Skip to main content

Beloved old friend

I am going to indulgence myself a little here.  Last weekend I lost a beloved old friend.  My cat, Pippi.  She was almost 17 years old, but her eyes were still big and bright, her fur still glossy, and her devotion to me undiminished, but her poor little furry body was wracked with an aggressive tumour which eventually prevented her from swallowing.  We parted last Sunday.  

She came to us as a rescue kitten, but at a time when I was feeling rather low, and from the first moment I saw those big round eyes peeping out from inside my daughter's jacket, we loved each other, and she rescued me!  She had a beautiful coat, with stripy legs, velvet paws, and I had her name in a twinkle - Pippi - after Pippi Longstocking!  I would miss her when I was out at work all day, wondering what she was getting up to as a kitten, home alone!  She would sneak down under the duvet with me and curl up in the crook of my knees, purring all the while, and sleep in the warmth of the bedclothes.  As a young cat she loved to play fetch in the hallway, when I whizzed a pasta shell along the floor.  She would run after it and bring it back to me, to slide again!  She befriended the dogs, rubbing her head under their chins as she passed by.  Every time I sat down, she would jump on my lap, right up until last Sunday morning.  I really miss her, and here's why.

My gorgeous girl


  1. She’s a beauty and what a lovely friend she made. I’m sure she loved every minute of being with you too. X


Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Coastal walk from Gullane to North Berwick

By the time I have walked about four miles, my toes are screaming at me - it's the arthritis, you see.  One of the joys of being that little bit older than I was.  However, for a long time, I have been keen to walk along the beaches, and follow the coastal path, between Gullane and North Berwick. So, having worked out the tide times, I decided today was the day, and off we went.
Below is our starting point, the bay at Gullane.  It's a lovely beach, very popular with dog walkers. This is looking east, the direction Tilly and I were going to take.
Looking back, up the Forth, the unmistakable bulk of Arthur's Seat, and Edinburgh's skyline, just clear enough to see.
For most of the walk, there is the choice between wandering along a series of beaches, or following a path along the top of each.
There's no denying it, at heart I am a shell-seeker.  I have loads of shells at home.  We lived on one of the out islands in the Bahamas for a just over a year, a long time ago, and …

A vase on Bonfire Night Monday

I have another vase of wild flowers this week.  It wasn't my intention, but as I was out walking the dogs on Sunday afternoon I passed billowing masses of a delicate pink cruciferae (which I can't find a specific name for) growing next to a pile of logs.
Growing alongside were two or three plants of golden yellow corn sow-thistle.  It was a beautiful sight, and there was my vase!  The cruciferae, which has a flower just like rocket, also has the most fabulous seed pod.  It is positively exotic and reminds me of Aladdin's shoes, with very long pointy toes. The lovely sunny face in the photo below is a good old dandelion.  I love dandelions.  I love their rich yellow flowers and the complex and beautiful seed head.  Who hasn't blown a dandelion dock to find out what time it is?  And you can eat the leaves in a salad!

Long gone garden

Ihad about 23,000 photos on iPhoto, which, not surprisingly, has been slowing my MacBook down!  Over the past weeks, I have been having a massive cull and in the process siphoned off favourite photographs, and also I have been on a trip down memory lane.  There is one group of photos I am compelled to post here because for me they form a glorious record of my long gone and much lamented garden, at our previous house.  I have a tiny garden now, which I am enjoying, but in our last garden there was room for lots of joy.   

Regrettably, where there were tulips and fritillaries in the long grass, there is now hardstanding for cars, and I heard yesterday that my beloved lavender hedge has now been taken out, which is the final nail in the coffin of a place bees once loved to visit.  I am not sure that a static row of box balls is going to quite cut it with the pollinators.  I used to count up to one hundred bees, of various types, along the spires of lavender when it was in bloom.