Gracie sniff stick ,
That’s exactly what she did. We used to have a cat toy tied to the stick but she pulled that off. The stick has been sitting there, patiently, minding it’s own business. So of course I decided to tease Gracie. She immediately Sniffed it and batted it with her paws. Then she started chewing the tip so I moved it away. As soon as it was still again she ignored it…. So I wrote this poem just for fun.
The trees by the lake cry wooden tears,
The sky glints grey and gold.
Silver shimmers, water waves,
Cold walk in sunset glow.
Hiding under the tree, determined to shake the baubles free. Trying to use the plastic wrapped metal trunk as a scratching post.
Every so often she sneaks underneath, now the presents have gone, then stands up on her back legs – her front paws in the air, battling a glinting decoration, rattling the tinsel. A couple of times the tree has rocked and shaken like a fir in a tornado, almost, but not quite, uprooted from its three pronged stand.
Then out she shoots, scampers after a toy, a feather, a ball. The tree is forgotten till next time – then used as a hiding place, scratching post, and climbing frame in turn when she feels like it.
Twelth night will see the tree demolished and returned to its cardboard box home. What will cat do then?
We got here today and have been busy sitting around for a lot of the time, interspersed with standing around on the stage being set in position, then singing as loudly and brightly as we can for our songs. I’m shattered, I hope I can keep my energy up for the performance.
To be honest I’m actually enjoying being fitted for a costume (a tee shirt). I brought my own silly blingy jewellery to wear. I’ve actually got some stuff from the 1990s which I was given one Christmas.
The play is called Beautiful Thing at the New Vic theatre at Basford, Newcastle-under-Lyme. Performances run till Saturday and start at 7.30pm.
The play is about the blossoming relationship between two teenage boys. It is set in 1993 and we are singing music by Mama Cass and hits from the 1990s. I hope I don’t break my leg
This little I inch square sketch is me trying too quickly draw three of the people at a rehearsal.
I just came in after 4ish hours rehearsing with two Choirs I am in, Clay Chorus and some of Loud Mouth women. We are accompanying a play that is on this week at the New Victoria theatre in Basford, Stoke-on-Trent.. Its called Bright Thing and is the 25th anniversary of its first performance, so no pressure x.
A poem of spellchecker words…….
I tried the same way but
Sent from my old phone.
I enjoy the rest of the day,
Pearly white hair on the sofa,
Sent from my black bag,
Cause a bit of a victorian painting
Sent from my old address ,
So sharp and fine with the barn dance
I’m a little bit worried about the snow.
Its a bit like an expensive weekend.
Sent from my old version of my head.
I’ve been going to Archery now for about 6 months off and on. I thought I would be getting better but struggle with the whole thing somehow.
While my partner shoots bare bow (without sights) and has gradually improved, I feel I’m actually becoming less accurate. He got eight golds last week where I just got 2, and this week I kept missing the boss (the support the paper target is pinned to).
It looks easy, lift up your bow, pull back on the bowstring, look through the sight and let your arrow fly. Watch it wobble in its flight towards, then over, under, to the side of the target…missed again! I try and place myself in the same position each time, holding the bow not too tightly, trying not to pinch my fingers around the knock end of the arrow so it releases from the string smoothly. Place my hand holding the string under my chin with my nose and mouth touching the string. Sight along the arrow using a sight that has a hole with a little dot in it so that it is sighted over the gold. But a tiny deviation where you are is large when you have a target 20 yards away and worse as you get futher away from it.
I’m going to keep trying, I hope I can do it, I will persevere.