Another missing cat in November :-(

Over sixteen years ago we acquired Cleo, who was a small and feisty kitten. Evidently she was a little older than we thought, because six months later - at the end of February 1999 - she gave birth to three kittens.

One of them only lived about six weeks; he became ill and the vet could not help. We were so upset at losing him that we decided to keep the other two.

Sophia was the intelligent one - hence her name - who quickly learned our schedules and bossed us all around. Jemima wasn't quite so bright, and she waddled like a 'puddleduck'. Hence her name.

Our feline family was completed, for a while, nearly two years later when Tessie walked into our house and our lives.

Not that Cleo's family never entirely accepted her.

In November of 2007, Jemima vanished. She was a quiet cat who avoided other people but liked to sleep outdoors at night. One neighbour said that, sometimes, nice cats were stolen to be sold. It seemed a strange theory, but better than any alternative. I was her special human and I missed her enormously; but by that stage, Daniel had left home. He was Sophia's special human, and she gradually transferred her affections to me.

Tim was Tessie's special person; he was looking after the house for us in November last year, when Tessie vanished in a similar manner. One day she was around, as usual; the next she was not. He hunted around the neighbourhood but there was no sign. She was thirteen at the time; not old, but she'd had a few strange episodes of hiding away, with unknown sickness. We never did find her.

So we were down to two increasingly elderly cats. Which is why, when we had the opportunity to adopt two kittens in the summer, we did so.

Thankfully the older cats accepted them well.

Cleo developed arthritis over the past year, and one of her legs became swollen. Around May or June she turned sixteen, which is equivalent to 96 in human years. She could no longer jump much, but she was still eating and washing happily, and purring as she snuggled into us at night.

Here she is, getting comfortable on a cushion about a month ago:

Sophia developed a slight lump on her right eyelid, and we were concerned enough that a visiting friend who has worked as a veterinary nurse took a look; he said it was a hematoma, probably caused by high blood pressure. As it caused her no distress he recommended ignoring it, unless it grew big enough to obstruct her vision.

It actually got smaller.. here she is, earlier this week, looking regal on the beanbag:

We were - at least in theory - prepared for the fact that Cleo might one day wander out of the house, and find a peaceful secluded spot, and fade away. It's what happened to our first cat, Toby, back in 1992. 

What we did not expect was that Sophia would vanish. Out of the blue, two days ago. Just like Jemima and Tessie did, except that it was in broad daylight. Sophia, who was an extremely vocal cat, would have let the entire neighbourhood know if she had got shut in somewhere, or if anybody tried to catnap her. 

It took me a couple of hours to notice that she'd gone out and not come in again; she used to ask to go in and out of my study door rather than using the cat flap, but she would often sleep outside in the sunshine. I was surprised when I went to water plants, and she did not appear to tell me off for wasting water. But I thought that perhaps she had come back into the house via the cat flap after all, and that I would find her inside somewhere, peacefully asleep.

I could not locate her anywhere.

I walked around the neighbourhood, afraid that she might have been run over, but there was no sign. I called for her, and listened.. but there was no distinctive Sophia mew. 

I became increasingly concerned.. and she did not come back. 

A friend mentioned that he had seen her scavenging in a dustbin a few days earlier; perhaps, he theorised, she ate something that's toxic for cats. I then started to wonder if her blood pressure was getting higher and she suffered a stroke. I tried to recall whether she had been behaving differently in recent weeks, and all I could think of was that she had been more peaceable, less bossy. 

Two days later there is still no sign - or sound - of Sophia, and I've given up searching. If by chance she got taken somewhere else, perhaps in the back of a truck, then it's just possible she might find her way home. But she was an old cat - she would have turned 16 in a few months. I had hoped she might have lived a few years longer as she seemed to be in such good health - but apparently not. 

I miss her, so much. 

It never occurred to me that Cleo would be the last remaining of our original four.

Transforming an elderly jumper (or sweater) into a cat bed

Once upon a time, many years ago, a new and very warm woolly jumper (or sweater, if you're from the US) arrived in our household. I don't remember exactly when, or even how it was acquired, but I think it was a gift from one of my siblings to Daniel. He always seemed to feel cold in the winter, and was very appreciative of this gift which he wore on many occasions.

I was, at first, a bit worried about it going in the washing machine, but hand-washing proved to be such a chore that the jumper sat at the bottom of the laundry basket for far too long. Eventually I tried a delicate setting, and it was just fine.

Daniel was still wearing this jumper regularly back in January 2006, just before he left Cyprus to join the MV Doulos:

He didn't take it with him, however, as he knew that he would be mostly in warm temperatures. We kept it in his closet for a while, but somehow it was appropriated by Richard, who also feels decidedly cold at times.

Then one year, he took it to the UK.  And - as so often - our luggage was overweight, so we left some things behind, including this jumper which he decided would be more useful there than in Cyprus, as our new house is rather warmer than our old one.  And there it stayed. It no longer fitted Daniel: over the years it had been washed at less delicate settings, so that it had shrunk a little. Daniel doesn't tend to wear that kind of sweater any more, anyway. On subsequent trips to the UK, Richard was pleased to find it, and wore it.

It was still going strong in 2011 when he wore it on a walk the park in Birmingham:

It was decidedly past its best. There were a few holes that had developed in the sleeves, and it was beginning to feel 'felted'. We didn't want to throw it out - it really was a very nice jumper - but it was beginning to feel a bit tight even on Richard. He suggested I could have it, but I found the material just a little too scratchy, and also rather too warm.

Then, idly browing online (as you do) I came across this wonderful page about making a cat bed from an old sweater.  It looked simple enough, even for me. And I knew exactly which sweater would be perfect for the job...

We brought it back from our recent trip, and when I found it, I ignored all the piles of things to be put away, and everything else that needed to be done, and set to work to make it.  Sophia was very interested and kept trying to climb onto it while I was sewing... which turned out to be a good thing. When it was finally finished and I put it on the floor, she jumped in and sat there defiantly, quite certain I didn't want her there:

Then, not long afterwards, Cleo found it and also decided that she liked it:

I did wonder if I would need to make a second cat bed, but so far there have not been any squabbles - each of them sleeps in it occasionally.  I suspect they may do so more often when it gets colder. 

Regular readers of this blog might be wondering why there are only two cats mentioned in conjunction with the cat bed.  That's because, sadly, our third cat Tessie vanished while we were in the UK. She went out one afternoon, and did not return. Tim searched the house from top to bottom including all cupboards, closets and balconies, and went around the neighbourhood too, wondering if she had accidentally got shut away somewhere. She often stayed out overnight... but was always waiting to come in when we appeared in the morning. She wasn't very good with the cat flap.

Here's quite a flattering picture of her a couple of years ago, sitting on our guest flat doormat: 

Tessie was a very friendly cat; perhaps she would have gone off with someone trying to steal cats, but she wasn't young. We kept hoping she would return but it's been nearly four weeks now. We're all sad, but it seems unlikely that she will come back after all this time.

It reminds me rather too strongly of when Jemima vanished almost exactly six years ago :-( 

Another walk and some vanishing trees

My early morning walks with Sheila have turned into a pleasant, regular habit three times per week. We communicate via text when we have both woken up, and usually leave our respective homes somewhere between about 6.00 and 6.15am. It's a pleasant time of day... or has been. Today there was quite a chill in the air, and I was glad of my long trousers and light jacket.

As we approached the Salt Lake trail, the area seemed lighter than usual. There was a gap, where previously there had not been a gap:

I'm not particularly observant, particularly at that time in the morning, but Sheila commented that this empty ground had been full of trees and bushes only yesterday. 

We didn't walk quite as quickly as usual, because Sheila's youngest daughter was with us, half asleep on her back. And while the sunrise wasn't as stunning as some of the recent ones we've seen, I took a photo anyway - most of the picture appears darker than it was in reality due to the sun shining so brightly:

On our way back, the newly cleared area was even barer looking, and a digger of some kind was busy taking out more trees:

We have no idea why this would be happening. Perhaps it's related to the new sewerage pipes. Or maybe they're even going to build more houses here, although it seems unlikely; there are far too many construction sites already, either half-done, or lying empty. 

When I arrived home and took my shoes off, I was greeted by Tessie who was very happy to have my shoe box entirely to herself: 

Still, I did manage to get one of my shoes in...

A post about our cats

Other than a brief mention of our youngest cat Tessie, just over a week ago, I've said very little about our cats for some time. This isn't because because they are any less important to us, but they're all getting older now and tend to spend a lot of time sleeping.

November has really been very mild so far this year, despite a bit of rain now and again. Today, after a somewhat grey day yesterday, the sun has been out - at least until it started to get dark. We haven't had to think about any heating yet, but the cats have switched from sleeping on the floor (which keeps them cool in the summer) to sleeping in random comfortable places around the house.

Or, maybe, not so random. When I want to look for Cleo, the usual place to find her is somewhere upstairs, very often right in the middle of our bed:

I like it very much when she's there just before I get into it at night during the winter, as she leaves a nice warm patch.

Cleo was 14 at some point during the summer, so according to the cat year calculator on Wikipedia, she's around the equivalent of 73 in human years. The Catcalculator site puts her at 80 - there's no true correlation with human years so it's impossible to say with any exactness. Whether in her 70s or past 80, Cleo remains lively at times, despite sleeping a great deal. Athough a few years ago she started losing fur, in a somewhat worrying manner, it's now thick and glossy as ever.

Sophia is Cleo's daughter, and will be 14 at the end of February next year. She has become my cat I have become her human since Daniel left home, and she usually follows me around the house, talking to me at length, hassling me if she thinks I should be elsewhere, or even rounding up visitors when she thinks it's time for them to leave. Sophia is a very organised and highly intelligent cat, but she is slowing down too as befits her advancing years.

One of the places she likes to sleep is on the sofa in my study, if she can catch a bit of sunshine through the french windows:

She's also very keen on my beanbag:

If I sit on the beanbag to read, as I do first thing in the morning, she sits on me to purr. But for some reason she's not very keen on my lap when I'm at the computer.

And yes, observant readers might notice a tiny lump at the corner of Sophia's right eye. I hope it's just a tiny cyst; it doesn't seem to bother her, and isn't growing as far as we can tell.

As for Tessie, when she's not in my shoebox her new bed she likes sleeping on the printer. Not very good for it when it's uncovered, so I usually remember to put a plastic cover on it, to keep out dust and of course cat hair:

Tessie must now be around 12. We don't know when her birthday is, but she was perhaps a couple of months old when she arrived on our doorstep, Christmas 2000.  That makes her the equivalent of 64-70, depending on which calculator we trust. She is still the most kittenish of our cats, and the most violent too, where other cats are concerned. The other neighbourhood cats don't dare to come on our property now; they're all terrified of her. Despite her cute and fluffy appearance. 

We occasionally talk about acquiring a couple of kittens, since we're becoming all too aware that we won't have these three cats forever.  Cats can live till around 20 or even older, but 16-18 is more usual. However, with Tessie's territorial instincts, we're not sure that new kittens would survive, and I can't say that I'm anxious to go through the small kitten stage again... 

So we'll see. 

Finding a use (or two) for a cardboard box...

We were very pleased when recycling was, at last, introduced to Cyprus a couple of years ago. The trucks come round every Monday night, and I put out a bag of mixed plastics/metal/drink containers about once a month when we've collected sufficient to fill it at least half-way. 

I also put out paper once or twice per month, depending primarily on how much junk mail has arrived.  However, I have not yet had to buy any bags for paper recycling; we were told that we could use cardboard boxes if we preferred, and so far I seem to have a plentiful supply of suitable sized boxes. The motto of recycling is of course, 'reduce, reuse, recycle' (at least in the UK), so in using boxes for holding my recycling, I am at least re-using them. Reducing is tricky; I do try to reduce the plastic bags I collect, but workers in shops are very keen to give them out, and I do re-use them all for collecting dirty cat litter, or for lining bins. 

It's also difficult to reduce the number of cardboard boxes that enter our home. Any time we order anything from the UK, it's likely to arrive in one or more boxes, well-packed and clearly labelled. I'm always pleased when items are packed inside with polystyrene beads of some kind, as I re-use those to pour into the beanbag where I sit and read. They gradually seem to get squashed, so a steady supply of top-up beads, as provided free by various mail-order companies, is very welcome. 

However, the cardboard boxes were getting a little out of hand recently, so I decided to re-use one of them as a simple container to take my walking shoes when I come in. We have a two-tier table by the front door, but I didn't want to put muddy shoes directly on the lower surface (and they have been really quite muddy after some of my recent early morning walks) - yet I did need a place to put them, to remind me to take them off as soon as I arrive home!

Creating such a container was the work of a moment once I had the idea. Creative crafts are not my thing, but a bit of parcel tape around the edge held the flaps in place, and my new outdoor shoe container was ready: 

It is not a thing of beauty [that was an example of the Great British Understatement] but it's out of the way, and convenient. 

However, Tessie assumed I had created a new bed for her; she's not quite such a box-dweller as our other cats, preferring large spaces to tight fits.  But she did like the fact that I provided a nice hard surface (in the form of shoes) to rub her face against if she has an itch, and even some cat toys (in the form of laces) for times when she gets bored. 

Here she is having a wash.. 

Who would have guessed that a random box could be a wardrobe, a bed, a playroom and even a bath....? 

Enjoying some special visitors

Last Friday evening, we met Daniel and Becky at the airport for their first visit to Cyprus since getting married at the end of April last year. Since we have converted what used to be Daniel's room into Richard's study for his sabbatical, they are sleeping - and breakfasting - in our ground floor guest flat.

Sophia is, of course, very happy that Daniel is here:

However, she seems happy to accept that he sleeps downstairs, and still spends the night on my feet, waking me fairly early in the mornings. She has sat on me once or twice too, something she didn't do at all last time Daniel visited. I feel very honoured.

Naturally, we have already played several games, including Ticket to Ride:

And my small friends were very happy to see Becky again, when they came over yesterday morning:

Last night, Richard was out, so after a fairly quick Ticket to Ride game (which Daniel won by a considerably amount, although I would have done if we'd had just one more round...) we realised that we could play a card game:

Richard will not play card games. Ever.

It's not just Sophia who likes sitting on Daniel. He seems to have a natural affinity for cats. Here he is with Tessie:

I'm sure the time will race past while they're here, but we're very much enjoying having them. And while it's been fairly rainy, and decidedly chilly, at least it's rather warmer than Carlisle where they are usually based.

Unpredictable Cyprus weather in January

One doesn't, of course, expect warm weather in the Northern hemisphere during January. But Cyprus is renowned for having plenty of sunshine. We wear two or three layers of clothing during the daytime, sleep under a warm duvet at night, and run our central heating morning and evening, although sometimes it doesn't even cut in because the house is already warmer than 15C. I really don't mind January at all, in general.

Just over a week ago, it was a gorgeous day. Richard was out, and my friend Sheila suggested a walk, without any children. We went to the Salt Lake trail, and saw the flamingoes looking very pink:

After the amount of rain we've had, the Salt Lake is looking quite full this year. We walked for a little over an hour, and felt distinctly warm by the time we returned. I even took my fleece off during the walk, although I had to put it on again shortly after returning home. Even after fourteen years, I still find it odd that it's often warmer outside than in.

During last week, however, the temperatures plummeted. A couple of times it got as low as 3C overnight. It was no more than 12 during the daytime, and we had to run the heating a couple of times in the middle of the day just to stop ourselves from shivering.

Cleo is very much enjoying Richard's sabbatical, and keeps warm by sitting on him any time he's home. She likes his black chair, too, which nicely camouflages her - or so she thinks:

Sophia curls up in a tight ball wherever she happens to be sleeping, which is not very photogenic, but Tessie isn't quite so used to sleeping on beanbags, and was happy to pose when the sun came out:

There has been a lot more rain, too. The reservoirs are fuller than they have been for a long time, and some of the dams are even overflowing. Most of the island's water comes from the snow (in the mountains) melting in the spring, so it's very good news that we have so much water already.

But I was glad to wake up to some sunshine this morning, even though it's still a bit cold.

Friday update

For once, the week has not whizzed past as rapidly as expected. And that's not because Summer is here; oddly enough, it's been less hot than expected (no more than 30C in the sun) and perhaps more significantly, it hasn't become really humid yet. Somewhat sticky in evenings, but really not bad at all during the daytime. I know this will change sooner or later, but in the meantime am enjoying cool early mornings, and being able to use the kitchen in the daytime without either suffering or using the air conditioning.

On Monday, the Christian Writers' group met here in the morning, and we had a potluck lunch since it was our last meeting until September. People travel out of Cyprus during the summer, very often, and it's likely to be much too hot to do anything much - and we like eating together a couple of times per year. It was good that I had something to think about, since I was feeling a little on tenterhooks: our son Tim was flying out of the UK on Monday.

Or so we thought.

Originally he had been planning to come to Cyprus for just two and a half weeks in August. But for various reasons his plans changed, and he decided that he would like a longer break in the sun. We were able to find some very good value flights via Lufthansa, with the outgoing ones on Monday, due to arrive at 2.00am Tuesday morning.

Mid-afternoon, Tim called to say that while he was on the bus on his way to the airport, he had received a call letting him know that his flight was cancelled! However they told him to go to the airport anyway and they would sort it out for him. He wondered if they would put him on a bus to Heathrow and the Cyprus Air flight... but no. They booked him into the Airport Hotel overnight, and found three flights on the Tuesday, due to arrive at 5.00pm. Which is a much more sociable arrival time, and since he was coming for eight weeks, losing one day isn't too big a deal.

He had to be up very early (4.00am UK time!) on Tuesday, but all the flights went smoothly, arriving in time for the connections, and we were very happy to see our son at the airport when he finally arrived. He was tired, but suggested a game in the evening... at which he creamed us both:


(Anyone who plays Settlers and wants to know a little more about the game, I did write a brief post about this game on my Settlers blog which has been much neglected recently).

Yes, that's Cleo in the box lid. She has become much more sociable in the summer, and her favourite place to sleep is in the lid of any box that happens to be open. Whether or not she actually fits...

On Wednesday Tim relaxed, and slept somewhat, and chatted. At least, he tried to relax. It wasn't easy because the road works finally started in our street, and they were extremely noisy. The cats were upset and scared. Well; oddly enough Cleo, usually the most nervous cat, wasn't too worried. she did flick her ears a few times when a particularly loud machine went by, but other than that did not seem too concerned. Sophia sat on the stairs, looking extremely worried, but then she always hates loud diggers, which she seems to think are going to eat her.

Tessie surprised us the most by being truly terrified. She mewed - real mews, not her usual chattering cries - extremely loudly when I was in the bathroom, evidently telling me to get out. Then she hid under the bed. We can only assume that she thought we were having a major earthquake and was trying to keep us safe.

Thankfully the pipes seem to have been laid very quickly, and the road was back to normal again by late afternoon.

We were due to play a game with friends in the evening but they had to cancel due to illness, so Tim watched a DVD with Richard in the evening . And on Thursday decided that he'd done enough relaxing, so he went to the office to do some (voluntary) work with Richard. As he has done today.

Then friends who are shortly leaving Cyprus had dinner with us last night. So it's been quite a busy and enjoyable week.

Pondering Tessie's ancestry...

Cats in Cyprus come in many shapes, colours and sizes. There are fairly large populations of feral cats, popular with some Cypriots because they keep the snake population down, although others, sadly, kick them (or worse) and consider them vermin.

Despite a wide range of cats, there's a fairly typical 'Middle Eastern' cat shape that we see fairly commonly. A hint of siamese, perhaps, but basically long and lean with large ears, and good at hunting. Survival of the fittest, I suppose, for hot summers and limited food supplies over the centuries.

Cleo, our 12-year-old cat, is typical of these cats. Her daughter Sophia, who will be 12 in February, is similar, although heavier, tortoiseshell rather than black, and considerably more talkative.

But Tessie, our youngest cat (she will soon be ten) is very different. We didn't adopt her: she adopted us. She's not long and lean; she's more rounded, with fluffy fur that she grooms almost continually. And the most remarkable tail:


We'd never seen anything like it. It seemed rather out of place at first, but we soon got used to it. Tessie has other characteristics that make her stand out from our other cats too. She's much more playful, for one thing. They were all energetic and playful as kittens, and even now will occasionally bat something random around the floor for a few minutes. But Tessie used to go and find round Lego pieces to play with. She, of all the cats, is the most likely to attack fingers or toes - even now she's middle-aged. She would love to play with Cleo and Sophia, too, although they are not interested. And Tessie sometimes thinks that rolling dice are for her benefit:


One of the things that particularly endeared us to Tessie when she arrived on our doorstep nearly ten years ago was that she was very good with small children. Cleo and Sophia are not. Sophia's twin Jemima, who disappeared a couple of years ago, was the worst of all. Any sign of a small child in the house meant that we would find her hiding under the bed.

But Tessie, newly arrived, spent hours playing with small visiting children. We assumed she must have belonged to a family with little ones before getting lost, or abandoned. These days, with small children fairly frequent guests in our house, Cleo tends to vanish, Sophia complains a bit and then goes upstairs... but Tessie often stays, and likes to play with children. She even let my small friend Helen stroke her last year:


Tessie's voice is nothing like that of the others - occasionally she seems to be trying to mew, but no sound comes out. None that we can hear, anyway. She can make the most appalling noise when defending her territory from other cats, but her normal 'talking' voice - when she is outside a door which she wants opened, for instance - is a kind of chirrup. We wondered for a while if her first family had caged birds.

But as with a person, unusual characteristics gradually seem less significant as one gets to know them better. Tessie likes a lot of affection - possibly more than the other two - which is fine. The worst problem we have with her is that she likes to 'mark' territory - something we thought that only male cats could do. She stands up, her tail quivering, and sprays. It doesn't smell as bad as a male cat, and we don't at all mind if it's outside. We're less impressed when she does it inside as she does, any time she's under stress or when something new comes into the house - such as a suitcase. Recently this has been much less frequent than it used to be; perhaps she's becoming more relaxed.

Last week, I was reading a book called 'Paw Tracks at Owl Cottage', which was about four Maine Coon cats in the UK. I didn't know anything about this breed, other than having a vague idea that they were generally enormous cats.

So imagine my surprise when I read that the distinguishing feature of these cats is not their size (which may be huge, but not always) - but their thick fluffy tails. So large and unusual that they got their name due to a mistaken belief that they were somehow descended from raccoons. Just like Tessie's tail.

Out of curiosity, I googled 'Maine Coon cats'. I found this useful page from a Maine Coon cat breeder. Amongst other things, I read:

"Their dispositions remain kittenish throughout their lives"

"they have a distinctive, chirping trill"

"They generally get along well with kids"

"their eyes.. are large, round, expressive, and set a a slightly oblique angle"


(they have) "round, tufted feet "


If that weren't enough, I read on another site that most (though not all) Maine Coon cats have white chests - as Tessie does - and that both male and female Maine Coon cats are prone to spraying to mark their territory.

Of course, we have no way of ever knowing who Tessie's parents were, let alone her other ancestors. She's unlikely to be any kind of pure-bred cat - if she had been, her original family would (I assume) have looked after her better, and made far more effort to find her when she disappeared. Piecing together clues over the years, we think she was probably left behind when her original family moved house.

But still. A lot of things fell into place in my mind. It was amazing just how many details fit together. It won't make any difference to us knowing that she may well have Maine Coon in her ancestry - but it's nice to understand, at last, why (perhaps) she is the way she is in so many respects.

Lazy Sunday...

.. at least, as far as the cats are concerned.

Sophia is sitting on her favourite turtle. She avoided it for most of the Summer, but now the temperatures are cooler, she likes a fluffy place to sit on. Probably still a little warm from the sunshine coming in the window earlier:


She half opened her eyes when I took the photo, and then went straight back to sleep.

Tessie is also in the study, perched on the back of the sofa. She and Sophia really don't get along, but it's surprising how often I find them sleeping in the same location.


She had a quick wash after I'd taken the photo - the cats tolerate the camera, but aren't particuarly keen on it - and then also went back to sleep.

As for Cleo, I was pretty sure where I'd find her. Not as consistently sociable as the other two, she was exactly where I thought she would be. Curled up in the middle of our bed:


She also opened her eyes when I appeared, and scowled at me suspiciously. Perhaps she thought I was going to disturb her rest by changing the sheets, or getting into bed myself. As I left the room, she relaxed and also went back to sleep.

Settlers by Skype, and a slightly confused cat

One of the problems of living in Cyprus is that we don't see our sons very much. They can't just pop home for a weekend, as they could if we were in the UK.

So I'm continually thankful for computers and other modern technology that allows us to be in regular contact. A few weeks ago I wrote about a game of Settlers we played with Tim, via Skype. It worked so well that we tried again last night. This time, we decided to use our dining room table, where there's more space, and where we didn't have to kneel on the floor to play. Richard didn't remember exactly what settings he used last time, but he set up my portable webcam on his computer, and also our video camera to focus on the Settlers board:


The picture of Tim didn't seem as clear as it was last time, and it didn't feel quite so comfortable having him sitting on the table... but still, it worked pretty well and was good to be able to chat while playing:


I win Settlers games far more often than I'm comfortable with. Earlier in the evening Richard and I had played our two-person version of Cities and Knights, and I won by rather a large amount. So I had decided I was NOT going to win this game, and indeed, for a while I was a point or two behind the others.

So although at one point I could have won, I decided (and told them) that I'd rather prolong the game a little longer, and did a different move that gave me 11 points rather than the winning 12.

I was glad I did, since in the next round Tim managed to win with 13 points:


I cleared the game away, while Richard and Tim talked more about the technology, and which chat programs worked best, and how to make the sound better, and other such geeky stuff.

Tessie evidently heard Tim's voice, and jumped onto the table (not that she's allowed to do that... ) and stared at the computer:


Tessie is Tim's cat, primarily. She looked rather confused. He called her, and she actually walked right over and sniffed at the screen:


Then, knowing from the scent that Tim was nowhere to be found, she jumped down and started washing.

Tim in Cyprus for a couple of weeks :-)

Part of the pattern that comes with our now empty nest is that our 'chicks' arrive for holiday, although from our perspective they are never long enough. Just over two weeks ago, Daniel departed after his furlough. And last Thursday, in the very early hours, Tim arrived. He's only here for a fortnight, so we're making the most of it.

Naturally he had to get to know the youngest of our local friends, Elisabeth, who is now two months old:


He also wanted to play a 'proper' board game of Ticket to Ride; prior to this he had only played the online version:


Of course we have played Settlers of Catan too. Two regular six-person games with our friends, and one three-person Cities and Knights game so far. Tim has won them all.


We went to the beach on Friday evening, with our friends. The sea was so warm it felt almost like bath-water, although thankfully the weather isn't quite as hot as it was a week ago.

This morning Tim popped into the children's holiday club run by Larnaka Community Church, since some of his friends were helping there. He was welcomed by the leaders, and ended up staying to help. He is planning to be a primary school teacher in a few years, so the 5-11 age range is his favourite to work with. He will probably return for the rest of the week. This afternoon he's looking after two sons and a friend of our friends, probably playing Carcassonne with them.

On Saturday evening some friends came for a meal. More friends are coming tomorrow, and yet more for Sunday lunch next Sunday. Tim played the piano at St Helena's church service yesterday, and will do so again next week. It doesn't sound like a particularly restful break to me, but he likes to be busy.

Tim is particularly pleased to be back with the cats. Tessie, who considers him her personal property, is thrilled to have him home:


Cleo is pleased to see him too. It's only Sophia who is still a little disgruntled that Daniel didn't come back too...

Cold and wet in Cyprus, but the cats stay warm

For the first time this winter, it's been chilly this week. Not as bad as the UK, I'm glad to say, but really quite cold for Cyprus. Down to about 3 or 4C overnight, and no more than around 10 or 11 during the daytime. On Monday I walked to the PO Box wearing my warm jacket on top of a sweatshirt - the first time I've worn it since last winter. I thought i would be over-hot by the time I got home, after a couple of miles of walking. But I wasn't. I wasn't cold any more... but I didn't want to take my jacket off until I was home. Tuesday, if anything, was colder. The sun shone, which was cheering after last week's rain, but it was decidedly not warm.

Yesterday it was so cold that we even ran the heating during the daytime, something we very rarely do. The cats found what was probably the warmest place in the house... and despite Sophia and Tessie not liking each other, they managed to share my beanbag in relative peace: