly
• I now know what a Thrush looks like
• The Little HIMS are my friends, even if they do eat red representations of me
• Cayton Carr is still my favourite Holiday Destination
• I do not use Twitter to my advantage 



Our Darkling Thrush 

• I dont mind snow or ice as long as I dont have to go out in in it

Playing with my Christmas gifts

Happy New year  Dear Readers