I hope everyone’s having a great Christmas. I’m having a quiet one in Foxton with Mum. So far it’s involved a lot of animal hair, and food.
Those are pretty much two of my favorite things right there. I have this tradition, that within minutes of arriving, I’ve managed to cover all the dark clothing I packed with cat and dog hair. Only it’s not so much a ‘tradition’… I’d actually call it more of a compulsion…
I can’t help it, I see cats, I pat cats, the cats shed, they purr and dribble, I make baby talk, then go search out the dogs, rinse and repeat.
I thought instead of writing, because meh. Holiday. I’d show some photos of what I’ve been up to.
As per tradition, the file sizes are freaking HUGE, because this isn’t my laptop and I have no idea how to resize stuff on here. I’m pretty sure Mum doesn’t have photoshop, lightbox, or gimp lying around anywhere…
I have nicknames for these cats. I call Clyde Clydacious, and I call Bonnie Bon-diggidy. They like it. It makes them feel young and hip, and up with the play. Dad has nicknames for them too. He calls Clyde ‘that ginger cat’ and he calls Bonnie ‘that grey cat’.
Bon-diggidy is completely blind now. It’s a little scary, but she seems to do really well navigating on scent, sound, and touch alone. It helps that both the cats are so old now that they don’t stray too far from the house. They spend most of their time in an old tin shed in the backyard, that Dad has pimped out with warm fuzzy rugs, and baskets.
He says its because he doesn’t like them sleeping inside, but I know it’s actually because he loves them. I caught him outside a couple of days ago rubbing clydes tummy and baby-talking him. He was drooling, and purring away in kitty-heaven. Clyde was purring and drooling too.
Possum lives at Mum’s place. She’s the most cuddly cat I’ve ever met. However. Christmas eve wasn’t much fun. There were guests over, so Liam and I slept out in the lounge. Unfortunately the ‘adults’ were all up making noise until quarter to midnight. When they finally all stumbled to bed (after I’d ordered them to get the hell out of the kitchen for the second time – I get tetchy without sleep) Possum discovered that I was right there by the front door for her convenience.
At 1am, when she wanted to come in, I got up. at 1.30am, when she’d decided that outside was better I got up. At 3am, when she decided she wanted in, I ignored her until the scratching reached a fervor that was probably about to do damage to the door. At 3.45am I hissed at her as I let her back out again.
At 4am She scratched, I hissed, and grumbled, and she came back in.
at 5am, I ignored the scratching and carrying on until blessed silence came. When I opened my eyes next I found her looming over me, staring – piteously – at the door. I swore at let her out again.
At 6am, when one of the guests got up, and walked loudly through the lounge to the bathroom I sent him a death-glare. He tried a hesitant ‘good morning?’ that didn’t go over very well. I might have growled at him.
At 7am, when Mum got up to stand in the kitchen chattering excitedly about Santa Claus, and possum started scratching at the door again, I gave up on sleep entirely.
While the adults kept themselves busy in the bar out the back (no that’s not an exaggeration, there is an actual bar built on the back porch of Mum’s house) Liam and I built a gingerbread house together. It was messier than expected! And at one point the roof subsided, taking the North, and East walls with it.
After we’d patched up the construction issues, it all went pretty well. The gingerbread tasted pretty damn awful, but the icing was sugary and awesome. I made Liam do all the piping because he’s just finished a pastry course. I directed the jellybean placement, because if there’s one thing I know, it’s jelly beans.
I like spending Christmases in Foxton Beach, because not much happens here. It’s all about sleeping, wandering around the roads looking at batch renovations, and beach-side gardens, eating, sitting on the beach, and soaking up sun. After the year I’ve had I could do with a little soaking.
We did go for a wander to check out Mum’s new section. Once upon a time it had a third-word shack on it. She promptly sold the shack and it’s components for removal, and is now left with a square of parched earth, surrounded by weeds, and bits of shack that have yet to be removed.
They’re all unaccountably proud of the property. While they wandered around pointing out the lack of a sea-view, the bit that still has plumbing, and the piles of timber which will one day be taken away, and replaced by a driveway, I wandered around and took photos of old rubbish.
I enjoyed myself immensely – I never get to indulge in photography any more. It’s nice to revisit those little obsessions again.
I’m going to spend the next few days doing very little. On Tuesday I’ll be taking a bus to Napier, and guys? I’m going to be so excited to get some REAL summer. Comeon Napier! Don’t let me down here!
So what have you been up to over the Christmas break?