Friday, 5 August 2011

Strange Friday


After I left the dole office today I wandered through the sun drenched streets watching the half naked women and found a park bench on which I could sit and gaze at the clouds above. As you know since coming here I have become fascinated by these clouds and today was no different.  Huge puffy clouds rolled slowly along, reaching thousands of feet into the air one minute and the next stretching for several miles in length, amazing to watch. Higher still were other clouds streaking the sky and while thin stretched for ever casting a thin veil over the blue above. The shade as a large, somewhat mucky, cloud moved in between the sun and the ground led to a drop in temperature that some regard as 'fresh!  I have my own word for this!  Truly I was made to slumber in a Mediterranean white walled town, not Essex! A strange day, my mind still suffers a kind of dreich emptiness, not helped by the lass in the dole yesterday and having to go there again today (another new idea from Ian Duncan Smith for me to try now) but at least the fellow was a good man, like most there are. In spite of sleeping, eating and faffing around I still retain a mind as sharp and active as a member of the 'Tea Party. Now that is sad.

 Had I not been a human being (who sniggered?) I might have had a good time as a cat. What can be better than to be an independent creature, capable of living of the land and indeed everybody else, finding a home to go to anywhere in the world, and yet be mastered by none? Dumb people, usually men, find themselves a big dog and take it for walks in a vain attempt to fool the world into thinking they are strong.  In fact they are as dumb as the dog which considers chasing a stick to be entertaining.  Mind you in comparison to Saturday night television.....
Cats on the other hand live with you, if you behave, if you are a failure they leave and find a better home elsewhere. The dog, like the man, sits there awaiting instruction. (That is why wives were invented) This cat pictured appears to find the company of a posse of horses, in spite of the smell that filled the field that morning, quite appealing. There is nothing to bother the cat, nothing to eat (farmer Jones breakfast probably went down this cats throat about six O' clock that morning, and now he sits dominating the world while the horses live of grass!  I suspect that soon after this he retired for a snooze (male cats require about fourteen hours a day) and then ate someone's lunch! That's the life for me, and no stick chasing either!



FishHawk said...

Please watch for lightning bolts. For I am about to agree with you, in that I think you would have made a great alley-cat. In fact, I would be hard-pressed to testify in court that you aren't one, as is.

Adullamite said...