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Ballet and tap.

Bebe2

Bebe 1

Guernsey, CI, circa 1978. It’s a poodle. Yes, it is, no, it’s not a mouse wearing a bear suit on his way to a fancy dress party it really is a poodle puppy. Called Bébé. And what a character she was. A right handful of incorrigible brown curls. Bless you, Bébé. However, should you prefer your canines the size of a small vehicle I aim to please. Simply hop over to my counterpart at http://enigmawolfblack.wordpress.com/
and meet Rex.

It could be my ten years studying classical ballet that… sorry? Oh yes, just call me Rosie Fonteyn why don’t you, anyway, it could be my ballet training that is so installed in me that my posture is such that I stand as straight as a ramrod. Or, at least that used to be the case. Nowadays thanks to my decrepit well-being in general it’s more like a ram’s horn. No, I exaggerate. But my shoulder blades do tend to stick out a tad if I don’t make a concerted effort to stand up super straight and pull my shoulders back.

And there’s the thing.

When you stand as such it automatically makes your chest stick out and considering my cheekbones are the sum total of anything of mine that comes in pairs that can actually be considered prominent, you could be forgiven for thinking this is a beneficial move. Quite possibly but it feels silly but then I’d rather feel it then look it. I mean, who wants chicken wings on their back. I’ve done the yellow canary hair and that’s as far as I care to go in my emulation of anything ornithological as much as I adore them and animals in general.

Except snakes.

And to end on a familiar note. You are now acquainted with the electronic singing choir in the Rosie household? Well, to add to this list I now have a tapping telephone. Yes, my telephone taps, although, it could be described as a tick. Tap… tap… tap or tick as I can’t quite make up my mind, and then a pause, and just as I’m beginning to relax, another tap. What next – a whistling kettle that doesn’t?

Best to you. Tap, groan, chirp, miaow! That was the cat. And quite an acceptable response too when a hasty ex-husband treads on her tail.

Rosie
x

Working website:
http://www.rosemarybachholzer.co.uk

Sally and the Sign People by Rosemary Bach-Holzer

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Posted by on January 13, 2014 in Uncategorized

 

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Spanish athletes are feline

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Mum’s poodle, Meg, Guernsey, circa late 80s. On her return from the poodle parlour. That’s the dog, not Mum. Yes… do you reckon the stylist was having a bad day or something because I never knew they gave short back and sides to dogs.

Yesterday I couldn’t make up my mind if I was feeling hot or cold. The heating was being turned on and off so many times it looked like I was attempting a Morse code message with my Calor gas flame. Ah, well, at least I’m not on the receiving end of any birds knocking at the window which is always a good sign although the other day there were a couple of chaffinches flitting about in the naked tree pecking away on something only visible to birdy beady eyes.

Tina, the cat, spied them and instantly began a one-way monologue.

Tina is a little strange which has nothing to do with the fact she’s from Spain. I’m sure of it. Like all good Spanish she’s a superb athlete and loves playing with her squeaky mice, catnip mice and my supply of Labellos. She lobs the flying toy back and forth with such skill you could be forgiven for thinking you are in the middle of a tennis match. Or she’ll jump with both arms raised to intercept the flying offender in a move that any goalie would be proud to emulate.

The weirdness comes into play when she attempts to scale my back like Edmund Hillary.

As I’m sitting upright at the time I can only surmise she’s stuck flypaper to the soles of her feet in her hope to scale the summit and plant a Spanish flag on the top of my head. Well, it would make a change from a tin of organic tomatoes flavoured with basil.

I think I’m a little weird so the cat is in good company so to speak.

She’s a rescue cat from Spain hence the flag of her country. I trawled through all available cat rescue shelters to find her as company for my ex-husband. So he wouldn’t miss something weird and catty muttering about the place when I’ve returned to the UK. And that’s weird in itself, I mean, who stays with their ex-spouse? Does any of this ring a bell with anyone out there or is it just me?

Talking of which… all right! Bear with, bear with! Let me get my little plug in. “Cat Tales” is continuing to do well on Nook. Three excellent reviews. Well, two and one with five stars but no comment. Probably lost for words. Thank you kind readers for your input whomever you are.

Well, back to it.

Happy New Year to one and all, and just a thought, say hello to that old person down the road who lives all alone. Maybe even offer to help with something or pop in for a cup of tea. One day, that could be you. Or me. Oh, nice! What an inspiring note on which to finish. Can’t do it. Think on. One is never truly alone when one is in the company of good music, good books, and a good dog (or cat)!

Best, best,
Rosie x

Additional blog:
http://enigmawolfblack.wordpress.com/

Working website:
http://www.rosemarybachholzer.co.uk

Cat Tales by Rosemary Bach-Holzer

 
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Posted by on January 6, 2014 in Uncategorized

 

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