A Metrosexual Cat.

Hello Peeps,

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What a fine day this is.

Today, my painters, who have been working here for nearly a month, will be completely FINISHED!

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Yeaaaaaaah!!

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No more of that scary Nitromors stuff, no more dust from sanding down the stripped wood, no more eye watering paint smells, and no more living in a bedroom all the time.

How wonderful.

I can finally clean up the muck, put everything back in it’s proper and relax

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We can settle down and take it easy for a few days.

The only thing we will need to get stressed about then, is finding the right Christmas presents, and buying them before the last minute rush starts up.

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I love Christmas.

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I can remember years ago  when I was very small and I spent some time rooting about in our flat like a tiny FBI agent.

This was only possible because because my mother had gone out somewhere and left me all alone.

I was a curious child and did that sort of thing when the mood took me.

That particular search took place sometime in the summer.

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I eventually dug about inside my mother’s wardrobe and found a box wrapped up in some material.

It contained a middle-sized doll with horrible shiny gold hair and stupid blinky eyes.

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I just wrapped it back up, without really thinking about it, before continuing on with my nosiness and general sneaking around in private places.

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Eventually the seasons moved on and we got near to Christmas time.

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We children began to turn our thoughts to what presents we hoped to be given.

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In those days we were told to write to Santa on a small sheet of paper, telling him what we wanted for Christmas, before putting it into the fireplace, just under the chimney, and letting it go.

If it went off up the chimney then Santa would receive it, but sometimes it fell into the flames and got burned up.

If that happened then we were told we had to behave much better or he would bring us nothing.

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My message went up the chimney on the first try so I was happy and quite convinced I would get my request granted.

As I was not a very girly girl, I had decided that I wanted a cowboy holster with guns on it, the same as my brother did.

I was really looking forward wearing it!

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Christmas morning was exciting and we children rushed to empty our stockings, which had been hung on the fireplace.

Once we had emptied them of our little bits and pieces we were given our big presents.

My brother got his first and he was thrilled with his holster and two guns, plus a matching cowboy hat.  It was red and white with some fringing on it.

He also got a fort and some proper little soldiers to go with it.

Just what I wanted!

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Then I opened my first present, only to find that it was that bloody awful doll from inside my mother’s wardrobe.

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Even worse, when I opened my other present, it was a bloody pram, to go with the nasty bloody doll.

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I was furious.

When nobody was watching I scribbled all over doll and all over the pram, using the little packet of crayons that I had found in my Christmas stocking.

Then they were furious and I got well smacked for doing it.

But I felt pleased.

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It all turned out fine though.

Eventually that pram provided me with many happy hours of play

I would put the doll’s bonnet on our tomcat ‘Whiskey’, tying the ribbons under his chin in a nice bow, before wrapping him tightly in the pram blenket.

He would then be fed milk using the doll’s bottle with the teat on, after which I would push him around the streets while people admired my ‘baby’.

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Obviously he must have been in touch with his female side.

A sort of metrosexual cat.

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LOL

J.

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