Twenty five hours to go. And I have no plot, no characters, no setting, no idea. Fuck yeah! Bring it on, NaNoWriMo!!! :D
P.S. Wish me luck, dear reader, i'm gonna need it... ;)
XXX
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Saturday 30 October 2010
Sunday 24 October 2010
three stories and an introduction.
once upon a time, there was a little boy who lived with his grandparents.
one day, when he was playing outside, he met a stray cat. he played with this cat, and they liked each other very much. when the boy was called in for his tea, he excitedly told his grandparents about this lovely little black and white cat he'd met, and how she had no home to go to and pleasepleaseplease could he keep her?
his grandad considered this, looking at his grandson's hopeful face and said: "all right - if you can go outside and find this cat, you can keep it."
the boy was thrilled, and rushed outside to find the little black and white cat. he searched and he searched, high and low, but he couldn't find the little cat anywhere. eventually, it got dark, and his grandma called him inside. he walked inside slowly, his shoulders drooping with dejection. he met his grandad in the living room.
"did you find the cat, then?"
the boy's shoulders sagged a little more. "no, i didn't"
"well never mind" replied his grandad, kindly. "go on upstairs and get ready for bed, lad"
the boy walked slowly and sadly into the hall, to the foot of the stairs.
where the little black and white cat was waiting for him.
it was only many years later, when he was telling his future wife the story of the little black and white cat, that he realised how the cat had got to the foot of those stairs.
---
once upon a time, there was a little girl who already had two cats.
it was a very bad winter. it was very cold, and the snow lay thick on the ground. she began to hear her mum and dad talking about "that bloody black thing" that, she gathered, was another cat that had taken to sneaking in through the cat flap at night, and sleeping on the kitchen table with the other two cats. her dad kept throwing his slipper at it, but "that bloody black thing" was very persistent and, eventually, the family gave in and adopted the cat.
she was, actually, a beautiful longhaired tortoishell, and turned out to have the sweetest, most loving nature of any cat the little girl had ever, or (she suspects) would ever, encounter. it was easy to tell when the cat was asleep, since that was the only time she ever stopped purring.
the little girl grew up with that cat, and they were very, very firm friends.
when the little girl was twenty, the beautiful cat died, and she was heartbroken. a dozen years later, she still missed her and, very occasionally, dreamed about her. when this happened, she would wake up crying, missing her friend terribly, wishing only to bury her face into that soft, sweet-smelling fur, and hear that thunderous, throbbing purr once more.
---
once upon a time, the little boy with the black and white cat grew up to have a son. one day, whilst the (now) man and his (now) wife were visiting the son, his girlfriend and their son, in their new house, the man and his wife went outside for a smoke (so they wouldn't damage the health of the man's grandson). whilst they were outside (along with the man's son and his other son, who was staying with his brother and family for a while), a big black and white cat jumped up on to the fence beside them and, with thunderous purrs and imperious and insistent headbutts, demanded as much fuss as they were prepared to give him. delighted with this amazingly sweet natured animal, the man and his wife questioned the young men about this cat. they were horrified to learn that the previous tennants had left the cat behind when they moved, and he was living in the garden of the abandoned house next door. the brothers had been feeding him, but that was as far as it went, as they were all on a very low income, and couldn't afford to do any more than that. and besides, living outside, the poor animal, of course, had fleas, and they didn't want the fleas in the house (especially with the baby) if they could help it, and couldn't afford to treat them properly.
the man and his wife's hearts melted.
they were on holiday that week, and were going away. they decided, however, that as soon as they returned, they would adopt this sweet and abandoned animal, and give him the loving home that he deserved.
---
ladies and gentlemen, i take great pleasure in introducing you to Max The Cat.
i never thought i would ever again meet a cat as sweet-natured and chilled out as my beloved and much-missed tortoishell.
but i think he comes pretty close.
this is the view i've had for much of the weekend, at least when i've sat still for more than five minutes, since he comes and lies contentedly on my chest:
one day, when he was playing outside, he met a stray cat. he played with this cat, and they liked each other very much. when the boy was called in for his tea, he excitedly told his grandparents about this lovely little black and white cat he'd met, and how she had no home to go to and pleasepleaseplease could he keep her?
his grandad considered this, looking at his grandson's hopeful face and said: "all right - if you can go outside and find this cat, you can keep it."
the boy was thrilled, and rushed outside to find the little black and white cat. he searched and he searched, high and low, but he couldn't find the little cat anywhere. eventually, it got dark, and his grandma called him inside. he walked inside slowly, his shoulders drooping with dejection. he met his grandad in the living room.
"did you find the cat, then?"
the boy's shoulders sagged a little more. "no, i didn't"
"well never mind" replied his grandad, kindly. "go on upstairs and get ready for bed, lad"
the boy walked slowly and sadly into the hall, to the foot of the stairs.
where the little black and white cat was waiting for him.
it was only many years later, when he was telling his future wife the story of the little black and white cat, that he realised how the cat had got to the foot of those stairs.
---
once upon a time, there was a little girl who already had two cats.
it was a very bad winter. it was very cold, and the snow lay thick on the ground. she began to hear her mum and dad talking about "that bloody black thing" that, she gathered, was another cat that had taken to sneaking in through the cat flap at night, and sleeping on the kitchen table with the other two cats. her dad kept throwing his slipper at it, but "that bloody black thing" was very persistent and, eventually, the family gave in and adopted the cat.
she was, actually, a beautiful longhaired tortoishell, and turned out to have the sweetest, most loving nature of any cat the little girl had ever, or (she suspects) would ever, encounter. it was easy to tell when the cat was asleep, since that was the only time she ever stopped purring.
the little girl grew up with that cat, and they were very, very firm friends.
when the little girl was twenty, the beautiful cat died, and she was heartbroken. a dozen years later, she still missed her and, very occasionally, dreamed about her. when this happened, she would wake up crying, missing her friend terribly, wishing only to bury her face into that soft, sweet-smelling fur, and hear that thunderous, throbbing purr once more.
---
once upon a time, the little boy with the black and white cat grew up to have a son. one day, whilst the (now) man and his (now) wife were visiting the son, his girlfriend and their son, in their new house, the man and his wife went outside for a smoke (so they wouldn't damage the health of the man's grandson). whilst they were outside (along with the man's son and his other son, who was staying with his brother and family for a while), a big black and white cat jumped up on to the fence beside them and, with thunderous purrs and imperious and insistent headbutts, demanded as much fuss as they were prepared to give him. delighted with this amazingly sweet natured animal, the man and his wife questioned the young men about this cat. they were horrified to learn that the previous tennants had left the cat behind when they moved, and he was living in the garden of the abandoned house next door. the brothers had been feeding him, but that was as far as it went, as they were all on a very low income, and couldn't afford to do any more than that. and besides, living outside, the poor animal, of course, had fleas, and they didn't want the fleas in the house (especially with the baby) if they could help it, and couldn't afford to treat them properly.
the man and his wife's hearts melted.
they were on holiday that week, and were going away. they decided, however, that as soon as they returned, they would adopt this sweet and abandoned animal, and give him the loving home that he deserved.
---
ladies and gentlemen, i take great pleasure in introducing you to Max The Cat.
i never thought i would ever again meet a cat as sweet-natured and chilled out as my beloved and much-missed tortoishell.
but i think he comes pretty close.
this is the view i've had for much of the weekend, at least when i've sat still for more than five minutes, since he comes and lies contentedly on my chest:
accompanied with affectionate headbutts to the chin, and a purr like the throb of an engine.
i think i'm in love.
.
freezing to death in Norfolk, with added fungus.
....well...not all the time...
from monday to friday this week, we've been on our annual it's-october-and-we've-got-a-week-off-let's-go-park-up-somewhere-beautiful-for-a-few-days jaunt. this year, it was Thetford Forest in Norfolk. it's been a favourite campervan haunt of ours since a friend mentioned it a few years ago. we've been two or three times, now, though not for about three years, for various reasons. and it was as quiet and peaceful as we remembered it. it's managed by the forestry commission, and is basically a vast triangular tree farm, consisting of mainly pine, but with a few pockets of deciduous planting here and there. as i said, we love it. it's so vast that despite the public access to the many many rides and dirt tracks and pathways that crisscross it, you often get the impression that you've got the whole place to yourself (well - you and the wildlife, that is...)
as usual, i took lots of pics and, amateurish though they are, i think they might give a better impression of why we love the place than i could with twenty-six letters and a handful of punctuation. therefore, a photostory of our holiday folows:
from monday to friday this week, we've been on our annual it's-october-and-we've-got-a-week-off-let's-go-park-up-somewhere-beautiful-for-a-few-days jaunt. this year, it was Thetford Forest in Norfolk. it's been a favourite campervan haunt of ours since a friend mentioned it a few years ago. we've been two or three times, now, though not for about three years, for various reasons. and it was as quiet and peaceful as we remembered it. it's managed by the forestry commission, and is basically a vast triangular tree farm, consisting of mainly pine, but with a few pockets of deciduous planting here and there. as i said, we love it. it's so vast that despite the public access to the many many rides and dirt tracks and pathways that crisscross it, you often get the impression that you've got the whole place to yourself (well - you and the wildlife, that is...)
as usual, i took lots of pics and, amateurish though they are, i think they might give a better impression of why we love the place than i could with twenty-six letters and a handful of punctuation. therefore, a photostory of our holiday folows:
we arrived about four-ish, and parked up in our favourite spot under the trees, almost in the centre of the forest. in case you're wondering, Talulah isn't an all-terrain vehicle, there's a dirt road that leads right through the heart of the forest. the potholes in said road, however, had me gritting my teeth and screwing my eyes shut waiting for the crunch of a grounding. thankfully, hubby managed to avoid the deepest ones.
off we went for a walk down the beech avenue in the fading light...
curses!
as often happens here, we ended up stumbling back in the dark, not entirely sure of the precise path to follow, but we made it back eventually. a little later, when we were snuggled up in bed listening to the radio, the moon came up, and shone through the skylights...
the next day, we set off again into the forest, but this time, with a purpose. a friend had loaned us a fantastic book on foraging for and identifying edible mushrooms, and both being mushroom lovers, we just couldn't resist.
however, something had got there before us...
but! we proudly identified and gathered a hatful of common yellow rusula mushrooms
it being October, of course the forest was full of fungus, some of it very beautiful.
i have absolutely no idea what this one is, but it was soooo pretty!
so, on return to Talulah, we had, ta-DAAAAAH!!!!
mushrooms on toast, what we had picked our veryownselves! (*whisper* if i'm honest, they were a little bland, but salt and pepper helped, and the pride of foraging, identifying and cooking wild food adds a piquancy all of its own) accompanied, for me, at least, by yarrow tea (see top of pic), as i was developing a stinking cold, and yarrow can be very effecacious in knocking it on the head.
accompanied, of course, by a good might's sleep.
camper tip: hats in bed = essential at this time of year - the wind was blowing straight across the North sea from Norway, and it was fecking FREEZING cold!
have to say though, the cold is kinda worth it when you get to wake up to this...
----
the next day, we headed off to a place charmingly named Wells-Next-The-Sea, on the north coast, because even we can get bored walking around a pine forest for five days, and i had very fond memories of the beach, and the deli on the seafront (which, i was sad to learn, no longer sell the delicious blueberry brownies we had the last time we were there :(
the beach, however, was as lovely as i remembered. unfortunately, the Norwegian wind was still blowing hard. the patterns you can see on the sand are, in fact, caused by a mist of fine grains being blown across the surface. the effect of the brilliand sunlight on these streamers of sand was shimmeringly magical, and utterly mesmerising. sadly, not quite enough to distract from the bone-chillingly cold wind, so we escaped into the trees to shelter from it.
a little piece of heaven.
----
it was so cold that night that we almost threw in the towel and buggered off home. however, we decided not to, and were soooo glad that we did.
heading back to Thetford Forest, this is what greeted us:
the wind had died somewhat and, in amongst the trees, it was almost warm. so off we went for another wander.
along the way, we encountered deer,, which we managed to sneak up on admirably (i thought) and photograph.....
.....and this singular construction....
it's not a sunken cabin, but one of several little constructions roofed with black-painted corrugated iron, created as a haven for the local adder population.
and just across the way was this stunning specemin of fungushood:
we instantly recognised it. here's one we found earlier:
these pics were taken the very first time we went there and, as you can see, these things are bloody ginormous!
excitedly, i whipped out the mushroom ID book, and we were thrilled to discover that this was not only a parasol mushroom (of course!), but....it was edible!
we grabbed the prize, and hot-footed it back to Talulah to fry it up in breadcrumbs.
it. was. utterly. UTTERLY. delicious.
and so, with a sense of triumph and euphoria, we headed home the next day for something even more exciting than delicious wild food.
but that's the subject of the next post.........
.
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