I enjoy my kibble but really do enjoy the occasional treat. It is far too lowering to actually beg for titbits from the servants’ plates overtly but after a few years of practice I have perfected the art of the ‘silent meow’. It is a look laden with appeal guaranteed to melt the heart of its intended target. Tonight’s result was omelette and very nice it was to with a dusting of parmesan, a little heavy on the seasoning for my liking but all the same; a pleasant break from dried kibble.
The Bournemouth Air Show started today for four days and don’t I know it! In a normal day there are just a few aircraft over our house going in and out of Bournemouth. Today, every time I settled down a loud airplane would go over. Not the usual commercial aircraft but things thundering by. I just couldn’t be bothered to get up and look out of the window to see if it was a Lancaster, Spitfire or DC3. The servants apparently were lucky enough to see a Lancaster flying low on their way home tonight.
The man servant left yesterday’s copy of the International New York Times lying around where I tend to lie around. One headline declares “2 sides sign an ‘unlimited cease-fire in Gaza conflict’. The article is accompanied by a very dark picture of a masked Palestinian soldier holding an AK47 in one hand and a flag in the other. At least the people in Gaza won’t be having planes flying overhead for as long as the cease-fire holds.
Thankfully the ones from the air show were friendly.
I see also on the front page that the UN and the World Health Organisation have waded into the debate about e-cigarettes. I know neither of my servants smoke and I did hear the man talk about his smoking experiences from years ago. His first attempt was with one of his Granddad’s Hamlet cigars. You remember the slogan ‘Happiness is a Hamlet cigar’. He took it with some matches down to the bottom of the garden, lit up, inhaled with great vigour and spent the next fifteen minutes heaving his lungs. The experience was far from happy. His next attempt was at college gigs in the 1970’s. There were drugs around then but an even stronger narcotic was the French cigarette….a Gaulloise or some such name. By this time he had worked out not to inhale so enthusiastically, especially in front of his mates. No coughing fits but slight dizzy spells and couldn’t taste any food for a few days. He gave up. This has saved him from two dangers. One, contracting some really nasty smoking related disease. And two, not getting run over crossing a road to buy some cigarettes. I think the risks are about equal.