Curiosity almost kills the cat

My beloved furry boyfriend Charlie almost died today. He managed to get himself locked in the Postie's boot this afternoon - the Postie says it wasn't intentional - and it's only because the Postie was too lazy and fat to bike into town this afternoon that Charlie is still alive. Instead, the Postie took his car, and somewhere around five minutes after leaving home heard Charlie's plaintive ear piercing yowl from the boot. It's also lucky P didn't have his stereo blaring heavy metal at the time too. So instead of certain death in a hot boot, C was treated to a car ride in the front seat which he apparently rather enjoyed.

This afternoon let's all hug our cats, rejoice in their little quirks and annoying habits and be grateful they're not trapped in the boot.

minutes after putting the finishing touches on Sweeney's jersey, Charlie gives it a little love

Charlie loves the Postie. Especially when P is doing his shoulder exercises.

Sun, stardom, and screaming

My feet, Lyall Bay, this morning

Wellington is still experiencing some of the finest weather EVER in the history of Wellington, but yesterday me and Taylor would not have known it. We walked from Owhiro Bay Road up to Hawkins Hill, across to the Wind Turbine, over to Wrights Hill and over to the Skyline Walk. It was chilly. On the way to Mt Kaukau, the wind was so strong and cold and horrendous that at one stage I was sure I was going to get blown over. Huge mists were screaming over the hillsides. My pony tail was whipping into my face, I was having trouble going forward into the head-on northerly and we decided to pull the plug just after passing Crofton Downs. So we walked down off the ridge into the suburbs, through Otari-Wilton's Bush and back to Taylor's in Brooklyn. Once we were off the ridge we discovered what a flippin' glorious day it was. People were out doing their gardens and washing their cars and going to birthday parties. I was shattered at the end, and wondering if I can really do this thing. My knee was pretty sore, and my hips were screaming.

Sweeney, with his latest acquisition (his four teef) being very cosmopolitan at the Maranui Cafe

Today, I did my first cafe review. Seeing as it was another glorious day, me, Ange and Sweeney (who is nine-months-old tomorrow) went to Maranui Surf Lifesaving Club at Lyall Bay. I am pleased to report the hollandaise was very tangy, and my eggs were soaking in it.

"I really think the government ought to be putting more money into health care benefits for cats. Specifically, more meat. Preferably fillet steak," Charles Rothwell of Vogeltown told Radio New Zealand News today.

After hollandaise bliss and a bit of perving at the boy with the Side-Show Bob hair at Maranui, we went and bought a lemon tree and a blueberry bush. I planted these in our garden and Bramwell interviewed me as I dug the hole to plant the bush in. I am quite useless at digging holes, and was convinced that there was a layer of concrete just under the surface. So in the audio I am puffing away like a chain-smoker as I talk and dig . Bramwell is making a documentary for Radio NZ about carbon neutrality, and the reason I planted the trees is to offset the carbon emissions made during the two flights I've taken this year. The documentary will be played on April 15, but I don't know what time. Stay tuned, listeners.

Change of address

On Saturday, This is Chris Bramwell, Joe90 and myself will be moving into our new house in Vogeltown. The house is glorious. The landlady Dianna said no pets, but yesterday I talked her around by saying how great Charlie is, and how I would get one of those clever magnetic cat flaps, where only the cat with a special magnetic collar can get in the door, thus stopping any mangy flea taxis from entering our glorious abode.

I'm so pleased I get to keep my beautiful lovely white pawed boy that I wrote a poem ...

"The greatest cat in the world"

I can’t wait to see what things
To your magnetic collar cling
Or what things you will get stuck to
Like a motorbike or truck too
And how the cats and dogs you tease
Slam into the door while you enter with ease
When they snarl on the other side,
You’ll show them your bum from the safety of inside
And when Dianna comes to see you
She won’t smell any stinky cat pee – phew!
Because you’re the greatest cat in the world …

Knitting has changed my life

The theme of The Dominion Post's Summer Series is "My Best Year Ever". It got me thinking about my best year ever and everything that's happened in my 34 years of life. Looking back on 2006, I'd say this has been quite a watershed year for me, and here's why it's been so cool:

1. Sweeney Martin Edward O'Neill was born
2. Leonardo Blake Firestone was born
3. Mbenguele Kimpalou Kimberley Shinelle Albrina was born
4. I got my dream job - I am a Features Writer at a daily metro newspaper
5. I won an award for education reporting, and a tasty $1000 cheque
6. I moved back to Wellington
7. I saw Iggy Pop play live at the Big Day Out
8. I learned to play bad guitar - anyone for a round of Kumbyah?
9. I started my own jewellery label - but haven't got a name for it yet
10. I learned to knit and have two nice jersies with another one on the way
11. I met the Mbengueles, Neil and Becc, Susie Poole, and other amazing people who I adore
12. I've spent many a nice evening with my pals, my family and my cat, gazing out at the harbour, eating tasty food, watching crap telly at Matt and Nat's, knitting, huddling over a heater, wearing a beanie to bed (Wellington), wearing nothing to bed (Hamilton), playing netball and cheering on Tahana, fielding calls from people telling me Charlie has wandered into their house, singing Sweeney to sleep, pushing my bike up the hill, lying on my red couch or on my red duvet in my red room, skipping with Benichous, drinking cups of tea with Chris, doing yoga while the cat bites my ankles ...
13. I realised I am the star of my own movie

If we took a holiday ..

I'm thinking of titling all my posts after songs from now on. That should last .. three days maybe? Prizes go to people who guess the song and artist, bonus points for guessing when it was released and what album it's from. Any takers on this title?
Anyway, today is Last Day of Work Before Holiday. That make Kimpy happy. Kimpy like sleep in morning.
This morning was fairly typical- excruitiating. It goes a little something like this:

5am - Charlie, who has been sleeping all night and day with brief spurts of extreme cuteness just before bed time, wakes up. Proceeds to pounce on non-moving creases in the duvet cover, my hair, face, bare back if I turn away from him. Makes little noises that could be translated as I'm bored, play with me. Where's breakfast? etc. High decibel purring.

6am - Alarm goes off. However, am already awake, see above. Bladder very full but fails to outweigh last nagging thoughts that there maybe a few seconds more sleep left to be had.

6.15am - Out of bed and into shower without opening eyes. Pour water on self, shampoo, rinse, do rest of sleep-deprived body, cry with tiredness.

6.30am - Greet perky flatmate. Make cup of tea in desperate hope it has cocaine in it. Beat Charlie off with a stick as he tries to eat jellimeat out of the packet as I feed him. Be ignored by Charlie if he likes that particular flavour, or have Charlie climb my leg in starvation if it's a cheaper brand than he can be bothered eating.

7am - Get in car. Listen to the end of the soporphic financial update on Morning Report, hear bird song, which signals I am late for work. Dodge enormous trucks at Burger King roundabout. Just close eyes and drive.

7.10am - 9am Stare at computer screen. Drink 18 more cups of tea. Avoid eye contact with chief reporter.

So on Friday morning, when it's 7am and I am still wallowing in bed, I will be very happy indeed.

Things I am going to do over the break:
1. Ride my bike over the Rahu saddle
2. Read the Journalist and the Murderer
3. Finish Chloe's christmas stocking
4. Go to the Reefton New Year's Eve races and eat a hotdog on a stick with sauce
5. Drink at the Inangahua Tavern where the red carpet is

J'aime mon chat

Is it wrong to want to get home at the end of the day so you can be with your cat? Is it wrong to cuddle your cat in bed like it's a boyfriend replacement? Or stroll around pet shops looking for treats he might like? Am I the saddest woman who ever walked the earth?

Actually, no. If I were truly sad, Charlie would have his owqn blog, not just me raving about him in mine.

Anyway, some things about Charlie:
1. He's afraid of the cat flap
2. He doesn't have nads, but his scrotum is massive
3. He was found by the SPCA who named him Charlie
4. He likes Whiskas beef and vege casserole and NOTHING else unless it's from a human plate
5. His prowess at chasing toes and the strings on my bikini top is legendary
6. He likes to sleep on the pillow next to me, on clean washing, or on my feet
7. He answers to Charlie, c'mere, and hey you
8. He has a red name tag on a black collar
9. The vet says he is about a year old, maybe two years old
10. He has actually gotten in the shower with me on several occassions, and likes to drink bathwater