Author: Platypus Man

Forgiven!

Posted on by Platypus Man

We have recently been travelling, spending nearly three weeks north of the border in Scotland. We had a good time there, visiting old haunts and exploring new ones, but although it’s great to be back home again our return is tinged with anxiety – will the cats forgive us for abandoning them?

Caramel, aka the Ginger Ninja

Regular readers of this blog will know that, although we have no cats of our own, Mrs P and I have a close relationship with several of the local neighbourhood felines. They all lay claim to our garden, though they graciously allow us to use it too, and the most brazen of them – Malteser and Caramel – also enjoy prowling through the house, demanding regular attention, edible treats and loving belly rubs. Our role is simply to attend to their needs, and they are certain to be unhappy that we have recently been neglecting our duties.

We arrive home late afternoon on Tuesday, and I scan the garden hopefully. It’s an overgrown mess – no surprise there, given my lack of enthusiasm or talent for gardening – but it’s also a cat-free zone. Tomorrow, maybe?

Milky Bar, handsome but aloof

But Wednesday comes and goes with minimal feline activity. Milky Bar passes through, eyeing me up as he does, but not bothering to say hi. He’s an aloof cat who rarely greets us these days, but I’d hoped he’d at least acknowledge our return with a few well-directed purrs.

Thursday brings an unexpected visitor, neighbourhood wide-boy Cadbury. Our other feline friends all live together, but Cadbury is a new arrival from the other end of the estate. When he encounters Milky Bar, Malteser or Caramel hackles are raised on both sides, and the air crackles to sounds of mutual hissing and yowling. We wish Cadbury no harm, of course, but our affections lie with his feline opponents, so we shed no tears when he leaves.

Cadbury, the neighbourhood wide-boy

At last, on Friday morning, Caramel arrives. I’m in the kitchen making an early morning cup of tea, and glance through the window to see the ginger ninja – as we sometimes refer to him – peering hopefully into the garden pond. He’s clearly hoping to have a goldfish for breakfast, but the netting I installed years ago frustrates him once again.

Looking up, Caramel spots me watching him. The reaction is immediate. He meows several times, leaps onto the garden seat that sits beneath the kitchen window, and from there onto the window ledge. With his nose pressed up against the glass he stares in at me intently, checking me out. I can read his mind: Is it really you? Really? After all this time?

I cross to the door, and the moment I open up he dashes in, meowing furiously while rubbing himself against my legs. Where have you been? he demands. Abandoning me like that is unforgiveable. However, if you were to give me a large helping of Pawsome Pockets, I just might let you off this time! And with that he hops up onto one of the kitchen chairs, gazes cutely into my eyes and waits to be hand-fed. Mrs P joins us and together we give Caramel the breakfast to end all breakfasts.

When he’s done feeding our feline pal exits the kitchen, runs upstairs and stretches out on the comfy sofa in our library room. I sit next to him, and spend the next 30 minutes cradling his head, massaging his ears and rubbing his belly. Caramel purrs loudly, eyes closed, ecstasy oozing out of him. It’s just like the old days, before the trip to Scotland. Plainly, we’re forgiven.

Malteser in heaven

Malteser, however, waits until Saturday to dispense forgiveness. I spot him in the garden, sitting on the fence and peering disconsolately into the house. As soon as he sees me he perks up. I open the door to let him in and greets me with a friendly meow. I reach for the packet of Pawsome Pockets and he begins to purr loudly, clearly delighted that normal service has been resumed after a gap of three weeks. When he’s done eating he presents his belly and I rub it tenderly, and then do the same to his ears. He’s in heaven, and Mrs P and I are officially forgiven.

In all, it has taken nearly four days to rebuild the relationship with all our visiting cats. The bad news for them is that we’ve got a busy summer ahead, and will be going away several more times. With luck they will take pity on us, and we will quickly be forgiven for abandoning them again and again. Hopefully…

Caramel again!

Fans of Shaun the Sheep flock to Trentham Gardens

Posted on by Platypus Man

A couple of weeks ago, keen for a bit of light relief, we drove west to Trentham Gardens in Staffordshire in search of Shaun the Sheep. UK-based readers will doubtless be aware of Shaun, who first appeared in the Aardman stop-motion animated film A Close Shave in 1995, alongside madcap inventor Wallace and his canine sidekick Gromit.

Following rave reviews of his role in A Close Shave, in 2007 Shaun was offered his own BBC series. Six series later, he is as popular as ever with younger viewers. He’s even made it onto Netflix, so he now has fans just about everywhere. You might not think it to look at him, but Shaun’s world famous, maybe the best-known sheep on the planet.

So what was Shaun doing in the gardens at Trentham, on the outskirts of Stoke? Once the site of a grand country house set in a landscaped park, in recent years the Trentham Estate has been redeveloped as a leisure destination. Visitor numbers are the name of the game, so who can blame bosses at Trentham for inviting the woolly-coated global superstar along to lend his support this spring?

The Find the Flock Trail featured 12 supersized colourful Shaun the Sheep sculptures, painted by local and regional artists. We set out to track down as many of them as we could while also enjoying views of the award winning gardens, including an oriental-style bridge and several whimsical sculptures featuring fairies.

Standing 160cm tall and brightly coloured, the sculptures were easy to spot. In no sense does a sculpture trail like this count as fine art, but it’s a load of fun…and don’t we all need some of that these days, when every news bulletin on television and radio assails us with more grim news. In a further attempt to cheer up the visitors, each sculpture’s plinth featured a corny sheep joke. Here are just a few of them:

Q: Where do sheep like to watch videos?
A: Ewe-Tube.

Q: What’s a lamb’s favourite car?
A: A Lamborghini.

Q: What sport do sheep like to play?
A: Baadminton.

Q: What do you get if you cross a kangaroo and a sheep?
A: A woolly jumper

Ha ha ha (I think)! I guess those jokes tell you all you need to know. There was nothing sophisticated about the Find the Flock Trail, but who cares? A good time was had by all.

Wordless Wednesday – Gotcha!

Posted on by Platypus Man

Wordless Wednesday is a simple blog post featuring a photo. It seeks to convey a message, but speaks for itself without using words. Mrs P photographed this grisly encounter between two iguanas in Costa Rica in January 2014.

The Lost World of Post-War Prefab Houses

Posted on by Platypus Man

Next Thursday (May 8) is VE (Victory in Europe) Day, when events will be held across the UK to mark the 80th anniversary of the end of World War 2 in Europe. The war dragged on in the Far East until August 1945, but from a domestic perspective, May 1945 was when the UK could begin to focus its attention on recovery from five and a half years of brutal conflict.

One of the main priorities at the time was to deal with a serious shortage of housing caused by German air raids, limited resources and adjusted priorities during the war years. Prefabs – prefabricated homes that are built in factories and then erected on site – were seen as an integral part of the solution.

The looming problem of post-war domestic housing was identified as early as 1942, with Prime Minister Winston Churchill declaring in a speech “The first attack must evidently be made upon houses which are damaged, but which can be reconditioned into proper dwellings…the second attack on the housing problem will be made by what are called the prefabricated, or emergency, houses.“

Although Churchill was no longer Prime Minister, around 156,00 prefab bungalows were erected between 1945 and 1949, spread across a mix of 18 different designs. The intention was that they should be a temporary solution, lasting around 10 years until they could be replaced with houses constructed in a more traditional way. However, many survived decades longer than this and a few are still lived in today. Others have found their way into museums, including the Chiltern Open Air Museum, where we were pleased to encounter one a few months ago.

The prefab on display at the museum dates from 1947. It was one of 46 erected on the Finch Lane Estate in the Buckinghamshire town of Amersham, a little way north of London. The bungalow is built from 26 asbestos cement panels bolted together on a wood and steel frame, all laid out on top of a concrete base. These days, of course, building with asbestos would be strenuously avoided, but back then asbestos cement offered a swift and affordable solution to a massive social problem.

The Finch Lane Estate was demolished in 1987. Recognising that the prefabs were an important part of local and social history, managers at the Chiltern Open Air Museum arranged for one to be dismantled and kept in storage. It was finally reconstructed at the museum in 1992/93 and fitted out as it might have looked in 1950, with furnishings appropriate to that period.

To our 21st century eyes they may appear small, drab, miserable buildings in which to live out one’s life, but the people who lived in prefabs often saw them very differently. They called them palaces!

Many prefab occupants had previously lived an uncomfortable existence in crowded cities like London, often in shared accommodation with outside toilets and no hot water system. Prefabs addressed these shortcomings, and came with a range of modern conveniences such as a refrigerator. There was even some garden space wrapped around the building in which kids could play and adults could grow fruit and vegetables to supplement whatever food they could afford to buy in the shops

They may have owed their origins to some of the darkest days in our modern history, but, ugly though they are from a modern perspective, prefab houses were an important step up for many ordinary folk. Visiting the museum’s prefab offers visitors a tantalising glimpse of a lost world, and an opportunity to reflect on our good fortune to live at a time when such buildings are reduced to simple museum curiosities.

Making himself at home – a Caramel update

Posted on by Platypus Man

I have written previously about Caramel, one of several neighbourhood cats who claim ownership of our garden. At that time he was still a little cautious, happy to take edible treats thrown towards him in the garden and pleased to have his ears fondled, but otherwise reluctant to get up close and personal with us. I’m delighted to report that our relationship has developed in recent months, and he is now a regular house guest at Platypus Towers.

Mrs P and I generally wake up shortly after 6am, and by 6:30 our need for the first cup of tea of the day is overwhelming. I make my way downstairs, flick on the kettle and make the necessary preparations. And then I glance through the kitchen window into the garden where, almost always, Caramel is waiting, peering up at me with a look that says “get your priorities right, man. Tea can wait but I can’t, so let me in NOW“.

I do my duty, and then call upstairs to advise Mrs P that her services are required. Caramel dashes into the house as soon as I open the door, meowing squeakily as he passes me, and leaps immediately onto one of the kitchen chairs. I grab a packet of Pawsome Pockets – “crunchy pillow treats with a soft centre” – and pass them to Mrs P, who is now sitting on the other kitchen chair directly opposite the ravenous feline. Her job is to feed him by hand, pillow by pillow. Caramel has no manners and gulps the treats down greedily, purring loudly in appreciation of his ill-gotten breakfast.

Eventually Mrs P decides that enough is enough, and explains this to her furry friend. He’s not pleased, but knows that his morning fun has only just begun. Jumping down from the chair he sprints into the hallway, then thunders upstairs towards the room that we call The Library.

I follow dutifully, grabbing Caramel’s ball on the way. It is about the size of a tennis ball, but soft and squishy. I throw it against the far wall of The Library, and Caramel chases madly after it. Having captured his quarry he does a flamboyant victory roll, flashing his undercarriage for all to see. I lower myself onto the floor next to him, ignoring the protests of my ageing knees, and rub his belly. Caramel is in ecstasy, and lets rip with purring so loud as to be totally out of place in any self-respecting library. But he’s not bothered, and keeps up the purring for as long as I keep up the rubbing.

Finally, he decides the floor is no place for a cat of his pedigree, so he gets to his feet and jumps up onto the sofa that is tucked into one corner of the room. I sit down next to him, and set about massaging his belly, his ears, his chin and his ego. This goes on for maybe 15 minutes before I decide that I really do need my breakfast. I tell Caramel he can wait for me, but he doesn’t like to be left alone as he suffers from a severe case of FOMO – Fear Of Missing Out! I head downstairs and he follows me back into the kitchen, where I dispense a few more Pawsome Pockets before persuading him that he really should nip back home and spend a few minutes with the people who believe they own him.

We’re sad to see him go, but the chances are he’ll be back again once or twice more during the course of the day. And if not, we know that we’re in for a repeat performance tomorrow morning. And the morning after that. And the one after that too…you know how it is with cats, when they recognise they’ve won!

* * * * *

Postscript – update on Malteser and Milky Bar

Malteser loves Pawsome Pockets, particularly if we hand-feed him

Regular readers of this blog will know that Caramel shares a house with two feline companions, known to us as Malteser and Milky Bar. I am pleased to report that they too are still doing well. Malteser visits most days, and also enjoys Pawsome Pockets and belly rubs. Sometimes he and Caramel come indoors together and Mrs P has to feed them both by hand, one treat for Malteser, then one for Caramel, then one for Malteser followed immediately by one for Caramel. And so on…

Milky Bar living his best life!

Milky Bar is more restrained, and never crosses the threshold into our house. He does, however, enjoy sunning himself in the garden and drinking from the watering can. He, Caramel and Malteser are wonderful characters, and their visits are amongst the highlights of our daily lives. Long may it continue!

Wordless Wednesday – Salad Days

Posted on by Platypus Man

Wordless Wednesday is a simple blog post featuring a photo. It seeks to convey a message, but speaks for itself without using words. Mrs P took this photo of punters on the River Cam, passing beneath the Bridge of Sighs (part of St John’s College at Cambridge University), in August 2019.