Searching for listening devices

It was freezing cold this afternoon, but we were outside all the same. (Puflet saw March of the Penguins on Saturday - I think it inspired him) . Anyway, we turned over another rock and there ... yes ... was an EAR.

Well, an earwig, anyway.

'Huh', muttered Puflet. 'I bet it's him who eats holes in my dahlias. But look at those antennae! A surveillance device if ever I saw one!'

But before the earwig could protest his innocence, Puflet had noticed something else.

There, half buried in the compost, was a bit of cable leading to a spot under the next rock ...

Illustration Friday - Glamour

Glamour? Wish I 'ad some ... must have dropped it in the street somewhere ... fnah fnah ...

Well, look what we found!

Puflet turned over the first rock - and just look what was underneath! Bugs! Yes, it had been bugged!

They weren't very pleased, either, because we'd woken them up during the day when they had been doing nightshift. More specifically, a friend of theirs, a stag beetle, had been having a stag night, and these fellers had been detailed to attend. Eventually they calmed down, though, and introduced themselves as Silbert, Jethro and Ratz. Then they went back to sleep.

Still no sign of Mervyn.

Then we turned over the next rock, and inspected it for listening devices ... and do you think we found any ...?

Musings from Puflet Palace

Musings from Puflet Palace

Well? Did you notice that there wasn't a post yesterday, even though we were poised on the brink of a momentous revelation? There was SOMETHING UP WITH BLOGSPOT, and it wouldn't let me publish the latest information - very suspicious, don't you think?

There has been some consternation at the palace recently, following the discovery of high-tech listening equipment in a rock in a park in Moscow. There are rocks in the front garden here. They're specifically for Puflet, because Lundy Island, which is where puffins come from, is composed mainly of rock and they make him feel at home. When I say 'rock' I mean 'stone-like things, but bigger'; not seaside rock - 'disgusting pink tooth-rotting stuff with lettering in'.

So Puflet was concerned that somebody might be listening to comings-and- goings at the palace. That was worrying enough, but then Mervyn went missing. Listening devices AND a kidnapping! So we all went out to investigate.

We turned over the first rock, and inspected it for listening devices ... and you'll never guess what we found ...

Puflet Politics

'Oaten? Oh Dear', squawks Puflet. 'Still don't understand all this politics stuff, but I don't think he does either. I think he didn't understand the term 'liberal party' and took it to mean three in a bed. And he was the Home Affairs spokesman, after all! Maybe he didn't quite appreciate what was meant by 'home affairs', exactly, and thought he'd better have a couple of affairs before speaking about them in front of all those people in the House of Commons (most of whom know all about affairs). Otherwise they'd just laugh at him, wouldn't they?'

Love P xxx

Illustration Friday - CATS

I think this image speaks for itself ...

Herbert, one of the other hamsters who lives here, finds this illustration frightening, but this is what she typed (yes, she ... it's a long story) by running over the keyboard:

njky80yjn...............ioreu43 fhq4ju'4'hhiunmhu7778/n'####

I don't think I can top that, so I'll sign off now!

CAS xxxxxxxxx

Display Policy in Britain's Galleries (1)

Did you know that only 25% of Britain's art treasures are on show to the public at any one time? That's because Britain's art galleries insist on displaying so much empty space. Here are some exhibitions I've been to recently:

Display Policy in Britain's Galleries (2)

In the good old days, they really knew how to display their art ...

Puflet's feeling literary...

Puflet, as you may be aware, is very keen on gardening.

'At this time of year, though, it's not too good because most things are dead, or frosted all over and that sort of thing. So you sit in an armchair and think about things like garden design for the coming year. But I've got fed up with those book which claim to be designs for 'small gardens'. Yes, they are small compared with the Norfolk Broads, or Wiltshire. So my book will be aimed specifically at gardeners whose plots are no bigger than the book itself. Though, to compromise, I will make sure that it would go in the 'outsize books' section of your local library. I did once do a course in Graphic Design, after all. And there weren't many sea birds in Central London at the time, I can tell you!

The other book I intend to produce is based on Lynne Truss's book 'Talk to the Hand (cos the face ain't listening)' My book is called 'Talk to the Plant (because that almost certainly is)' It is intended as a guide to the quirky charm of everyday life, and is subtitled ' Six good reasons why you should be out there in your garden'.

Lots of love for now,

P xxx

Musings from Puflet Palace

A Palace piece for Illustration Friday, and the theme is 'E is for...' Eggbert, who is the pig in this illustration for the nursery rhyme 'To market, to market to buy a fat pig ...' Eggbert, as you can see, doesn't want to go. That's because he's thinking of starting a blog all of his own, called Hogsblog. It may even end up as a link to this one!

This is a linocut I did EVER SUCH a long time ago. I was looking through 'My Pictures' and came across it, and it did seem to me to be a bit like another view, another time, of the scene below.

By the way, I'm very tired, and I've put my cup of tea down somewhere. Actually, I've lost it; hope I find it again before it gets cold, and I hope that nobody's swimming in it.

CAS

This is a piece for Illustration Friday, on the theme of the sea ...

Puflet's views on Antisocial Neighbours

Well, the Government is pretending to have some initiative again.

My next door neighbour allows GROUND ELDER to flower, set seed and take over the Universe. Now that's what I call anti-social behaviour. Sometimes I sneak out on moonlit summer nights and remove the flowers before they become minor triffids. It doesn't affect him cos for he spends much of his time on Planet Zog.

These neighbours that Tony Blair is concerned about, though, saying that they should be banned from their own homes... maybe Gordon Brown's upset him (possibly by planting bindweed in his herbaceous border). Other people's neighbours, at least disruptive ones, are to be banned from their own homes. This doesn't seem to me to be a very good idea, because then they'll have to move into their neighbours' houses, which would be even more disruptive than just having them playing loud music and banging dustbin lids outside.

Anyway, I thought you might like to see some of the neighbours in Cloud Cuckoo Land. Would you believe they built the place themselves?



That's all for now ...

Love P xxx

Arguments at the Palace - more politics!

Puflet can't understand the media and parliamentary persecution of Charles Kennedy: 'You only have to listen to Today in Parliament to realise that they're all completely s***faced! All of them! And as for journalists ... well ... talk about world view influenced by the bottom of a whisky bottle, never mind rosy tinted spectacles. Let he who is without sin an' all that ...'

Mervyn disagrees. 'They're all perfectly shober', he insists. 'Sherfectly, sherfectly pober. An' did I remember to tell you? They're all my besht matesh. Hic!'

The discussion ended here when Mervyn collapsed into one of his characteristic drunken heaps.

Musings from Puflet Palace

Harumph! Off to write reports ...

Unfortunately you have to be polite and diplomatic. None of the 'Gertrude applies herself enthusiastically to her painting - and she ought to stick there' or 'Any coincidence between Fanny's productions and what is commonly described as 'art' is purely fortuitous' or 'When marking Nora's turds we noticed that ...'

And you, as report writer, are requested to give advice. You are supposed to be polite there, too.

Right, 'nuff said.

CAS

This is Filkins. He is a Russian hamster - a winter white, to be precise, though the fact that he isn't living in Siberia means that he does not need to go white in winter. This is because there is a general lack of snow in his cage.

He is about 3" long from nose to (very short) tail. But his toenails need cutting - AND HE DOESN'T LIKE HAVING THEM CUT!!! You'd be impressed at the range of swear words he knows, how sharp his teeth are and how much he can WRIGGLE for such a rotund creature. Oh, and he can pull really manic faces. In the end I made a little harness for him. He bit into it savagely, but I managed to cut some of the offending talons, but not the really long ones which are preventing him from walking properly. You're trying to strike a balance between removing the excess nail growth, and removing one of his limbs. He doesn't seem to realise what a delicate operation this is ...

I'm going to leave it for a few days, and hope he forgets today's experience.

CAS

More Puflet Politics

I know I'm only a small water bird, and although I have an intimate knowledge of the biology of sand eels I can't pretend to understand much else.

However, I was listening to Radio 4 recently, and they said that the Government are concerned about the Child Support Agency. I always knew that eggs were a better bet ... but to get to the point ... they were talking about tagging parents who don't pay for their children. The Child Support Agency, that is, not Radio 4, who are much too busy.

This seems to me to be a really good idea. They could get a satellite navigation system to view them all, which would be very entertaining for the staff at the CSA. And they could track these wily, mendacious, abdicating parents as they spend everything on drink and drugs (not one penny of their ill-gotten gains went to their starving families. The swine.) And then, by observing the habitual haunts of these characters, they could work out where to buy the best skunk etc (strong cannabis, that is, not the black and white smelly mammal). Which would be a really useful thing to do!

What I don't understand, though, is how anybody thinks that this will make these people give any more money to the people they're supposed to be giving money to. Can someone explain?

Love P xxx

Here are some of the dogs who came to Christmas dinner. If you look carefully, you might be able to spot the single solitary poodle.

P xxx

Musings from Puflet Palace

Musings from Puflet Palace

Well, the dogs that Mervyn mentioned will be arriving soon. There were actually only four of them, but in a confined space this always seems a lot more. You know the kind of thing ... 'Mummy, is five a lot?' 'Well it is if you're talking about elephants in your living room'...
The space was even more confined because there were so many people for Christmas dinner - 19 in all - including most of the immediate family plus spouses and offspring. Though any mealtime when we were all living at home seemed like the feeding of the 5,000. Maybe that's why we had sardines on toast so often.

And then, a couple of days ago, we went to see 'The Producers'. Now, I haven't seen the original version of this masterpiece, but the central premise, that a couple of producers make a movie that is an intentional flop in order to pocket the sponsorship money, seemed to be mirrored in some respects by the movie itself. And I don't mean their wonderful 'Springtime for Hitler'! It was Mel Brooks' first film (apparently it was due to Peter Sellers, who loved it, that critics took a serious look at it). One of the producers starts off as an accountant, and a choreographed scene in which the accounting machines are a crucial part of the rhythm section features in the early part of the film. Later, the little old ladies (of whom there were hundreds) with their zimmer frames provide a charming routine. The pigeons in their loft make their contribution, too. All of which seems to me to be just as unlikely material for a Broadway Hit as the goose-stepping dancing Hitlers.

And after all, it was a Broadway Hit about an ostensible Broadway Flop - and sends up showbiz as much as it sends up the Third Reich!

CAS