St Renaud
I always feel so awful when I take the cats to their holiday home. Today I felt worse as they were so good in the car (they are usually very noisy giving me a 'musical' accompaniment all the way there).
And to see their little faces looking out of the run.
Misty looks at Figaro and shrugs
Figgy says 'Dammit, what have we done this time?'
'I really don't know' Misty replies, 'but it was obviously bad enough to warrant another spell in the slammer'.
They are probably already making plans for their escape - will it be the tunnel or will they disguise themselves as a couple of German Shepherds and sneak out under cover of darkness?
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Meanwhile, it's the early train for us tomorrow to Paris meaning we have to get up before daylight (do people really do that?). Friday a flight to Birmingham and on to Shropshire for our daughter's wedding on Saturday. The big hat and the suits are packed safely. We have French embellishments for the bridal car and have double, nay triple checked; passports? Tickets? English money? Have we packed the father of the bride's speech (it's a cracker!)?
So, no more blogging until Wednesday next (sorry, Jim).
See you then!
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2 comments:
To my poor parents having to make the arduous trip over to 'Brownland': Get here safely.
To all the UK-based peeps: See you Saturday!!
The Bride
Have fun! Poor cats ... we never dare to uproot our cat from his home for fear of reprisals. He stays here when we go away, but luckily we have very obliging neighbours :-)
Typed sitting on a hard kitchen chair because le Roi Minou has chosen to sleep on my office chair today ...
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