Go Team Tootill!

Our friend and colleague has been diagnosed with breast cancer.

She's getting the appropriate treatment, but we all decided that something should be done to fundraise for cancer research.

So what do a bunch of hard-drinking exercise-dodgers choose to do?

A 10k fun run, that's what....

So check us out at Team Tootill, http://www.run10ksponsorme.org/teamtootill!

She likes cats. Therefore a good sort!

Pigeon

My cats decided to have a friend round for Eurovision.

I was out, watching Manchester United win the Premiership, then off to dinner with my sister and cousin. So they figured it was safe.

I got home just in time to watch the voting, and settled down after closing the blinds. The pets were acting weird, nothing new there.

About 30 minutes into the voting, I noticed a pigeon's foot sticking out through the blinds. At first I thought it was too much champagne, but no - there was a pigeon sat on my windowsill, trying to blend into the dark window. It was doing just fine until it stuck the foot out for better balance.

So the Pesky Critters were shooed into the kitchen, while I tried to persuade the pigeon to leave. After 5 minutes, it had a name (Duckworth) and demonstrated some lovely swooping techniques as it evaded me, followed by some terrific crashing techiques as it landed on any unsuitable perch it could find.

Meanwhile, three very angry cats and a Jack Russell were going ballistic in the hallway. The tone was "Catch your own ******* pigeon, he's ours!"

Duckworth made it clear he was not a nocturnal pigeon and had no intention of going out into the dark to find somewhere to roost. I put him in a cat basket in the bathroom, to wait for morning. He seemed happy enough with the water and birdfood. In fact, after I let him out of the bathroom window he flew off, came back and sat on the windowsill.

I think he just wanted to annoy the cats.

My mum

Sadly, Rosie died on 7 May 2009.

The operation for the colostomy uncovered a tumour, which turned out to be aggressive and cancerous.

She was admitted to a local hospice.

Dr Kershaws Hospice

We had hoped to bring her home, but it was not to be.

Her funeral was this afternoon, and we requested family flowers only, with donations to Dr Kershaws from anyone else. If we won the big prize on the lottery and gave it to them, we'd not come close to repaying their kindness to Rosie and us.

TV exposure guaranteed

Just perusing the latest offering from Mike Whalley's blog.

http://mikewhalley.wordpress.com/2009/04/26/last-on-motd-my-camera-never-lies/

Another way to get noticed at the game is this:

i) Get seats in the same area as the new and VERY unpopular owners of your team (two rows in front and one seat to the left worked well)
ii) Turn up suited and booted for a big game, to be shown on Sky.

Instantly you look like part of the new establishment, and may have your identity speculated about. OR, as happened, you are viewed as a henchman for those personally responsible for wrecking a good club, and get verbally abused all evening!!

I must point out that although I'm not massively fond of the two family fiends described above, I didn't join in. I wasn't there, and it is pointless throwing insults and prawn sandwiches at the tv.

Never get mayo on your own carpet...

* fiends is not a typo, remember I know these two. and cut-n-paste the blummin link, I couldn't get insert hyperlink to work

Random warblings.

i) I have been enjoying the new F1 season.

I felt really sad that Honda were going to quit, and felt that Brawn GP might be filling the Back-Row-Minardi-Minardi role. Very happy to be proved wrong! I understand why Honda quit - and as the Lovely Kev now works for Honda, I felt pleased they were looking after the everyday concerns, and trying to avoid sacrificing too many ordinary jobs to keep the glamour side going. Lovely though Jensen Button is, he isn't marrying my niece in October! I know some have gone - but fingers crossed for Kev. Even if he is trying to sell me a pink Honda Jazz...

The BBC coverage of the event didn't show the driver's interview after, they felt Andrew Marr and Carol Thatcher were more important. And to think that they were supposed to be better than ITV!

ii) Phoebe had now progressed to the baby walker, and is loving her new wheels. Her brother has now progressed to putting his own shoes on, on the right feet, and we are hoping he can teach his father this new trick sometime soon.

iii) The Reservoir Mogs (Salford Posse) are all fine and well, while reports indicate that the Reservoir Mogs (Southern Chapter)and the Reservoir Mog (Gee Cross) are also fine and dandy.

iv) And me? Just pottering along, trying to make sense of stuff and rushing round like a maniac. I think I need a more booze-and-chocolate-fuelled life. Although I'm a stone lighter now, and the thought of smaller jeans is leading me away from the Krispy Creme and more towards the crisp salad. Who WOULD have thowt it?

Competitive critters

Now, how do you choose a winner out of this lot?

Mum was a leading contender. Stomach pains which turn out to be a mild blockage of the bowel, curable with a minor hernia operation. Right up to the point where they opened her up, found a very large and immovable tumour, and needed to perform an emergency colostomy. Followed by all sorts of medical intervention and she is still in hospital in a Catch-22; she can't leave until she gains weight, but can't/won't eat hospital food and is declining food parcels :(

Even by her standards, that is impressive Pesky Critter behaviour.

Bailey did try to give her a good run for her money, literally, by running away during a long walk. He ran off, in a strange area about 3 miles along the canal from home. Managed to get home in record time and to cross a 6-lane motorway & A-road junction. I was still running round the field off the canal bank, shouting like a lunatic and enrolling innocent passers-by in the search. All the while, the stumpy-legged git was heading for James's house, to have breakfast with the kids!

I called him lots of names, I don't recall Pesky Critter being one of them.

The worrying thought is this; the cats are very competitve. They have seen the bar set high, and may well fancy their chances.

Not welcome in my own home.

The pests - sorry, PETS - are getting out of hand.

As Mum is still in hospital and I work full-time, I'm not home as much as I would like. At first, as the only human tin-opener, I commanded some respect. But they have all developed a taste for dry food and sleeping on the bed, which means I am useful in the morning and a waste of space at any other point.

My insistence on claiming bedspace and sitting on the furniture has become an unbearable problem to them. If they could find a human trainer to take me in hand, they would.

Thankfully they lack independent wealth and the ability to use Google.