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Posts Tagged ‘Supporting characters’

Vale Her Majesty

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Her Majesty, Madame Mim.

2016 was a pretty pants year all round. On the 10 December, I had to say goodbye to one of the housemates who featured on this blog: Madame Mim, you’d know her better as Her Majesty.

She was 19 years old, which is a very good age for a cat. My sister got her as a kitten, so we’ve had her in our lives a long time. I will miss her steadfast presence in my life, the comforting weight of her next to me, the special way she tinkled her bell when she was unimpressed, the click of her claws when she walked on the floorboards, the warmth of her purr. So many things.

I remember when she was a kitten, and she singed her whiskers investigating a candle. I remember when she was old enough to be let out of the house: she got stuck on our patio roof. I remember when I moved to Watermans, and took her with me. It was the first time she’d ever dealt with stairs. It took a month, and me taking her to the top of them, before she would climb them.

When I painted, I had to have two water containers: one for my brushes, one for her; otherwise she’d drink my paint water.

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You are in the spot that I want to nap in.

She was the silent mass of black who kept me company through assignments and blog posts, almost every bath I’ve had involved her sitting on the bathmat to keep me company….or insisting she be patted while I bathed. In the last couple of years, she’d deciding drinking the water at the bottom of the shower was a delicacy. I haven’t had a shower to myself and unobserved for about 2 years: she was outside the shower door, waiting for me to get out so she could get in and drink the shower water. Being able to shower without a feline deadline has been an adjustment.

The silent reminders (and the many not-so-silent hints) that it was approaching dinner time. She would start off subtle, then get very chatty.

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Waiting patiently. This is the last photo I took of her.

When she got chatty, I always figured it was because she thought she could talk people. And that I understood. Sometimes I did: the cat bowl is empty, let me out…other times it was a regular gossip session on her end, and I just acted like I understood.

The ability to communicate a thousand expressions with the twitch of an ear or the change of an eye.

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The you’re trying my patience expression

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You’re trying my patience, but I am hopeful of pats. Now put the camera down.

Her ability to both dribble, and later on to drool, when she was content. There’s a definite difference between dribble and drool…something I’ve learned over the years.

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So content I am about to dribble.

The steady, comforting presence to the right of my pillow on the bed.

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Official spot

She was a very mannered bedfellow: she’d miaow, or sit on the floor next to the bed looking hopeful until I patted the cover, then she’d jump up (towards the end of her life it was sometimes more of a scramble) and nestle into position.

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Hopeful expression

Her diabolical strategy for waking me up, mainly when she wanted to get under the covers. It involved moving her head until her whiskers just touched my face and then purring. When that didn’t work and I rolled onto my other side, walking around my head (on my pillow and, yes, treading on my hair) and doing the same on the other side of my face. And…when that didn’t work and I rolled over to my original side, walking around my head (on my pillow, still treading on my hair) to do the same again to the original side of my face. Diabolical, stubborn…and impossible to resist forever.

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The face of a cat who has just woken up their owner

Her love for the sunny spot: particular favourites were on the sofa, on my bed and on the patio. She could bake for hours on the patio paving stones.

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One sunny spot, reserved.

Sometimes when I came back from work, I could never be entirely sure she’d moved during the day as she was occupying the same spot on the bed. She had a particular fondness for covers folded over, pyjamas or clothes left on the bed: anything you could nestle into and nap for long periods of time.

Her patient presence, even when I tried it very severely by introducing a new cat into the house. I had two single cat household cats, in one house.

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The expression on her face says it all

She tolerated it, she mostly tolerated him being annoying.

I think – although this is even more anthropomorphic personification – it’s been rough for him. One day she was there, the next she was gone.

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Awkward Housemate Photos, sadly no one is wearing a bad Xmas sweater

She did have a good life, she was loved and she is missed. And I was with her to the very last.

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Gone but not forgotten

The house feels a little emptier now.

It echoes in strange places now, and in others is strangely silent.

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The other Fog Index

On Saturday (yep: we’re now almost up-to-date), I got out in the garden in the early morning and weeded. I filled up my entire waste bin with weeds from my front garden.

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Looking into the Rising Sun

It was very pretty.

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Slightly different shot.

Her Majesty decided she wanted to get out in it (she is the project manager). You can see some of the weeds in the patio planters…

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If I can’t see the rest of the world, is it really out there?

The dawning sun through the the mist, and through my front door was very pretty.

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Just one more photo and THEN I’ll start weeding.

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Smugness at stealing the middle of the bed. Smugness.

Her Majesty, Madame Mim, hasn’t been on the blog for a while. Since the last time I “properly” updated the blog (June), she’s had a couple of traumas. Namely the removal of 3 teeth.

And in case you wondered: there is a tooth fairy for cats, but s/he pays out direct to the vet. With each tooth costing roughly $333.33 AUD. Cat teeth are like cat years, they manage to cram more into the same period as humans. She lost her upper canines, so no more little cat fangs there. She still dribbles when you pat her…

Speaking of cat years: HM is actually 17-18 years old. That makes her ~84 according to the useful chart at the vet tooth fairy. And she’s still got (most) of her teeth.

It’s not many 84 year olds you see climbing up on window sills:

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All hail the great mid century styled vessel.

She does this occasionally: sometimes I find her on the mantlepiece, where she’s jumped up to from a window still. Other times I find her on great aunt Eileen’s buffet (where she had to jump from the floor).

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Looking for the weekend.

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It takes no time at all and it’s addictive.

So how could I not?
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There are so many things to say:
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And Captain Pouncealot is very photogenic:house-539
Pun intended:
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Again: how could I not?

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Some days it is really hard to make my bed: some housemate or other always gets in the way:

Supermodel Card

Supermodel Card

I know I am biased, but I think he even he gives Feminist Ryan Gosling a little run for his money:

house-529Of course he has to do it without Ryan’s classic lumberjack look:

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A little late for the actual date, but who gives a sh*t:

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Yep, having a little fun with this:
house-532-b Last one I promise:
house-530 Feminist Captain Flouncealot 😉

I promise to not go looking for personalised meme generators. Really. Truly.

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While I am on the thank you trip, another person’s contribution to my household shall not go unacknowledged: that of Mme Luscious who is a long time reader, but first time appearer 😉

You could be lime

You could be lime (with cameo by depressed sage)

Backing up a bit: a bunch of us have our birthdays in November/December, so we have an annual girls dinner to celebrate in that period. Rule is no presents, but Mme Luscious came with a couple of lovely little presents for peeps.

That Mme Luscious, she is so naughty 😉

I was lucky enough to be given a voucher for a large hardware chain…which was lovely, although still very naughty of her 😉

Through the miracle of modern technology, the voucher was transformed into a Red Centre Lime (terracotta pot in the picture above).

The Red Centre Lime was developed by CSIRO, they crossed Australian native citrus with modern citrus varieties to create plants with “with larger than normal fruit, consistent yields and the unique flavour and texture of Australian native limes.” (Source: New CSIRO Lime Varieties). How amazing is that?

According to the CSIRO site:

‘Australian Blood’ (also known as ‘Australian Red Centre’) is a hybrid between an acid mandarin and a native finger lime. It has blood-red rind, flesh and juice.

How amazing is that? Thanks to the generosity (and naughtiness) of Mme Luscious, I have a plant that is the culmination of CSIRO research in my house. CSIRO research, in my house!

CSIRO research that is not the CSIRO diet, in my house! How amazing is that?

That Mme Luscious, even her naughtiness is lovely.

p.s. Readers should note that no sage plants were harmed in the making of this post (blue pot), it gets a little down in the heat (who can blame it). It was fed water and perked right up again.

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While I was checking off things I achieved in my 2012 Houseolutions, I realised there were a couple of things I hadn’t told you about and a couple of people I hadn’t thanked or acknowledged for their help achieving some of my goals 😮

So here goes one acknowledgement on the topic of FREECYCLED Retro Pots!!!!! In the middle of the year, The Coffee Fairy found and helped me freecycle two extremely large and very retro concrete planters:

Sanded, planted but not yet painted

Sanded, planted but not yet painted

Being as they were so big, I actually had to drive around with them in my little hatchback for a couple of days until The Amazant Monsieur H came over to help me unload them. Going around corners was fun.

I sanded them, but haven’t painted them yet. The lime tree and the blood orange tree got planted into them as soon as I was done, because they were getting rootbound in their pots.

When I do get it together to get some proper concrete paint, they will be painted…grey. No surprises there, really.

p.s. I just did a search in grey to find I have mentioned it in 21 posts so far…clearly I like grey.

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