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" Imagination is more important than knowledge "
Albert Einstein
Tags >> poetry

Cats and artists

Posted by: Aitch

Tagged in: thoughts , poetry , pets , Oscar , Mavis , cats , birman , artists , artist , animals , animal , Aitch


As I think I've probably mentioned elsewhere previously, it's interesting how often I discover that artistic friends are more inclined to have a pet cat or just like cats than non-arty friends. I have always adored cats, can't imagine my life without actually owning one or two, and I make a bee-line for them wherever I see one.

I remember having to recite a poem as part of my drama lesson when I was about 12 - normally I wasn't that interested in reciting poetry, but this one involved cats and made me smile, so I thought I'd bring back those memories and try and get some photos to accompany it. I'm sure all cat owners will agree it's certainly true!

Cats sleep anywhere, any table, any chair.
Top of piano, window-ledge, in the middle, on the edge.
Open draw, empty shoe, anybody's lap will do.
Fitted in a cardboard box, in the cupboard with your frocks.
Anywhere! They don't care! Cats sleep anywhere.

Written by Eleanor Farjeon (1881 - 1965)


To prove my point, here's a selection of my cats sleeping in various places:

This is Oscar sleeping in one of his "proper" areas - a specifically bought cat shelf!

Here are two sleeping beauties on the decking a few years ago.

This is our previous Birman, Thelma, sleeping underneath our old scanner.

Oscar's favourite place at Christmas!

Oscar when he was 17 weeks old, curled up on top of a tool box....

Mavis deciding our curled up washing line makes a good bed!

Oscar, on the other hand, prefers the dirty wash basket!

This, however, is his usual position every evening, on Keith's lap.

Aren't cats just ace?

You Promised . . . I Promised

Posted by: facingkath


I know I am not alone in having been in an abusive marriage; sadly I am not alone in having been treated in any of the ways described below. I know I am not alone in writing poignant and distressing recollections; but it just had to be written. This was written a good few years after the demise of my marriage. I chose to leave, perpetuated by a particular incident; I'll probably write about that too at some point. It took me 5 years to gather up the courage to do so. I couldn't believe how someone who 'loved' me? could treat me like this and I make no apologies for the naivety of this piece.

You promised to love me for ever.
You promised your vows to me.
I promised to love you for ever.
I promised my vows to you.
I respected you
You respected nothing
I gave you my body, my love, my honesty 
You gave me distress, upset, heartache, abuse.
I made you unaccountably irritated, annoyed, impatient.
You made me fearful, restrained, introverted, desperate.
I drowned in pity
You drowned in beer.
You took away my self esteem, passion, decisions, self image
I took away our son.
I tried so hard!
You tried to destroy me
I forced a smile
You forced me to do things I did not want
I changed for self preservation
You changed me indelibly
You broke my spirit, possessions, our son's toys  
I broke my heart
You dreamt of god knows what
I dreamt I was killing you, I might be happy one day
I felt lost, unloved, pathetic 
You felt empowered
I reported you to the G.P. but only once
You reported me as mentally unstable to the police
You threw vile things at me
I threw away my life for you
You left me bereft

Had Shakespeare known the internet

Posted by: facingkath


I'm not honestly sure why I suddenly came up with the urge to write about this... such is the way my mind works. I use the internet a lot more than I used to, blogging, social networking, searching, helping son with homework, you name it I pretty much do it. I thought it would be fun to get Shakespeare's take on all things IT. One or two of the quotes I knew and you can guess where I got the other ones from can't you !!

Had the internet been around in Shakespeare's Day

Would the bard have taken to it?

Would it have been an improbable fiction,

Might he have scanned the browsers

And searched with bated breath;

Until he found a hit, a very palpable hit.

And away quickly to write it down

On parchment page with quill.

Or, do you think he'd struggle somewhat?

Feeling a blinking idiot!

Unable to master or see the point

Of social networking skills -

Maybe he'd message comically

And laugh oneself into stitches.

Which makes a change from LOL

Expletives being replaced with WTD

What the dickens! Perhaps?

Oh! would he see it as chaos is come again

Or there's method in the madness?

Would he blog his poetry

And tweet to let us know

When latest play being performed

Or include it as his status.

Might he set up a website for all to see

Oh! What would you do Will Shakespeare

Had the internet been with thee?

Enough of my musings now -

It's not the be-all and end-all.

Can't replace the wondrous thrill of books,

Or meeting people face to face.

But I'd like to think the bard succeeded

And 'IT' held an honoured place.

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