Saturday, November 28, 2009

Thursday, November 26, 2009

Song of the copper bear

Tonight the wind cat plays with the copper bear that flies above the house. The dogs go to the door. It is dark, time to walk the village bounds before sleep. She rises to go and as She opens the door some of the night rushes into the house. Moonshadow fingers of winterbone trees dapple the ground with dark and silver. I slip through the door, out from the light and into the night, to follow.
She turns. " Go back. It's cold. Stay warm in the house," She says.
But I jump up, into Her arms, a ginger scarf and gloves of bright fur to warm Her as they walk. She pushes Her face into flame fur and we warm each other as She carries me around beneath star and sky and bright moon. As we near the house again its lights shine out a welcome. She breathes in the scent of cat and sighs, holding me close.
" I love you, Maurice."
We close the door on the darkness.
Outside the wind cat still plays with the copper bear. In the wind, the copper bear sings.

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Borrowed words.

Things that are wild.
The west wind. Waves at sea. Flames. Distant stars, so many. The bone white moon. Hawk flight. Firelight in a cat's eyes.

Things that are tame.
Being inside, listening to the wind outside. A still shore. Rainsong on a roof. The smell of baking bread. Firelight in a cat's eye.

The Glass Man

A few days ago She left the house early. We heard her talking. She said She was going to play with The Glass Man. Some time ago She read a book called The Girl with Glass Feet. Could this be a man completely made of glass, living a fragile existence by the edge of the land?
Whoever he is She came home tired but happy. It seems that soon we will have a big piece of glass on the wall by the cooker.
Now we are wondering whether She could make a panel with a bright burning tiger.





Monday, November 23, 2009

Busy days, winter soup.



She has been painting.




Martha has been studying art.




And we have all been helping with the washing up.




Yum, cream of carrot soup. Bright orange. Just right.




Just needs mouse croutons.

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Words

In the warmth of the evening house the reader, who was also an artist, read about the writer, glass in hand, and wondered about how intertwined might be the lives of the writer in the novel and the writer of the novel. The cats were all suitably unimpressed by the convoluted sentence. Maurice draped a casual tail across Her shoulder and took a closer look.









He thought that the book was very heavy, had many words in, but on the whole it was not as comfortable as a cushion.

A Study in Red, Black and White; or, Cat Uses Dog as Cushion.


Thursday, November 12, 2009

Cat's tummy makes the world glow.



Outside, early morning curiosity. Morning light makes ginger glow. Warm house, cold outside and later rain, so we all stayed in to help.




John came and took away paintings for an exhibition at The Imagine Gallery which is in a place that is a long way away, called England. We helped him pack by holding things in place while he stuck bubbles with tape.




But Kiffer was lazy and melting from the warmth of the fire, stretched out long as long so no one else ( other than Martha) could sit there. One long cat!




Now it is raining outside. A small wind howls and yowls and tries to get its paws beneath the doors. And we are warm and dry and cosy. Winter.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

One evening in Treleddyd Fawr: or the cushion cats









Outside rain drums on the roof. Patter patter pitter patter. Inside flames curl orange bright. We are cushion cats.

Saturday, November 7, 2009

Things that cats need to learn.

Elmo needs to know that if he sits on the cat food box She can't get the cat food out of the box.
Martha needs to know that ignoring Floss when she stares at her doesn't make her go away.
Kiffer needs to know that if he puts his head under the cat food packet when we are being fed he will get cat food on his head.
Max needs to know that the fire can get very hot.
Maurice just needs to know that we all love him, even when he is grumpy.

( And you all need to know that scratching my door to wake me up at 5 in the morning does not work in the winter when it is dark and weeing outside the door because you are angry because I have not got up to feed you does not make me very happy!)