Category Archives: Family


What’s that? Light at the end of the tunnel? So it is. I am done with cleaning! I need to dispose of the last things, but the main work is over and done with. Yay, go me!

… And now Dad wants to look over the storage-room again and see what we can throw away. In truth, there is no light at the end of the tunnel, just more tunnel.


SPN 6×05-6×07

The road so far. Well, Dad is watching along with me. I think. He’s not watching it as intently as I am, because it’s not his kind of show, but he will eventually come and join me. I have no idea what he thinks about the whole thing.  Continue reading SPN 6×05-6×07


Ik ben een paar weken geleden naar de huisarts geweest, in verband met mijn rug. Toen ik er toch zat, heb ik maar gevraagd naar een cholesterol-onderzoek. Het zit in de familie, aan de Ouwehanden-kant.

Vandaag heb ik de uitslag gekregen. 4,7! Dat is heel goed. Tot aan 5 is het uitstekend. Alles daarboven schuif je richting dieet en medicijnen.

Ahhh, Christmas-loot…

Even late, is some of the best loot. My in-laws gave me tea. And a TARDIS. I love my in-laws.

Bee gave me Sherlock Season 2. *glee* There’s something about having people in your life who know you.


Today we went into London, stopping off at Forbidden Planet. I got some comics (Justice League International, Birds of Prey, Batgirl, and Blue Beetle, all post-Reboot.) Also, since I have no shame and I am a big fan, a figurine of Booster Gold. I is very happy.


Our female straggler has resurfaced. I don’t know where she’s been the past week, but I was rather happy to see her again yesterday.

Now I just worry about Spok. Dad’s suggested maybe he’s gone home, his owners went on holiday, and he’s being taken care of. I hope so.

I worry too much about cats who aren’t mine. Ours’ll get really jealous one of these days. Tigger has really taken to attacking the intruders. Trying to scratch their eyes out through a window-pane, that kind of thing.

Oh, bugger!

Having cleaned the bathroom, Dad went out into the garden to hang out the towels. Tigger followed, and managed to get outside as well. Dad went inside for a moment, then back out, then back into the living-room.

“Have you seen Tigger?” he asks.

“No,” I say. “He was so busy clamouring to get into the garden, he wouldn’t suddenly come back inside and go upstairs.” I checked anyway, to be sure. Dinah was there, yes. No Tigger.

We trundle back outside. Tigger’s not in the garden. There’s a hole in the fence at the back, and Tigger’s been pawing at it for a while now. I have a horrible feeling as I sink down onto one knee in front of the hole, sticking my arm through it and making enticing tut-sounds. Sure enough, I hear meowing, and then I see a fuzzy, red-white cat.

BLEEDING TIGGER HAS GONE THROUGH THE HOLE INTO ANOTHER GARDEN. And refuses to come close enough for me to grab him. Dad tries to lure him closer, while I go over to the other street, and ring the bell of the house whose garden it is. Turns out to be the wrong house, and the right house has no one home. *sighs*

I go back, feed our stragglers*, and see if Dad’s succeeded. No.

But what’s that? It’s Binky**! One of Tigger’s mortal enemies, Binky’s a big red outdoors-cat. And now they’re eye-to-eye again, without a screen-door between them. Lots of hissing, as both Dad and Binky’s owner try to get their respective cats back. Dad eventually pulls out his ladder, since Tigger’s jumped up onto the roof. Binky goes home.
Dad tries to get Tigger closer by using his favourite cat-treats. They still don’t manage to overcome the lure of being outside, unfettered and free! Tigger does come close enough that Dad can grab him by the scruff of the neck, and get him back inside. Tigger wasn’t happy, but we don’t care. He’s almost 13, and has been an indoors-cat all of his life. We’re not giving him the opportunity to adapt to an outdoors-life.

* You start by petting the cat that follows you home. Then, he gets a bit to eat, a handful of kibble, that kind of thing. Before you know it, you get ambushed by Spok, for that’s his name, as you go outside. Or he’ll jump into the window-sill, and wait for you to come outside with food. Then, he brings along a friend/sister….
Spok has a home. He has a collar and everything. He just doesn’t go back there very often, near as we can tell.
Whether the other cat’s his sister, we’re not sure. She looks like him, and he knows her. He lets her push him away from his food.

** No, really. That is his name.

Don’t worry, be happy

So, I found out the day after I’d arrived in England about the volcano on Iceland, and the subsequent closing of airspace. Ok, fine, we’ll see how things go, though even at that time you heard the stories about people being stranded who wouldn’t be able to get a flight back until May.

Bee and I tried not to worry about it too much. I was making up a list of people I’d have to contact in case I wouldn’t be able to get back (work, pastor, parents, not necessarily in that order).

And then British airspace got released on Tuesday, easyJet was flying, and I caught my flight on Wednesday. It was only an hour late, some delay caused in Naples.

On the one hand, I am glad everything worked out in the end. On the other hand, staying with Bee longer would have been nice as well.