my family and its changing shape.

Aaaaaah... It works!

Having sent out my first ever post, I had a slight panic attack. I thought:" What if I never find my own concoctions again? What if I cannot figure out how to add on a new post?".

All is still well in the world, and it would seem that those clever people who thought this up, have taken into account semi-dummies like me.

There is so much I'd like to write, that I don't really know where to begin.
I think I'll tell you a bit about the latest change in the composition of the members of my household.

Since yesterday afternoon I have adopted two cats. Not fluffy little kittens, but fully-grown, you might even say over-grown, adult female cats. They are sisters, 5 years old, and I found them in the local rescue kennels. Originally they had been brought in as a three-some. Mother Twinkle, who's 6-she clearly had a teenage pregnancy!-, with her daughters Star and Sky, all of them very overweight. They have now been on a diet of dry cat biscuits since they arrived there, which was on the 5th of January. Despite 2 months of water and dry food, it still required a great deal of strength to lift the carry-case, with the two daughters in it, in the car.

In the past I have had cats, but never more than one at a time. These two are more or less stuck together like glue, so they were not to be separated. That actually suits me perfectly. I run a little shop, which is contained in the same building that I live in. The decision was made that cats are lovely companions, but not everyone likes them, so they will not be allowed in the shop. Hence, why two of them is perfect to keep each other company during shop opening times.

Now, I've had plenty of experience with cats, something that cannot be said about my Dearly Beloved. In fact, he will forever be remembered as "the man who shooed the cats away"!
Some 25 years ago, long before I knew him, when he was only just together with his first wife, she decided to get 2 kittens. Apparently he committed the offence of shooing them away and later laying down a "no pets" rule, simply because he had no clue how to approach cats. He has never been allowed to forget since, and all who have crossed his path have been informed accordingly.
This has not put me off, I have converted the unconvertible ones before...

His vast gap in the knowledge about cats showed when we went to the kennels to take a look.
I managed to get him in with me in the cage where our 2 feline girls resided. He clearly acted like a fish out of the water. I must give him his dues though, he really did well. Gingerly stroking Millie (formerly known as Sky) on her furry head, he exclaimed:" Oh! Wow! This one is really soft. And she has such a lovely coat, so shiny and clean!" Followed by: "How do they get it like that? Do you give them a bath?"... Bless!

He's been at work today, and so has not seen much of our new little charges, whilst I have been at home all day and therefor have had a better chance to get to know them a bit.
My daughter (Little Haggis, who is seven) and I both didn't care much for the names Sky and Star, and after having established that neither cat actually reacted to their names being called, we thought it wouldn't harm to re-name them. Having debated a number of suggestions, we settled for Millie and Sammie. Millie is the biggest and completely black, while Sammie is slightly smaller and has a lovely tortoise shell pattern. Dearly Beloved insists on addressing them both as "he" and "him", even though I keep reminding him that they are female. I think it might have something to do with the fact that he does not like feeling outnumbered by quite such a large amount of female creatures in this house. Until a few months ago, I also had my Little Big Boy in the house. My Little Big Boy is 17 and completely of Belgian origin, just like myself. Since last September he has more or less left the house to join the merchant navy. He's currently at college, but not for that much longer. In just a few short weeks, he'll be leaving these shores and sail out on the wide seas to the west of Africa on his first ever voyage.
That means of course, apart from the odd weekend when the Little Big Boy is at home, Dearly Beloved is the only male present. Thankfully for him, the cats cannot tell him off. Of course it is my duty to tell him off at regular intervals-what else are we women for, than to keep our men on the straight and narrow?-, and Little Haggis does a perfect impression of my own self when it comes to exactly that, so the poor soul is very much hen-pecked.
Little Big Boy sticks up for Dearly Beloved, when he is around, which in turn results in Little Haggis and myself concentrating our full attention on aforementioned Little Big Boy, who will then end up getting the full load. Inadvertently this means that he does indeed lighten the load for Dearly Beloved, if it were not quite in the way he had imagined to do so.

It's getting late here. I am a bit of an insomniac, but I'm desperately trying to become a reformed insomniac and to sleep when the rest of the house is asleep. It would be better for me to go to bed now. With a bit of luck I will find my way back into my blog tomorrow or some other time soon.

Night night. x