With the likelihood of a pay-rise also came the reality that I would have to spend more time in the office, which meant that our cat, Heidi, would be left on her own for a good chunk of the week. Siberians are a particularly sociable breed and, having experienced whole days with her shadowing me as I move from room to room and having heard that she apparently sits on the window sill crying if I nip to the shops for a paper, I knew that we would need to welcome a second cat into the house.

We didn’t make things easy for ourselves, having set our hearts on a replica of Midnightstar Lily, a beautiful black-silver-shaded girl. The stork doesn’t bring cats like this every day. I sent a hopeful letter to Denise at Midnightstar explaining the situation and asking to be added to her waiting list. My first impression was very good; Denise sent me a polite, professional response within a few minutes, informing me that Lily had a batch of two-month-old kittens and so would not be producing any more for quite some time. She unselfishly pointed me in the direction of other breeders whom I might approach. I thanked her and thought that this would be the end of our correspondence. Little did I know …

A couple of days later Denise got in touch to say that a change in circumstances had caused one of Lily’s kittens to become available. I was worried that I might annoy her by trying to set up a date to come and visit over the imminent Bank Holiday weekend, since my partner, Clare, has a very bad cat allergy and we would have to be sure that the kitten wouldn’t set it off. Even if my emails backwards and forwards that Friday night did irritate her, Denise in no way showed it and we arranged to meet that Sunday.

Denise was not only extremely friendly but also a fantastic cat person. All of the kittens had lovely personalities and were exceptionally comfortable around humans, reacting well to being handled and quick to play. It was clear that they had been socialised and raised in a home environment where they had been given lots of attention. Conscious of eating too much into Denise’s day we suggested we leave after an hour of playing with the kittens and getting to know each other. I particularly like that Denise didn’t rush in to letting us register an interest; that only became a reality once she’d reassured herself that the kitten would be going to people who would love her.

After a couple of weeks the kittens were old enough to leave and so we began the 170-mile trip to Denise’s to pick her up. It became clear within twenty minutes that we had a character. Rather than cowering at the back of her carrier as Heidi did, this one asked to come out and, after a short time, set about trying to force the door open. She wasn’t scared at all, keeping this chatter up for the whole journey to her new home.

Her force of character showed itself once we finally arrived. We introduced her to Heidi, who responded with the expected hiss, and took her to her room. We were all set to keep them separated for a few days, but little cat wasn’t having it. Whereas Heidi stayed hidden as a kitten and never showed herself (which is why she got her name), this new kitten wanted to explore all over the house. She really is the most well-socialised little cat that I think I’ve ever been around.

Pebbles and Heidi quickly became friends, taking advantage of my turned back whilst moving ironing to nip into the bedroom together and steal a place on the bed. They play together, have plenty of rough and tumble, and follow each other around. We love having Pebbles in the family and owe a debt of gratitude to Denise for her flexibility, friendliness and, most importantly, masterful manner of producing beautifully socialised kittens.

Thanks to my parents (for purchasing the wood) and my sister and brother-in-law (for doing the craftwork and installation) Clare and I got to spend a couple of evenings this week emptying our two wardrobes, which have spent the last six months holding a few trees’ worth of books.

I haven’t got around to counting quite how many we have; it’s simply too many. It’s only by creative stacking that we’ve been able to put them all in place, so I’ve identified about twenty that will be given to a charity shop, so that we’ll have a little bit of space to hold the ones that will be undoubtedly purchased in the near future.

This is what our newly equipped office now looks like. (more…)

(Esperantan version mi afiŝos poste.)

Well, it’s not so new anymore, since we’ve been here since August 28th, but this is the first time I’ve gotten around to taking some photos.

So, welcome to our house.  This is it from the outside.

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I’m so mad at myself today.

I’m trying to be mature, but I could quite happily bang my head into a wall in frustration.

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Having picked up the engagement rings, it now rested on me to successfully get one on Radio’s finger without losing it in the intervening couple of days.

My plan was to drive to Radio’s, head to our favourite restaurant, then visit Stratford, where I remembered seeing ducks on the river.

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To cut to the chase, Radio and I got engaged this past Valentine’s Day

I decided that I was going to propose in early January. Radio has not been shy of the subject recently, hanging from my neck in a swimming pool in Szombathely and saying “See, they got married Babel, so why can’t we?” and writing that her ideal station in life now would be to be married.

I drove up to her parents’ house one January morning and decided that I would propose that we find out each other’s ring sizes “just in case I ever do decide to propose to you one day.”

Armed with that information, I decided to start the hunt for rings, so that I could pop the question on Valentine’s Day, at that point about four weeks away.

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I was perusing eBay earlier whilst killing some time. My plan was to pick up a couple of small Transformers, since my nephew, all of twenty months old, loved playing with my cuddly plush of Bumblebee, which even transforms into a Volkswagen Beetle.

He enjoyed playing with his new buddy so much that I went as far as getting some friends down, this time my keyrings of Windcharger and Brawn.

So far, so good, since I’ve found a bulk lot of minibots going for a pound, so I’ll be sure to keep my eyes open there.

I used the broad search term decepticon and quickly descended on the most unusual gift, though one that is perfect for someone who meets my characteristics of being in a settled relationship that could get a little bit more serious over the next few years … (more…)

I love old maps, and the sense of history, of knowledge still left to uncover, that they contain within them.  I adore sitting there thinking “You got this right, but you shouldn’t have connected Australia to China.”

I notice that in this blog entry I wrote:

69. DO YOU LIKE MAPS?
Sure, especially ones from centuries ago. I’d love to have one on a wall.

I’m happy to say that I now have one to put on the wall.  Or, more specifically, twelve.

When Radio and I were scouring bookshops in Birmingham as penance for losing her bet about the non-existence of the word onimous we visited Borders, and paid a quick visit to their bargain boxes.

I didn’t find any books that particularly interested me, but I did spot something that was most unexpected:

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For some reason I have the date remembered as the 22nd and have to constantly try not to look caught out when Radio reminds me “It’s our x-month anniversary today!” if I happen to be be with her on the 21st.

Well I didn’t forget today, the occasion of our second anniversary.  I even bought Radio some anniversary presents well in advance and presented them to her on Saturday.  Of course, I neglected to think of getting her a card to open to mark the day, but I think she ought to be used to me and her consequent reduced expectations by now

As if by pure coincidence I walked into my office today to see a photo of the two of us stuck to my monitor.  It turns out that a recently retired carer had taken some photos at a wedding reception and went out of her way to drop me off a copy.  I had every intention of scanning it and posting it, but failed miserably because the jabroni scanner is broken.

I’m not really one for soppy statements or any of the lovey-dovey nonsense, and I won’t change my spots here either, so I’ll just finish by saying that I feel very fortunate to have chanced upon someone as sweet and kind as The Radio, and am very humbled that she has offered so much to me over the course of our relationship.

She’s a nosey bugger, so I know that she’ll read this within seconds of me posting it.  I love you very much; let’s get on with getting a house, you soppy git

1) Maths is a fantastic subject.  You ought to learn it.

I was never particularly good at maths.  I still recall never being able to get my head around adding (or was it multiplying?) fractions, and having to go up to Mrs Moody to have her explain it to me.  This was a particularly unusual circumstance for ten- or eleven-year-old me, since I *never* asked for help with anything to do with schoolwork.

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