On 21st November, we moved house from North Somerset to Kingston-upon-Hull, in East Yorkshire. This involved someone – me, in fact – drawing the short straw and driving the five cats 230 miles.

We put the older two in a cattery – I felt that if they were around while the removal was going on, they’d leg it.  I bought a big dog cage for the younger three, but in the event, they were quite happy, and had to be fished out of the lorry on a regular basis.  So when we were packed up, I looked for Henry, Ron and Lilith to enbox.

No Lilith.  She was, inevitably, in her second home, a house which backed on to ours.  I went round with a basket and knocked on the door, and the mother opened it.  ”Can I have my cat back, please?” I said.  ”We’re moving to Yorkshire and I need to take her with me”.

She was aghast – “my daughter loves that cat”.  I knew that, but Lilith is actually *our* cat.  ”Why not get her one of her own?”, I asked and was told that she worked irregular hours.  No idea what that has to do with it.

Then she asked me not to tell the daughter that we were taking Lilith away for good.  In my haste, and against my better judgement, I went along with it, but oh – how I wish I hadn’t.  When she asked why Lily was going in  a basket, I said we were going away for a few days, to friends, and that they wanted Lily to come with us.  I can’t begin to imagine how that girl must feel now, and I feel I betrayed her.

Anyway, EnRon went in a box together and were as good as gold.  Lilith went in the small box, and I went off to the cattery (which was in the wrong direction)  to collect the spotty boys. I couldn’t get anybody to answer the phone, or the doorbell, and stood in the rain for 25 minutes in an increasing panic until the woman who was looking after the place for her son finally realised there was someone there when she looked through the window …

She yattered and yattered, gave me a bill for the wrong amount, and I just wanted to get the boys, and get going, as I had a 4.5 hour journey ahead of me.  Eventually I got them in their separate boxes, and into the car, with Lily between them, and off I went.

It was a *vile* day – sideways rain, and really dark, and Iggy and Mustrum shouted – screamed, at times – the entire way.  I’m sorry to say that Iggy was so distressed that he disgraced himself in his basket, and so I had a Smell to content with too. We let them have the run of the house and yard as soon as we arrived, and while they weren’t happy, they seemed to be settling.

And then, the next evening Sunday), Iggy disappeared.  We tried not to worry, but we did worry.  And as the days went by, we worried more.  I went out often calling him, but we now live in a part of the city which is a grid of Victorian terraced streets, and they all look the same.  I didn’t see how he could find his way home.  I phoned the Identichip people, and reported him as missing.

Since I arrived here, it’s been my habit to come downstairs early – about 6 a.m. – make a cup of tea, feed the cats, and catch up with some stuff on my laptop.  And on the Thursday morning, as I was making the early tea, there was a rowl from the living room, and Iggy strolled into the kitchen.  He wasn’t thin, he wasn’t hungry, he wasn’t stressed, but he was home.  I can only assume that he’d gone to check out the neighbourhood.

He came in through a cat flap that wasn’t even fitted when he left – what a clever cat.

We now have five stay at homes, which suits me fine, but my word – what a lot they’re eating.  I knew they dined out and about, but we’re getting through more than twice the amount of food we used to!

Mirrored from the Tribe.

Apologies for the lack of posts – we moved from North Somerset to Kingston-upon-Hull on 21st November, and life has been chaotic ever since!  I’ve had time to cook, but not time to write it up.

We brought some stuff with us from the freezer, and our coolbag was so effective I could actually put the huge lumps of beef back in.  I was left with:

• a piece of belly pork and eight chorizo sausages – I bought some chicken thighs from the local butcher, and made what we call, inaccurately, a gumbo – the pork, chicken and half the chorizo, with some cider (as that was all I could lay my hands on) – three tubs for the freezer
• to make a point, I bought a bunch of coriander from the Indian grocer 5 minutes up the road the day we moved in (he said that if you could buy coriander on a weekend without getting the car out, you were in a civilised area – we are).  So then I had to go out and get more chicken thighs, and made a batch of coriander chicken
• we brought four faggots with us – they were cooked with carrots, courgettes, mustard, onions,mushrooms and cider (again!) and put in the freezer.  We ate two of them for supper on Friday and very nice they were too
• I took a hunk of silverside out of the freezer yesterday, and it’s now in the slow cooker, in a stock made of a rogue bottle of ginger beer, teriyaki, grain mustard, crushed allspice and peppercorns and a splash of red wine vinegar.

Hopefully a more regular service will be restored soon – I’ll be writing a post shortly about food shopping here in East Yorkshire; excellent quality and prices at least 20% less than Bristol.

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Mirrored from Reactive Cooking.

Two slices of potato, with fish sandwiched inbetween and then battered. What's it called?

Okay, what do you call fish mashed up with potato and covered in breadcrumbs?

What kind of fish do they sell in your local fish and chip shops?

How do you pronounce the consonant in the middle of the word "Asia", when speaking English?

06:50 Body woke me at the time to get up for work. Now can't get back to sleep and I WANT to sleep in.

06:52 "...the beauty of living things are not the atoms that go into it, but the way they are put together..." Sagan /via @pseudojoe.

matgb

matgb

• Chapter XI, which is mostly about Aurelian
  
  
  A chapter full of thrilling incident. The catastrophic Gallienus is replaced by Claudius II, and he in turn very quickly by Aurelian, who conducts a series of successful military campaigns - against the Goths, reconquering Gaul and then also defeating the fascinating Zenobia of Palmyra - before being in turn assassinated.
  
  
  (tags: gibbon)
  
  

• 10:40 Good grief. The trains are just completly FUBARed. #
• 11:07 Come the revolution the trains will be near the top of my to fix list. #
• 15:35 @jamesjimbob I wouldn't be a facist unlike Mussolini. I might start with apolgetc sounding announcements rather than a mumble. #

• The living room alcoves have been painted, as has under the window - just as well, as the plumber came to move the radiator yesterday, rather earlier than we expected! Will continue with painting tomorrow, as
• We have realised that the only sensible place for the TV is on the chimney breast above the (currently non-existent) fireplace*, occasioning me to ..
• Go off into Hull shopping this morning, all on my own. Managed to find the car park, navigate to the stores I wanted, and get home again without needing GPS - Pete was amazed. Bought a throw for the tatty armchair that Gavin left, as it is actually quite comfortable, just hideous to look at, two new cushions, and a wall mount for the television. Oh, and some cat fud, and two steak pasties and 4 mince pies, for the princely sum of £2.09 (not including the cat fud). It's astonishing how much cat fud we are getting through - I knew the Tribe ate out a lot, but this is ridiculous!
• Entertainment stack of TV, amp, tivo, dvd player, Neuros and Roku is all assembled, although the Neuros is currently sulking and refusing to speak to the network. It was doing this that made us realise the wallmount issue, as there is nowhere sensible to put the speakers except either side of the chimney breast
• Another bookcase is up,and the book heap is down to 14 large boxes [scream]. Coffee table, and red leather Poang chair and footstool are assembled. Some ornaments are even out! - it's starting to look like home. The triangular shelves are up in the kitchen, permitting the unpacking of Pete's tea collection,
• I've just started 5 gallons of wine; would have been six, but Pete snapped an airlock. Hock, apricot, Merlot, Barolo and Rioja (all from kits - I'll do some winter wines soon though; parsnip, beetroot, that sort of thing).
• The Polish builder who quoted £200 to fit the loft ladder is still here, after starting at 8 yesterday, although he did go home last night. Horrible job, and my dears - the *dust*. So soon we shall be able to insulate it, and be much warmer. I hope.
• Actually went *out* and met some people on Thursday, of which more later.
• *Scored a fireplace and gas fire on eBay today for £26, so off to sunny Scunthorpe tomorrow to collect it.
• Have taken a hunk of silverside out of the freezer to slow cook tomorrow
• And off to Scarborough tonight to see Rob Brydon. Looking forward to that.