November in Cyprus: kitten update, first rains

Kittens

In my last post, I wrote about two kittens that we were fostering. We had almost given up hope of finding a permanent home for them. We knew we had to keep them for another few weeks before they could go to the cat sanctuary, and I was beginning to wonder if we would succeed in doing so. The boiler room was fine when they were just three weeks old. But they were getting bigger and stronger, needing to climb and run around. It wouldn't be long before they were able to escape.

Half an hour supervised in our side yard each afternoon gave them some exercise, but I knew it wasn't really enough. Richard was working at a conference so I was on my own with them, and I was concerned that they would suddenly make a dash for the road. Even at two months old, they were still very small and would not know to get out of the way of a car.

I took this video eleven days ago:

I'm so glad I did. An hour or so later I had a message from Richard, sent in one of his breaks. He had mentioned the kittens a few weeks earlier on one of the Facebook groups for kittens in Cyprus, and had just received the first enquiry. He said that a man and his wife wanted to come and see them that evening. He didn't think they would take them that evening, and he wasn't sure if they wanted more than one. But we didn't think they should be separated. The boy kitten became quite distraught if he didn't know where his sister was, even for a minute or two.

In the evening, the enquirer arrived with his wife and their two children. They weren't young children, and they were very good with the kittens. They were all smitten almost immediately, and agreed that they would have both of them. Then they asked if they could take them immediately. They thought it would help the kittens to settle in if they could have them on a Friday evening, so they had the whole weekend together. 

I know one is supposed to take foster kittens to a potential new home, to check that everything is okay. But I had a good feeling about the family. They already had an older cat and a dog, and clearly knew how to handle kittens. I couldn't get hold of Richard to see what he thought. So I agreed. I lent them the cat carrier that we share with friends, and gave them the remaining kitten food. 

I felt quite poignant as I said goodbye, but the family suggested we go and visit them when Richard was available, to see how they were doing, and to collect the carrier. And over the next couple of days they sent us photos like this one, and let us know how the kittens were doing, so we were quite reassured: 

There was a lot of rain that weekend, as well as lightning and thunder. I think it would have been quite scary for two small kittens alone in the boiler room. And it would have been difficult to give them any outside playtime. So the timing was perfect. 

A week later we went to see the kittens in their new home, and saw that they were very contented and well-settled. They were happy to play with us, but clearly at home in their new environment. The dog likes them, and they seem to like the dog. The older cat is keeping out of the way. 

I have no regrets.  Lady Jane, our one remaining cat, who is now ten-and-a-half, is no longer sniffing at me suspiciously and turning her back. She knew we were not being faithful to her, even though she's a fully indoor cat so she never saw the kittens. 

Rain and the Salt Lake

The Salt Lake had dried out over the summer and had very little water in it after the first brief rain showers earlier in the month.  But the rain ten days ago made much more of an impression: 

News reports (and some friends) mentioned that the flamingoes had returned, but I didn't see any myself until this morning's walk, after more heavy rain over the past weekend:

The weather is cooler, too. Down to 13-14 degrees early morning, no more than about 20 in the daytime. I very much like wearing socks and a warm layer even in the daytime, sometimes needing an extra layer in the evening (or when walking first thing). And since we no longer have kittens living in our boiler room, we can have our heating serviced... not that we're in any need of central heating yet. Unlike in the UK where my Facebook feed today was full of pictures of snow that had fallen last night.  

Life in general 

I've made this year's mincemeat, in preparation for mince pies once December has started. I still have a Christmas pudding left from the three I made last year, and it doesn't seem to have dried up, so I won't make a new one. I'm still uploading more images and links on my book blog, and I'm trying to get back into Photobox although I really don't like the new design interface. It seems a whole lot more complicated than it used to be, and I'm a long way behind on our 2024 photobook. 

Losing another cat

We've been married for over forty years, and in that time we have adopted and loved ten different cats. Two of them were, sadly, very short-lived, and four of them disappeared, leaving no trace.  Two died of old age (one at 15, one at over 18).  And we're still feeling shocked and sad after losing the ninth.

Alex was the largest of his litter, born early April 2014. He and his two sisters lived with their mother and our friends until they were three months old. Our son, who lived in a flat about a kilometre away adopted Lady Jane, and we adopted the other two: Alexander the Great and Joan of Arc. We didn't use their full names, of course, unless they were in trouble... 

We had both Cleo, our longest-lived cat, and her daughter Sophia at the time. It took a while for Alex and Joan to be accepted, and they were never close friends with our older cats. But gradually they learned to live alongside each other. I wrote a long post about our newly adopted kittens in September 2014, with some photos. 

Then, just a couple of months after that post, Sophia disappeared. I wrote a post about that, too. And Joan of Arc vanished just before Christmas 2015. She and Alex had only been going outside for six months and mostly played together when, one evening, he returned and she didn't. We thought at first that they must have caught a feline bug as he wasn't well for a few days afterwards, but then realised his tail was injured. He was also terrified when he heard cars, for a while. So perhaps she was hit by a car and he just escaped. We'll never know. 

In the summer of 2016 we adopted Lady Jane, when our son moved back to the UK. And in January 2017, Cleo died after a very brief period of being obviously unwell. She had seemed frail for a while, but had been eating and washing normally until just a week or so before she died, aged around eighteen and a half. We were sad but not devastated, although Cleo's passing felt like the end of an era. She had been with us for almost all our time in Cyprus. 

So then we just had Alex and Jane. They were never as close as Alex and Joan had been, but still good companions. 

Jane remained very kitten-like, scampering about the house, jumping on my shoulder, leaping onto bookcases, chasing bits of string or other 'toys' she discovered around the house. Alex slowed down somewhat, however. Of all our cats, he's the one who had the most medical issues. I think we took him to the vet more than all the others put together. 

It started with his tail injury (well, other than having him neutered at a young age).  Then he had a couple of strange incidents, where he seemed to be short of breath, and crying as if he were very scared. The vet examined him thoroughly each time but couldn't find anything wrong - and, by the time we got him to the vet, he was often getting over whatever the problem was, anyway. 

Alex used to catch birds sometimes, on the roof, so it's not surprising that we had to buy worming tablets for him regularly. We got to know the symptoms (a lot of coughing and retching) so we could just buy tablets rather than taking him to the vet and paying an extra fee for doing so. And we were increasingly concerned that he would drink a lot of water, far more than is normal for a cat. 

One of our visitors was a vet, and she said it was likely he had kidney problems. But she said that it would be uncomfortable for him (and expensive for us) to have tests to confirm this - and that medication, if available in Cyprus (which was doubtful) wouldn't significantly improve or prolong his life. She said he was obviously an active, much loved and contented cat, but we should be aware that the time would probably come when he would have to be put to sleep by the vet. She said we would know when that time was: it could be within a year or two, it could be longer. 

In the event, he died at home, unexpectedly on 19th March this year. He had another crying and breathless episode which lasted a bit longer than usual, then he seemed to recover. Then he had a kind of fit, and within a few minutes, was gone.  It was just a few weeks before his 10th birthday.

I don't think we've ever been so sad and shocked at losing a cat. Alex was more of a companion than a pet - he followed us around (particularly Richard) and kept us in line: he was quite demanding sometimes, but always very loving. 

In retrospect we wonder if there was a problem with his heart, as well as his kidneys. He had slowed down so much, more so than other cats of his age. Admittedly Jane is unusually active and lively, but he had started plodding rather than running, and was less and less inclined to jump more than a short distance. 

Alex had a good life, even if it was cut short. And we're both thankful that we didn't have to make that final decision for him. But still, it has been very difficult to get used to him being gone. Jane is now an 'only' cat: even if she would permit another feline inhabitant of the house, we're not planning on having any more cats. 

I started writing this post a day or two afterwards, but I couldn't bring myself to finish it until now. 

Rest in peace, Alexander the Great. 

A working boiler and other incidents

 I mentioned in my last post that the weather, at last, was beginning to cool down in mid-January. Our central heating boiler, which had been unreliable for many years, had another service just before Christmas. That is to say, Richard did the standard cleaning and checking valves, but nothing happened. So he called out the engineer - a local and friendly person. He arrived, checked everything, and then gave part of it a big thump. That worked, and the heating came on. 

But it wasn't all that cold, so we weren't surprised when it didn't come on the following day. On Christmas Day itself, we used our air conditioners set to heat. A few days later when it was quite chilly, Richard went to the boiler room and hit the system in the place where the engineer had shown him. He had to try two or three times, but it did the trick: the heating came on. For an hour or two...

A couple of days later, the same scenario was repeated. And Richard said he was a bit worried that he might break something. In previous years we sometimes had to run down and press a button to turn the heating on, but this was more serious. Perhaps, we thought, it was time for a new boiler. 

The heating engineer told us that a new one would be much more efficient - potentially saving us a fair amount in gas bills - and that our old one was so archaic, he didn't think it could be repaired. He came to the house and measured all our radiators (we have at least twenty, including those in our guest flat and some that we don't use), so he could calculate how much power was necessary. And then, after doing some research, he gave us a quote which seemed quite reasonable. 

And while it was a bit of a hassle for him, with just one assistant, to remove the old boiler - it was very heavy! - the installation of the new one was fairly quick, and everything was finished within one (long) day. 

There's a lot more space in the boiler room now. This new boiler looks remarkably like the one we had in our house in the UK over twenty-five years ago. And while it still hasn't been VERY cold, we've had chillier mornings and rain:

And the boiler has worked! We have a thermostatic system in the house so the heating only comes on for a couple of hours in the morning, and a couple in the evening (when it's cold enough) and it's done exactly what it should. It's much quieter than the old system, too. Rather surprisingly, when the heating is on it also heats our water, although we didn't expect it to have done that. Most of our water heating is solar, and we have an electric boost that we had been using when the sun wasn't out. There's a gas boost too, but we've hardly needed that, since the days when the sun doesn't come out are usually (though not always) the days when it's chilly enough for the heating to come on.

And if the steamer, the washing machine and the boiler weren't enough, the day after we had decided to replace the boiler, my stick blender stopped working when I was making some ketchup.  We had an excellent one which had worked well for about thirteen years. I was able to use my regular blender for the ketchup, but it was a bit of a nuisance having to decant everything into the large goblet, and then try to get it all out. Three weeks later and there's still a tomato stain on the cutting blades. 

But my main use of the stick blender is for soup, which I make every other week during the cooler months: usually from November until about March or April. Putting that in an ordinary blender means it has to be cooled quite significantly, then usually only half of it will fit even in the bigger goblet... so we decided to buy a new stick blender.  Unlike a decade or so ago, there were several options at a local DIY shop, so we chose a Bosch brand. 

Then I reorganised some cupboards to make space for the extra bits, and put the steamer away (but with easier access than before), so the new stick blender could sit on the work surface. And we bought a plug extension thing so I don't need to keep pulling plugs in and out for these appliances:

The cats, meanwhile, have very much appreciated the house being less chilly than it was before we had the new boiler. Lady Jane loves the radiators: 

And to my astonishment, our bird of paradise plant, which bloomed in October for the first time in eight years, has another bloom that opened out about a week ago:

Even more surprisingly, there is another one which is evidently going to open within the next week or two:

I hope this doesn't mean that it will be 24 years before it blooms again...

And finally, showing the mixed nature of Cyprus weather, where it's sometimes very sunny as well as quite chilly, we usually go for a short walk along the sea-front on Friday mornings, to check our PO Box. One one of those Fridays, we were feeling quite chilled with the wind (despite the sun) so stopped at Cafe Nero for some excellent hot chocolate, made with coconut milk. 

New Year 2024

Christmas Day went well. The weather has been warmer than usual - I don't think it's got down to single digits yet, even overnight. It was about 13 degrees when I woke up, so I went out for a short walk before par-boiling the potatoes (peeled the night before) and putting the Christmas pudding in the steamer. After breakfast we opened our presents, then walked to and from the church service. There were only about twenty people there; but I'm glad we went. 

By 11.30 we were back home and the major juggling act began. I missed my younger son even more than normal at that stage; he used to take over the kitchen entirely for Christmas Day. He is skilled at knowing when to get everything going, with all the food ready at exactly the right time. I find that much more difficult. I made a detailed list to ensure I didn't forget anything, but some of the timings were still a bit off.

However, we made use of our ancient but much-appreciated hostess trolley, which we bought second-hand in the spring of 2019. This rather cumbersome contraption enables quite a lot of different food to be kept hot without overcooking. 

Richard set the table: 

That was not without its own stresses, as one of our cats kept jumping up and disarranging (if that's a word) the cloth and runner. So he had to start over more than once. Eventually I shut Lady Jane in my study. 

Nine of us sat down to eat, ages ranging from 13 to 81, and I think they all had a good time. Once the food was all on the table - after a minor blip when it transpired that we'd forgotten to put out ANY of the four different dishes of vegetables! - I was able to relax. The crackers had the usual paper crowns and tiny silly gifts, some more interesting than others. It also had jokes, most of which I hadn't heard before. It's amazing how many bad Christmas-related jokes there must be. (What kind of photos do Santa's helpers take? Elfies...)

Once the main course had been finished, we cleared away the food and the dishwasher went on for the first time that day. I am so, so thankful for my dishwasher when we entertain. Nobody was really hungry any more, but the desserts came out anyway, and I think everyone found space for something. The Christmas pudding, made a few weeks earlier, turned out very well, as did the entirely dairy-free trifle which I'd made on Christmas Eve. 

I had a feeling something was missing as I sat down, then remembered the mince pies which I had put in the oven after turning it off, to warm them up a bit. 

Then the three teenage girls went to watch some DVDs, our oldest guest went to take a nap, and the remaining five of us played a board game. As we finished our older son called for a video chat; we miss the family a lot, particularly at this time of year, but being able to see them and what they're doing makes it a little easier. Then, although nobody was hungry, other than one of the teenage girls, we got out things for a high tea, and large amounts of food were consumed by all. 

The dishwasher ran for a second time afterwards and we managed to fit all the leftovers in the fridge. Our younger son then called to chat online... our guests departed... and I went up to bed, tired but pleased that all had gone well.

I didn't plan to do any cooking for the next few days; by Thursday, however, we had finished the leftover roast potatoes (reheated) and I'd had enough of turkey for a while, so we froze what remained and I made omelettes with potato wedges, one of my favourite meals that's quick and easy to prepare. There were still plenty of cut-up cold vegetables to go with it. 

By Friday I was feeling the need for getting out of the house for more than just my early morning walks. We didn't need to do any supermarket shopping, but I did want to check the PO Box. So we drove to town, and parked at the marina. Then we walked along the sea front, collected a card and parcel that had arrived, and walked back along one of the other streets. We popped into the book shop but didn't see anything that grabbed us - and it's not as if we're lacking in books. 

I was surprised at how warm it felt - the official temperature was something like 21 degrees but in the sunshine it felt rather higher. So we stopped for smoothies.

On Saturday, when I popped out in the afternoon for some fruit and vegetables that we needed, I was startled to see the shop that used to be a supermarket (and which had many different names over the 16 years we've lived here) is being either knocked down or seriously renovated:

(That's not where I was planning on buying the produce; it's been closed for over a year)

Sunday morning was relaxing; even the cats decided not to bat or chase each other, as they have been prone to do recently. Instead, they slept next to each other in the sunshine:

In the evening we were invited to our friends' home for a New Year's Eve gathering; there were 12 of us for a meal, and one extra who arrived a bit later. We played a few games after eating, and it was all very pleasant. But I'm not a night owl. The older I become, the earlier I seem to need to sleep. By 11pm I was finding it hard to keep my eyes open, and other guests were making a move, so Richard decided to bring me home. I would have stayed until midnight if he had wanted to, but was very thankful. 

Not that there was much chance of sleep, since we knew that, at midnight, there would be a few minutes of very loud fireworks.  We heard them, but happily there didn't seem to be any more and I slept reasonably well until about 6.30am.  It wasn't nearly enough sleep (I really need eight hours every night) and I've felt a bit zombie-like today. But I got done the things I planned to do, and by writing this blog have managed to stay awake until 8.30pm... and hope to be asleep in about half an hour's time.

A new desk, and a tribute to the old one

Short version of this post: my wonderful husband spent three hours putting together a flat-pack desk for me, early last week. This was the result:

For those who like to read my ramblings, here's the longer version:

When we first moved to Cyprus, quarter of a century ago, we bought some furniture inexpensively from the organisation my husband was seconded to. Much of it was quite old and well-used, but also solid and likely to last at least as long as it had already. One of those pieces of furniture was a heavy desk which we put in my study, where I had my computer: 

At some point both the computer and the screen were upgraded by my husband and sons, and we acquired a scanner. The desk stayed in the same place, easily able to hold these, a large keyboard, and whatever books or other random additions I needed: 

When we moved to our current house, sixteen-and-a-half years ago, we discussed whether I might like something smaller. I already had a flat screen and a more compact keyboard by that stage. But I was quite attached to the desk. It had four good-sized drawers and a cupboard on the other side, and I liked the old-fashioned wood look. So some strong people who helped us to move carried it up the stairs to my new, larger study, and there it sat: 

This study had a lot more scope for moving furniture around. That happened several times, leading to, for instance, this: 

And, later, this:

.. which is where it remained since about 2016, facing the door. This is my preferred orientation for the desk. I did move other furniture around, but the desk stayed where it was. 

About a year ago, the desk started to become a bit wobbly. Perhaps all the moving had weakened one of those legs. They are quite small compared to the size of the desk. Having a large cat jumping on and off probably didn't help, either, but the desk, we reckoned, was probably fifty years old. It didn't owe me anything. I wondered whether I might be able to find something similar, with stronger legs.  

I looked at several possible shops online, none of which had desks I liked. Those they had in the shops seemed extortionately priced. I would have shrugged and forgotten about it, until one day I realised the wobbliness was worse. One of the front legs had become detached. 

Creative as ever, Richard found a temporary solution:

This was shortly after I had upgraded my elderly computer and laptop into a newer laptop that could be used with my screen, keyboard, mouse (etc) while not travelling. Richard made me (from scratch) a very nice wooden shelf to raise the screen, and to house the laptop. 

Inevitably there were a lot of wires, as well as the speaker, and a kind of hub thing which enabled the laptop to connect to the screen and other peripherals. Our white cat Alex liked sleeping on the desk, knocking off anything that came in his path. Hence the rough cardboard box, in stark contrast to the  pristine wooden shelf:

We spent a morning, early last summer, looking for possible replacement desks. We tried the Thrift Store, a couple of second-hand furniture shops and several large stores which sold desks of all shapes and sizes. We didn't see anything I really liked. I didn't want a modern streamlined table with movable drawer units, nor a metal desk. Since I had a (mostly) functioning desk, I was only going to replace it if I found one that felt absolutely right. 

Richard wondered whether he could repair the broken leg. It would have meant considerable disruption, but he thought he might possibly do it while I was away last summer. In the event, he was so busy he didn't have a moment to himself, let alone the time needed to find a way to repair it that was going to last, and which would also need to have strengthened the other legs. If one breaks, we realised, it's probably not long before others follow suit. 

So the dictionaries remained in place. Richard said, once or twice, that he should think about repairing the desk, but I was reluctant to go through all the hassle of disconnecting everything and emptying out the drawers and moving the desk...

Then, nearly two weeks ago, the computer refused to connect to the screen. That happened a couple of times before and Richard had shown me a sequence of unplugging wires and re-starting the computer that seemed to work. 

Not this time. And when I tried to follow the wires to their sources, wondering if something had become unplugged, I realised that the hub conversion gadget thing had no lights on. Re-plugging that didn't help. Without it, there was no chance of connecting to the screen. I could use the laptop as a laptop but nothing else, and it looked as though the computer was not even charging...

Richard wasn't home, and I was due to meet my younger son and daughter-in-law online for a crossword-solving session.  Thankfully my son is familiar with the system, and managed to talk me through - on the phone - plugging in the charging cable, and also temporarily enabling the printer so I could print out the crossword they sent me. 

So the solving session happened, and we successfully completed another tricky one. 

Since the hub thing (Richard calls it a 'breakout box', and its official name is 'multi-port adapter') was less than a year old, and did not seem to be working at all, we took it back to Stephanis in the evening. They said they would send it away for repair. It would probably take about a week, they said. 

So I had to use the laptop with its built-in keyboard (which is okay) and touch-pad (which I don't like at all) and its small screen for the next ten days until it was finally acknowledged that the hub/box/adapter was broken, and they supplied a new one. 

BUT...

In the meantime, I was looking on the Superhome Centre website and happened to see a desk which looked ideal. I mentioned it tentatively to Richard, as I'm always reluctant to replace things that aren't totally broken. He said he thought I should get it. We went to have a look, and made an order, and a couple of days later went - in our van - to collect it. 

Richard hoped it might be in three separate pieces (two sides and a top) rather than all put together as he thought it could be rather heavy to get upstairs. What we had not expected was a single flatpack box, reminiscent of Ikea, but with considerably more parts. The advantage of that was that we could carry it up in several trips. The disadvantage was that it was evidently going to need a significant amount of time to put together. 

The instructions had no words after the first page, and suggested that it would take two hours for two people to put together:

I removed the drawers from the old desk, while Richard disconnected and removed the wires and peripheral computer bits and pieces. Then we managed to lift the old desk into the living room, and ran the Roomba in the space underneath, where it hadn't been able to get before. 

He then used the old desk as a workbench to start constructing the new one:

There wasn't anything I could do to assist in the actual construction, but I did empty out the two large bags of screws, dowels and other bits of metal and plastic, and sorted them:

I then passed over each item as needed. I didn't begin to understand the pictorial 'instructions', but Richard had no difficulty. This, I realised, is why building Lego models from instructions is an important life skill. Freestyle building is more creative, but for something as complex as this desk, I wanted it to be built as designed by the manufacturer rather than a creative model that might be more interesting, but would probably be less useful.

I did assist about three times, holding things that needed to be screwed in place, and moving completed parts out of the way. But I'm not sure that having a second competent pictorial-instruction-follower would have made it much quicker.  It took about three hours in all. I felt a bit guilty: had I known it would be this complex, I wouldn't ever have mentioned it. 

However, the resulting desk is exactly right. It's not as deep as the old one, and the drawers are, therefore, smaller. I was able to get rid of some ancient paperwork and other stuff that was unneeded, and they are much better organised. 

This all happened a week before we were able to pick up the new hub/adapter thing, so I had to use my laptop without the add-on peripherals. But it gave Richard a chance to think how to get the wires reasonably neatly stored so that (1) they weren't on the desk getting in my way, or pushed over by cats (2) they weren't on the floor (where the Roomba might try to eat them) and (3) they weren't dangling at the back, where the cats would want to play with them, and pull things off the desk. 

One of the features of the desk is that instead of having four drawers on the left, there are three, with a shelf at the top. So Richard drilled a few neat holes in the back. My hubs, hard drives and random essential wires are able to be housed there, out of sight, and yet not too difficult to access if needed:

Alex's cardboard box was looking very tatty, but he still likes it, so I covered it with some sticky-backed paper, and put it on the scanner rather than the desk. He's not as keen on it as he was, but in this rather chilly time of year he prefers to sleep on a beanbag anyway.

And the old desk...? 

Some teenage friends have been doing some outside painting for us. They came the morning after Richard built the desk, and were happy to help us move the old one down, prior to taking it to the dump. Our indoor cat, Lady Jane, has twice raced between our legs as we come in the front door, and down the stairs to the desk. She didn't want to escape, just to smell it and roll around underneath. Thankfully she was easily bribed indoors again. She hasn't tried to get out for a long time but evidently saw the desk from the upstairs balcony, and recognised it. 

Since we don't want her getting out - she has no road sense - we were thinking about getting it to the dump, when another young friend said he had a use for it, as a kind of outdoor work bench (under shelter) with different, taller legs that he will construct. I had felt a little sad about abandoning the desk entirely, so am very pleased that it will still be useful. 

April, and restrictions ease in Cyprus

So it's over two years since the pandemic started. Case numbers are still fairly high in Cyprus, given that the population is not much more than a million. But restrictions are easing, as they have in many other Western countries in the past couple of months. We still have to wear masks in shops and other indoor public spaces, but safe passes haven't had to be shown in supermarkets or other grocery shops for a couple of weeks, and as of Monday they won't need to be shown anywhere. 

I mentioned in my last post that March had turned chilly, as often happens during the first week of March. I didn't expect that it would continue to be decidedly on the cool side for Cyprus. We've had to have our gas tank refilled at least three times this winter - it was only once a year ago. The central heating was coming on, if only for half an hour or so, every day until the end of the month. 

We realised how unusual that was the day after the clocks went forward (the last Sunday of March); we didn't change the central heating timer clock, and realised it had not previously occurred to us that we might need to. Never before has the heating come on during the daylight savings/summer time period.

I was still wearing several layers of clothes, using a microwave wheat bag every night, and still using our double thickness of duvet (13 togs and 4.5 togs together). Although I change the sheets and pillowcases every week, I only change the duvet cover once a fortnight - and both times, during March, I pondered whether to move to just the 13 tog duvet, and quickly decided against it. It's only in the past week that it started to feel over-warm, and today I put away the 4.5 tog duvet. At some point we'll have a couple of weeks when we just need that, then I'll wash them both and pack them away for the summer.

So it was no surprise to learn that March was the coldest ever for Larnaka (and other parts of the island). 

I took very few photos. I didn't even take one of yellow foliage - perhaps it took longer to appear. I did take this photo, however, which is mostly yellow, about four weeks ago:

A crate of lemons, brought to us by a friend who had been employed to cut down an old lemon tree that was growing too close to someone's house. That wasn't all of them - we took maybe 25% of the lemons we were offered.  I don't know how many kilograms there were, but I spent a fair bit of time grating skin to freeze zest, juicing them - to freeze, or use.  

I've frozen two biggish boxes of lemon 'cubes' to use when I need just a tablespoon of the juice in the months when lemons are more difficult to get hold of, and several small boxes with 100ml each of lemon juice to use in various recipes that need more than a tablespoon. I've also frozen a couple of boxes of lemon slices, to use in water, or on salmon.  And during many of those chilly evenings we drank hot lemon and honey. 

I had to throw out maybe three or four that started to go mouldy, but I kept the crate outside, and the colder weather meant that most of them kept very well. I haven't used them all, even now. But the ones that remain are very small and getting a bit dried out.

As usual, I walked three times a week with my friend Sheila, along part of the Salt Lake trail. I say 'as usual' but for a couple of weeks in January I didn't walk due to having Covid, and for a couple of weeks in February she didn't walk, due to isolating and then having Covid herself. But in March we were both fine, and although we sometimes had to wrap up extra-warm, with woolly hats and scarves, it was good to get out first thing. 

In addition to being cold, there was a fair amount of rain, so that the Salt Lake was about as full as it ever gets: 

The picture doesn't really show it well, but usually there are several metres more of 'beach' before the water starts.

Flamingoes, of course, have been much in evidence, though never close enough for good pictures:

My freesias came out, over a week later than their usual date, and didn't last long, but they were pretty for a few days:

At the end of the month, I popped around the corner to buy something from 'Kritikos', our convenient supermarket which was previously 'Savemore', and before that 'Micro', and before that 'Orphanides Express', and before that 'Kleitos'.  Yes, all those different supermarkets in the not-quite-sixteen years since we moved to this house (how can it possibly be sixteen...?)

And, like all its predecessors, it had closed. Abruptly, with no warning. 

I wonder what its next incarnation will be... or whether it just isn't commercially viable to have a supermarket in a residential area like this one. 

I don't even take as many photos of the cats as I used to. Alexander and Lady Jane are eight years old now, and Alex, at least, is just starting to slow down a little. He, like me, seems quite sensitive to both extremes of weather; he doesn't like it being cold, but he doesn't like heat either. Here he is, worn out after being outside in the unexpected warmth of April (and it was VERY hot for a couple of days - up to 27 degrees, with a dust storm from the Sahara)

Jane, however, likes the heat so much that even in July and August she pointedly departs from any room where the air conditioning is turned on. She has spent much of the winter curled up in a beanbag right against a radiator. And even in early April, when I was, at last, shedding a layer or two, she was clearly hinting that she wanted the heating on again:

Yes, Jane is such an unusual cat that she actually sleeps in a bed that is intended for cats! 

The First Week of December

 An anonymous comment on this blog reminded me that I had not written here for some time. I was a little shocked to realise that it has been almost three months. Not that a great deal has happened: for October and November in Cyprus in general, just browse the archives for those months, with a little masking and distancing thrown into the mix. 

We were delighted to be able to host two sets of visitors, although, sadly, others had to cancel. But in general, life has continued its normal daily round, as far as I'm concerned. And now we're in Advent: a week into December and already past the second Sunday of Advent, since the first one was on November 28th. 

Christmas preparations always begin with the Christmas cake; this year I made it on October 31st, and then put it in an airtight container to mature.  I have remembered to 'feed' it with a little brandy once, and will probably do so again, but I tend to forget about it until the week before Christmas, when I ice it. 

Other preparations began slightly before I was expecting them to, when we were on a hunt for Christmas cards on the last Friday of November. They weren't yet available in the UK on our visit there in August, and I've never had much success in finding them here. We didn't find cards but we did see some rather nice looking poinsettias at the size we wanted, for a good price: 

I mentioned on Facebook that I couldn't find cards, and a local friend let me know about two shops that sell them locally. It turned out to be much easier than I thought to find them. 

Two days later, November 28th, was Advent Sunday. Something else we had found in one of the shops that sadly lacked Christmas cards was a wreath that was decidedly less tacky than most of what that shop had to offer. It was probably intended as a door wreath, but I realised it would be just right for a candle.  So I put it up and we lit our first candle:

I also made some mincemeat, which I usually do every other year. It doesn't take long and is very simple - if anyone's interested, here's our family recipe for mincemeat, passed down at least two generations so far. The original one was for twice as much, and in pounds rather than grams... and the annotation at the end said it makes 'an enormous lot'.  Mine makes a much more conservative 2kg, which is usually plenty for us for two years. I keep the extra kilogram in the fridge.

The following day, November 29th, I went to the shops mentioned above and found a good selection of Christmas cards. Last year we only sent about eight, to close family members, as the postal system was so bad. This year it's better - we hope - and so we're back to sending about thirty. Far fewer than we sent ten years ago, but many people have stopped sending them altogether, and we've lost touch with some folk. 

We had agreed to host some Advent discussion groups starting on December 1st, so decided to do our annual tree-decorating (with help from young friends) on the last day of November. Outrageously early, as one friend commented on a Facebook post I made, and yes, that's true. But if not at the start of Advent, when...? Christmas Eve is too late, in my view, and any date between Dec 1st and Dec 23rd entirely arbitrary. Besides, I like seeing our tree and Nativity figures. 

The cats are now middle-aged, but it didn't stop them attacking the tree about ten minutes after it was up: 

'Who, me?'  

His sister had raced through to the dining room and was looking entirely innocent although it was almost certainly her fault. 

The Advent discussion group for our church on Wednesday evening, a mixture of in-house and Zoom, was small but enjoyable - hopefully more will join for other discussions. 

On Saturday I joined the Christingle-making group at the church, for the first time. There were eight of us, and it took about an hour to produce over sixty Christingles. We all cleaned the oranges first (harvested from another church member's garden), and cut up foil. Then it turned into a production line. My role was to attach the red tape around the oranges. I don't know what tape it was, but it stuck beautifully. 

On Sunday, in addition to preparing soup, bread and a dessert for our friends who come over every other week, and lunch for the two of us, I made my first batch of mince pies:

We went, with our friends, to the Christingle service in the evening. 

We're fairly used to having chairs in groups of two, wearing masks, having our safe-passes checked etc, but I don't suppose I'll ever like it. It was a pleasant service, starting with a local choir singing (outside). Richard ensured it all worked, so that the choir could hear the music played back, and the congregation could hear the choir.  He also set up the livestream which, if you're interested, is here: 

(The actual service starts about 24 minutes into the stream). 

We lit our second Advent candle on Sunday after we returned from the service with our friends and ate our meal a bit later than usual. 

On Monday morning this week I went to the local Post Office to buy stamps, having written the cards in odd moments over the weekend, and plan to post them all tomorrow.

In the afternoon the local reading group met to discuss a couple of books, and to eat some shared Christmas goodies including more mince pies. 

Today I started ordering presents for the family in the UK... 

And we're only at the end of the first week of December. 

Lady Jane, Cat Grass and Birds...

Lady Jane Grey, our smaller cat, has lived with us for over four years now. She moved into our household when our younger son Tim moved back to the UK, and although it took her a few weeks to adjust - and maybe a year to be fully integrated, she and Alexander the Great are now good buddies - typical siblings, in fact. Sometimes getting alone well, sometimes looking out for each other, sometimes play-fighting and scampering all over the house.

But despite being originally from the same litter, they are very different in personality. Alex is placid, on the whole, quite demanding when he wants attention, and generally interested in people. Alex goes outside when he wants to during the daytime, although we keep him in at night. But, as with most cats, he spends a lot of his time asleep, oblivious to his surroundings. 

Jane is a lot more skittish. She's around half Alex's weight, and an excellent jumper. She is quite picky about who she gives her affection to; it's taken her four years to accept Richard properly, although she does now settle on him sometimes. She's nervous of visitors, other than those she has known for years, and she's terrified of workmen of any kind.  She sleeps, but usually remains very alert. 

Jane doesn't go out at all; two years living in a flat, with nowhere to go outside, means that she hasn't developed any road sense. And the few times she has managed to get out, she's been terrified; so much so that she's mostly entirely happy to stay inside. 

However, that means that her diet is limited to the cat food we give her: wet food at lunchtime, dry food available all day. The first time we wondered whether she needed something extra was three-and-a-half years ago, when she started nibbling bits out of a bouquet I had been given. We don't often have flowers, but the same thing has happened any time I'm given any - she sniffs around carefully, then finds something which takes her fancy, and starts chewing.

Around the time this happened in the summer, I discovered that it was possible to buy grass seeds specially intended for cats. The grass grows quickly, and provides a few extra vitamins and minerals.  I discovered some on Amazon, and since I was ordering something else anyway, I added a pack of seeds to the order. 

I planted some of them in a little pot, as directed, and within about five days they had grown to a height of around five or six centimetres.  I put them on the table in the living room, wondering if - as is typical for cats - she would entirely ignore them. 

But she was immediately drawn to them: 

She was so enthusiastic that I wondered if she was going to eat the entire pot's worth of grass. But instead she just gently nibbled the ends, until each stem was at a length of about 2cm:

They grew a bit more overnight, and the following morning she repeated the process.  After a couple of days I planted another pot, and when those seeds had grown to a reasonable amount, I started alternating them indoors, so that they had more of a chance to grow. When I open the kitchen doors in the morning, Jane goes and checks her grass, and usually has a quick munch. Then she takes no notice of them for the rest of the day.

Alexander, meanwhile, doesn't even seem to have noticed that they are there. But he's never been interested in bouquets, either. 

I don't know if Jane is now feeling fitter and healthier, or if she feels the need of more protein in her diet, to balance the green stuff, but she's started another new habit within the last few months. And we really don't like this one at all.

The one place where she can get outside into the sunshine is a biggish balcony area outside our bedroom, where Richard sits in the morning to eat his breakfast. Tbe cats usually join him, and about six months ago we used an old dust sheet with a ladder that's up there to make them a kind of den or playhouse. And they did play in it, batting each other through the cloth, for the first few weeks. 

But it grew hotter, and Alex mostly just flopped when he was outside, rather than joining in with anything. Jane, who likes the weather to be very hot (she refuses to stay in a room with air conditioning on) stayed indoors during most of the summer months, as it was cooler outside on the balcony, first thing. 

However, in the past few weeks, she has taken to hiding under this den. When cats can't see out, they assume they cannot be seen.  Nobody would guess there was a grey-and-white cat sitting under that dustsheet (which was a curtain originally), after all: 

It took us a while to realise that she wasn't just meditating, or needing time to herself when she sits up there, sometimes for hours. Instead, she was waiting for a bird to land on the balcony. There seem to be birds nesting in part of our roof, and they often fly overhead.  Alex has occasionally caught one, and brought it into the house fluttering around, much to my horror.  Jane, until this summer, had rarely caught anything bigger than a lizard. 

But she is more subtle than her brother. She seems to know that we don't want her chasing birds around the house. And it all happens when we're not there, so it's still speculation, though it's not at all Alex's style. The first time I found a little pile of feathers at the end of the ladder, I was a bit surprised, but swept them up (not an easy thing to do!) and thought no more about it.

Until it happened a second time.  And a third time:

It's not entirely obvious from the photo, but there are yet more tiny feathers in a pile at the end of the ladder. Jane, at six years old, has turned into a hunter. It doesn't seem to have done her any harm; indeed she's looking healthier than ever, and also a bit fatter.  I thought at first that she was fluffing her fur out to keep warm, in this chilly (to her) 25 degree temperature we now have in the house.  But I wonder if the combination of cat grass and fresh birds is giving her the nutrition she actually needs.

Short of keeping her inside the house all the time, not allowing her even on the balcony (which would be very stressful for her), I don't see any way of stopping it.  At least she's not bringing them into the house.