Sunday 4 February 2007

I am very happy to see that the weather is getting more spring-like, with lovely warm sunshine. I have had a couple of really nice walks this weekend, with much pheasant chasing. Delightful. On Friday, it was even warm engough for me to take my first swim of the season. The water was rather chilled, but nothing to distress Little Jasper beyond recovery. The footpath beside the river has been closed all winter for repairs to an old building along the route and has recently re-opened, so it was a pleasure for me to inspect my old regular route with Maisie and re-establish my territorial superiority on all the traditional pee-posts. Of course, this resumption of exercise along the preferred pathway will bring me back into contact with my most deadly adversary - I have not mentioned him in this blog before, for fear of traumatising the innocent, but I grow sensible of the fact that a chronicle of my life would be incomplete without the appearance of this unsavoury character... sigh... but not today.

Barking of unsavoury characters, now that the weather has warmed up a little, the New Cat deigned to put in an outside appearance on Friday. I nearly got him as I walked past with Maisie, but he jumped onto a wall where I couldn't reach him. I began to give him the benefit of my views on his pathetic weediness, but he was too ignorant to recognise the gifts to be gained from listening to a skilled orator and disappeared before I had finished my first sentence. He won't escape from me again.

There was a minor culinary mishap in my house this morning, resulting in some rather unusual behaviour from my partner. As she was rooting about in her food cupboard for something, she inadvertently knocked an open, large, packet of spaghetti and the long sticks of pasta cascaded liberally over the kitchen floor. She had to pick them all up herself; I would not assist - I know from bitter experience that consuming vast quantities of uncooked dried pasta is not a wise course of action to take. This little accident caused my partner, much to my infinite concern, to impersonate some kind of farmyard hen. "Cluck." she said. "Cluck" was repeated several times, the volume increasing with each repetition, as she knelt and picked up each strand of spaghetti. What could this mean? Will she start laying eggs? I hope so - I do enjoya nice boiled egg for my breakfast.

Keep your passport handy, it's time for the penultimate stage in my travels. Around the World with Jasper - Part 11 is here.



Good night.