Black Cab and Beautiful Frock

Must remember to book a cab from Waterloo Cars tomorrow to get home in. Today I spent ages trying to get a black cab, had to cross the road, and finally managed to stop a cab who refused to take me because he would have to turn around! Crossed back again, feeling hot, cross and a bit tearful, when a woman came up to me and asked me where I had bought my dress - 'they are such beautiful colours that I just had to come and ask'. I admitted that it had come from a very cheap catalogue, but this encounter cheered me up a bit. Just then a cab turned up, further restoring my faith in human nature.

Back from Barcelona and Wardrobe Sleeping

Julian arrived back laden with gifts for Kooky and me. I had some medication I can't get here and lots of tins of very good quality Spanish fish, and Kooky had a couple of cat harnesses, and a toy on a stick. So far he has been reluctant to try the cat harnesses, but has enjoyed the toy on a stick, which is long and fluffy with feathers at the end.

Kooky has taken to sitting in the window quite a lot, and loves to sunbathe in the open bathroom window, looking out at other cats, birds, flies, etc. in the garden. It is a long drop from there, so fortunately he hasn't so far tried to jump out. He has also been out for a couple of walks in the garden and is becoming slightly bolder, but often just sits on the doorstep looking out if the kitchen door is open. I tend to let him out just before a mealtime so that I can lure him in again. He has also made another 'bed' in the wardrobe in the studio. I panicked because I thought he had somehow escaped this morning as he was nowhere to be found, until I saw his head appear from the wardrobe where he had probably slept for the night. Seems that Dorothy is going to be writing speeches and attending a conference and will be available from Wednesday evening.

Coffee Bars and Milk Bars

I was musing idly about the past, which reminded me of coffee bars in the late fifties, which I used to frequent. They were everywhere - in London I would go to the 'Two I's and the 'Heaven and Hell'. Cappuccino and espresso coffee was sold, and always served in glass cups and saucers, for some reason. An earlier phenomenon had been Milk Bars. My great-aunt had 'The Green Door' in Ilfracombe, named after a pop song of the day, and there was apparently one in Notting Hill Gate called 'The Moo-Cow'. I can't remember the name of the one in Combe Martin, where I used to hang out when even younger. They specialised in ice creams, including huge sundaes, and milk shakes, and ice cream sodas, which were basically cream soda or lemonade with a ball of ice cream in it, and sometimes a dash of fruit flavouring. Teenagers and young children used to meet in these places, often sharing a milk shake with several straws.

Although they did not serve alcohol, coffee bars were seen as a young adult option, since they were inevitably furnished with juke boxes, another novelty of the time. They were seen as much cooler than pubs, and may have had a part in the mod movement later, with its Italian suits and motor scooters, all things Italian being in favour, even the wall murals with Swiss mountain scenes often encountered in these places.

Another Priest

This one has a cauliflower ear and a giraffe's neck. May adjust all this later!

Oh, and the nose is too long.

Back Again

As you will see from Kooky's posts, he is an inveterate liar. I will not dignify any of his accusations by refuting them. The only slightly true statements are that the house is a bit grubby, and I cannot sit on the floor and get up again easily.

Last night was another SE1 dinner. We started with a lovely smoked mackerel pate, followed by salmon en papillotes with ginger and onion seasoning, and side salads. Very good pudding of cheesecake with a bowl of strawberries to accompany this. The wines were all very good and the company excellent. I left at about 12.30, so had a comparatively early night.

Kooky had a wander outside early this morning and had to be lured back for his breakfast. I will let him out again this evening before his supper. He is less keen on being groomed than before, but obviously needs frequent serious brushing. He consumed some drugs last night, and the addiction is obvious - he immediately purrs and becomes much more friendly for a short while.

It's Me Again: Kooky

I should be fair and mention the young visiting slave - though she's not been around for a week or two - can't stand the filth, I expect.

I am hoping she will come back. She did buy me some cat grass, which was a kind thought, and a very pleasant pheasant feather, and has spent some time playing with me, which was fun. I don't wish to express excessive emotion over this young slave, but at least I feel she is making an effort to accommodate my rather modest wishes, so I must express some form of approval, or she might start ignoring my wishes, like the very tedious old slave. I cannot allow this to happen.

I shall impatiently await her return.

The Service Here is Absolutely Appalling

I, Kooky Wookiee Harding, have taken over this blog to complain bitterly about this place and the resident cat slave. I used to have a young, pretty slave, who would play with me on the floor for hours on end (even if she was stupid enough to try and stuff me into a dress for a photograph - she bears the scar still). This one is very old and fat, can't sit on the floor, and can't move around fast, obviously. I have observed her constantly eating, when she remains in the house, like Jabba the Hutt, watching TV, without a single thought to my welfare.

As soon as I arrived in this dump I decided to hide under the sofa in her studio. She was stupid enough to leave my tray in the studio, so I rewarded her with a large pile of poo on the kitchen floor on the first day. That seemed to teach her to put my tray there, where it was required. She still hasn't found a suitable cat food, though she seems to have realised after a week or two that I am not keen on fish.

The place is an absolute tip - despite having a cleaner, the level of hygiene is atrocious - NOT what I am accustomed to.

She gave a wild party last Saturday - slaves rushing around the flat, supposedly having a 'dinner party' - more like a slave rave until 4.30am when they disturbed the neighbours as well as me when they went home.

She lost my drugs, my catnip drops, on which I am heavily dependant, so I have been suffering withdrawal symptoms. Apparently she managed to find them today.

I spend many hours sitting in her window, hoping my previous owners will realise the folly of their ways and come and collect me, meanwhile I will have to teach this particularly stupid old female slave how to behave, if she wants me to hang around her disgusting dwelling.

Rant over.