The CAT sat on the mat

A wise man once said that you should be careful what you wish for. I think the idea behind this warning is that you might actually receive your wish, only to instantly regret it, as might be the case if you were suffering from mild embarrassment and idly wished for the ground to open up and swallow you. Get the idea?

You should, as we have just  discovered, also be careful what you order from glossy catalogues. And here’s why:

Earlier this week we ordered a new doormat from a catalogue. The picture of the doormat showed a picture of a happy feline with the caption ‘A spoilt cat lives here’. We also decided to order one for my Mum and Dad as a fun present, as they  are also keen on cats. (Though whether cats are keen on them is another question…)

The cat doormats arrived today just after lunchtime in what seemed like a rather large box for such relatively small items. We soon found out why. Some great nelly at the catalogue’s dispatch centre had sent us not a pair of cat doomats, but…

…a pair of size ten CAT  boots! CAT, if you didn’t know, is a leading brand of high quality workwear. I actually already have a couple of pairs of CAT thermal socks, but I don’t need any boots to go with them. And Smoky, our own cat, also doesn’t need any boots, as they probably weigh more than he does. And besides, being a three-legged kitty he would need one-and-a-half pairs rather than just one pair of boots.

We have arranged to return the boots and have reordered the doormats. Let’s hope we get the correct items next time.

Oh, and as another wise man (ie, me) said: ‘You just can’t get the staff, can you!’






An uncanny moment occurred during one of this evening’s hands of Lexicon (our favourite wordy card game) when I led with AWFUL and Shana countered with WHIRLS. Little to Shana’s knowledge, I had the word TAMER all ready to put on the table, thus allowing me to add the value of whatever cards Shana had left, and so bringing her nearer to the fateful ‘out’ score of one hundred.

‘There! “Tamer”,’ I said, setting down my cards. ‘As in “lion tamer”,’ I added.

Without a word, Shana held up her last four cards. Which, if you read the title of this post instead of just diving in, you will probably guess spelled LION. A chunky thirty-two points onto Shana’s score. But one of those times when we try to figure out what the probability might be of the two words coming out at the same time. Billions to one, we like to think. Cue, as usual, the Twilight Zone theme. Maybe we’d be better playing ‘Snap’ instead.


Today was what is often called a ‘red letter’ day. Strictly speaking, though, this wouldn’t be entirely true, as the letters on our pack of Lexicon playing cards are black.

The big achievement? Shana managed to get a ten-letter word, which is the longest you can make in Lexicon (so yah-boo! to Channel Four’s Countdown with their mere nine-letter bonanzas 🙂 ).

The word? I’ll print it in block caps like the cards. Oh, and Shana didn’t have to use the joker to stand for a spare letter: it was all there waiting to be found. The word was RELOCATION.

So Shana gets the gold star for first ten-letter word of the year. Not only that, but she beat me three games in a row. As Shakespeare said, .You can go off people, you know.’ 🙂

Apple and blackberry crumble

Not content with dishing up a rack of bananalicious flapjacks (see previous post) Shana, later in the afternoon, also rustled up a mighty fine apple and blackberry crumble (easily as good if not better than any shop bought equivalent, and believe me we have eaten a few of those in our time). We devoured the crumble, topped with lashings of custard, for our late afternoon/early evening meal and the crumble is now all (repeat, ALL) gone. Hence no pics. Just grab an empty mixing bowl and stare at the inside for a moment and you too can recreate the ALL GONE experience 🙂

As ever, Shana’s portions were so generous that I eschewed a side plate of chips.  Having demonstrated such great restraint, I can only pencil in the margins of this blog the following note: ‘If hungry later, only self to blame.’