CogsBlog
Writings on gardens, life, dogs, writing books and poetry.
Friday 4 October 2024
lost words
Wednesday 4 September 2024
book worm
This week Billie has eaten my phone case and attempted to eat the phone. Perhaps she was calling home - she managed to take it out of the case and fortunately for her only cracked the screen so she ingested no phone numbers or bits of plastic.
Wednesday 7 August 2024
miss my dog ate my homework
Pocket is very pleased with himself as he announced he was returning to be an author and was going to write a story about a school for witches' cats called Mogwarts and he was changing his name to J.K.Pocket. I told him he'd be infringing on the Harry Potter franchise but he told me that was nonsense. He couldn't help it if he'd been named John Kenneth Pocket could he? Would be J.K.Prowling be more acceptable? I asked him who his audience was and asked if there was such a thing as Middle Grade Cats or Young Adult Cats but he ignored me. Works of Art are an infinite loneliness he tells me. Ah Rilke! I say. Never heard of him he replies. But I'm also working on a new book called the Tale of Two Cats it starts off with "it was the best of times, it was the worst of times." What are the worst of times?" I ask resisting the temptation to compare it to Dickens. You sitting infront of the News at 6 on TV and weeping. And the best of times? I ask. When you leave me to sleep without asking me stupid questions.
A beautiful young kingfisher who would not be doing that sort of thing arrived at the wildlife hospital this week along with yet another adorable hedgehog.
Below a Second flush of roses - there are so many roses in our garden now I can't remember the name of many of them but as Pocket would say a cat wouldn't bother with things like that, they don't have a desire to live a long life, to make it to Xmas or someone's birthday and certainly don't want to win the lottery or travel the world. They just want to be happy day by day not fret over the name of a rose.
Saturday 6 July 2024
the peanut tower
All feathered corvid friends have flown away now which is great - all as it should be though I do miss the little jackdaw that I fed from just a few days old. Considering that some of last year's jackdaws lined up on the fence this year waiting for food I'm surprised he hasn't returned for a top up. The fledgling season is over for another year and now I make do with watching all the birds who dine at my bird station. Below is a poem I wrote celebrating its existence.
Thursday 6 June 2024
billie the kid
She came from Scotland from the lovely Fran and Bill who originally gave us our much loved Pixie. We manifested her and lo there she was. When I told some people we were getting a baby wolfhound they rolled their eyes. You said you weren't going to get a puppy they said. Others understood like the vet who said she can't live without one. Some people just grinned and sighed. There were no wolfhounds to rescue I assured the doubters and she was meant.
She has settled in well and made friends though Rocket was not too pleased with her arrival. He tolerates her now but at the moment is acting a little like Noel Coward lounging on the sofa as if in a silk dressing gown , waving a cigarette holder and telling her he can't possibly play as he's composing something.
Pocket returned from the gates of dawn and fell asleep whilst trying to compose his thoughts on existential angst.
Thrice the brinded cat hath mew'd
Monday 6 May 2024
fox and hounds
I've seen a tiger in the wild, a humpback whale and her calf breach the surface tension of the ocean. I've seen kittens being born. I've seen shooting stars. I've seen trees fall. And all these moments will be lost in time like tears in rain.
In spite of what he said however he did go looking for another life.
When the poet and writer David Harmer suggested to me that Pocket might meet up with Skimbleshanks T.S.Eliot's railway cat I made the mistake of telling him and he did go missing for a few days. When he returned he was full of tales. He may not have seen attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion but he told me he'd seen the railway cat who was always busy in the luggage van, pacing, examining and supervising. He then met Rimbaud's cat drinking absinthe from a saucer in a bar.
What did he say? I asked. I is someone else. He said. All very existential.
He then found Wordsworth's cat wandering lonely as a cloud in the daffodil meadow and finally discovered Jane Austen's cat sitting in a bonnet telling him that life seems but a quick succession of busy nothings. Having met some literary cats he returned to the armchair content that there is no other life than his.
Nancy said she often wandered lonely as a cloud but had decided to go up for a casting for Cats the musical. Either that or she was going to make a Collection of Pretty Poems for the amusement of children six foot high.
Wednesday 3 April 2024
pocket's book club
And the other day my neighbour knocked at the door, looked down at Rocket who was wondering if to bark loudly at her and said "have you walked her?" I thought she knew Rocket was a boy but I still launched into a long explanation as to why I was waiting to walk when the other fifteen dogs that all live on the track had been taken out because Rocket would bark loudly at them and tug furiously at his lead and it was very tiring. She also looked at me curiously and repeated her question "Have you water?"
Two hedgehog sisters about to explore the wide world outside and hopefully make babies.
An amazing tulip that looks like a peony called Tulipa Dreamer.
For I will consider my cat Jeoffry by Christopher Smart.(1722-1771. Sometimes he was called Kit or Kitty by his friends.)
For I will consider my Cat Jeoffry.
For he is the servant of the Living God, duly and daily serving him.
For at the first glance of the glory of God in the East he worships in his way.
For is this done by wreathing his body seven times round with elegant quickness.
For then he leaps up to catch the musk, which is the blessing of God upon his prayer.
For he rolls upon prank to work it in.
For having done duty and received blessing he begins to consider himself.
For this he performs in ten degrees.
For first he looks upon his forepaws to see if they are clean.
For secondly he kicks up behind to clear away there.
For thirdly he works it upon stretch with the forepaws extended.
For fourthly he sharpens his paws by wood.
For fifthly he washes himself.
For sixthly he rolls upon wash.
For seventhly he fleas himself, that he may not be interrupted upon the beat.
For eighthly he rubs himself against a post.
For ninthly he looks up for his instructions.
For tenthly he goes in quest of food.