Visitors

Not been on the old pooter much this weekend, so there’s been bugger all writing, no posting, and only minimal browsing. Which is probably just as well. I’ve been feeling the need for a weekend off for a while now. That's the trouble with writing for a living – every day’s a working day. Unless you take a day off. Then it’s not like a working day. Unless you spend it worrying about work. Then it might as well be.

Anyway, we had series of visitations on Sunday – Rowan Grace MacBride made her first foray out to the sticks where She Who Must and I share a cave. Babies are... odd. Pink. Weird hands. Heavy. But not too dribbly. Which is always a plus. We try to dissuade dribbly people from visiting the house – it makes a dreadful mess of the soft furnishings. But it was nice for Fiona to see her niece for the first time, and bizarre to see Googling Brother Christopher all grown up and doting dad-like. Rather than his usual PotNoodling, Jethro Tull / Megadeath / Warcraft-playing self.

Rowan before her visit to Casa MacBride
Rowan before her visit: calm relaxed and never having seen someone from Fife before
Rowan spots someone from Fife
Rowan setting eyes on her aunty Fiona for the first time (note the look of fear and incredulity)


Then, when everyone had ooooo-ed and ahhhh-ed and made appropriate ‘no, she doesn’t look like a shaved monkey’ noises, eaten a huge thing of pasta and chips (this is Scotland remember – where everything can be improved by the addition of chips), scarfed down mounds of trifle, and gone off home again – Little Miss had a visitor of her own. A short-haired tabby of unknown origin.

Now that doesn’t sound like much, but this is the first time in about 14 months that she’s even seen another cat. We have no neighbours and the nearest farm’s quite a distance away. But here was another cat, ON GRENDEL’S VERANDA! There wasn’t any fighting, or shouting, or swearing, Grendel just sat and stared at the interloper, who sat and stared back. Then quietly loped off into the night.

But ever since she’s been nervous as hell, convinced that this other cat is going to sneak into the house and steal the cutlery, or cat food, or DVD player.

Meanwhile, I await feedback from Agent Phil about what may, or may not, become posts for pretty much the rest of the year here. Oh the excitement never ends...