Thursday, 18 April 2013

Briefs and Pants!

"How Did That Happen?"

I uttered out loud as I entered the room and found the errant Percy – a neighbourhood cat who believes he is entitled to go wherever he please; prancing and rolling around; frolicking and cavorting - keeping well out of my reach.

Predictably frisky, he played to me as his audience and flaunted himself in all his black and white glory, only this time he sported a new additional accessory – that of ………


In the past I have had the dubious privilege of being the recipient of gifts presented to me by Percy; including -

a small pink glove from a child


a man's navy sock

The sources of these gifts were unknown to me and I am in no doubt that they were surreptitiously removed by Percy without any awareness of the rightful owners, unless of course, the child is still suffering from the psychological scars of being mugged by a black and white cat comparatively bigger than the average sized small dog!

So I could only presume that Percy may have had someone in mind with whom he was thinking of making a present of my admittedly scanty garment. As he is a rather large, spirited and independent cat, with a tendency for biting - who permits stroking and attention only on his terms, I could foresee problems in any attempt I would have to make to extricate him from his chosen attire and possible surprise gift. 

How it had happened I could only guess, but somehow – whether intentionally or unintentionally, he must have rubbed against the clean clothes drying over an airer and managed to put both his head and two front paws through the pants!

Percy retreated crossly with a "grrrrrrr..." into a cardboard box full of Country Living magazines as I made futile attempts to free him.

Eventually, relatively unscathed - after a chase worthy of any Tom and Jerry cartoon and before he could flee with my apparel through the cat flap, I was able to retrieve them, following which he departed annoyed and huffing. 


"How Did That Happen?"

I demanded furiously as I stood looking at the foundations and footings at La Petite Maison and realised that the architect must have drawn the plans for the extension to a lesser dimension than was required.

Measuring tape out, plans consulted and.......................

Oh Yes! Can you believe it - the extension is 1 metre shorter than the length it should have been!

I Am Not Going To Get Stressed!


"How Did That Happen?"

I whispered in disbelief as I stared in horror at the tiling catastrophe that greeted me in the bathroom at La Petite Maison. My gorgeous handmade tiles formed a pattern like undulating waves - not one line was straight; the look was purely and simply higgeldy piggeldy! (I'm sorry but I couldn't bring myself to photograph it!)

I had wanted a hint of sea-side in the bathroom scheme, but to be honest this simply made me feel sea-sick! Mr Long-Suffering stood beside me in miserable silence, eyeing up the disaster that had unfolded as a result of us uncharacteristically leaving an unknown tiler alone and unsupervised.


So to summarise;

The Architect did not follow his brief and La Petite Maison is now La Très Petite Maison.

The Tiler's work was nothing short of pants, and requires radical remedial action;

however on the positive side

At least I managed to successfully foil Percy in his attempt to air my laundry in public!

I'm off to do some gardening and de-stress!


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