This one's called Lily.

However, Rosie's Emma's favourite (the one with the all black nose I didn't manage to take a photo of).

We're in what could be called a quandary.

Greetings from Social Circle Dental,

We would like to wish Blake a Happy Birthday!

Sincerely,
Dr. Jones and Staff.

(This message is waiting in my Inbox this morning)

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Off to look at those 3 kittens this morning.

One is enough, I am told by The Boss.

More Cat Stuff

Lots of people are saying: no, no, no ... you don't adopt one kitten - you adopt TWO.

Really?

My wife's in Cambridge today & so I've sent her to sniff out some books at Heffer's. Anything by Carol Watts, anything new and interesting by Prynne. She's just called to say that I'm out of luck. Not a sausage.

Now I'm wondering where you'd go in Cambridge - that hotbed of UK alternative poetics - to buy your books? In my mind's eye, shelves packed with Salt volumes, Andrea Brady, John Wilkinson, The Prynne ... .

I mean to say ...

This will cheer you all up. I've just been sent this picture of a new litter.

Might one of these be The One?

I'll keep you posted.

I've just wasted two and half hours in front of the television watching the much-hyped Man. U-Barcelona match. 

I don't watch football, as a rule* - and when I do I realize why. A sort of guilty, empty feeling afterwards. Couldn't I have used the time better? 

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(*Maradonna handing the ball into the net in the World Cup and not having the decency to own up made me realize that football as a 'sport' had lost its relationship with 'sporting' behaviour. Careerism, greed and corporate interests were the new names of the game). 

Just saw Griff Rhys Jones leaping about in a field of daffodils on BBC 2 - producer's logic: posh sounding chap with double-barrelled name who used to present programme about saving English heritage sites equals the right kind of chap to front Poetry Week. 

Yes, it's as dismal as that. 

Nation's Favourite Poets

There's a vote going on, it seems. Here are a list of ten currently writing British/Irish poets that I enjoy reading & re-reading. In no particular order:

1. Tom Raworth

2. Martin Corless-Smith

3. Iain Sinclair

4. John James

5. Lee Harwood

6. Out To Lunch (aka Ben Watson)

7. Tim Atkins

8. Sean Bonney

9. Maggie O'Sullivan

10. J.H. Prynne

and I could list another ten - but these are the names that pop into my head before I go downstairs and start cooking.

And how silly to nominate a 'favourite'. We've left the playground - or have we?

Thoughts, anyone?

I was reading the dictionary. I thought it was a poem about everything.

(heard this the other day on the radio - Jack Dee being interviewed, quoting the U.S. comedian Steve Wright)

Little Cat Diary IV

Sad news. This morning Potiron was flopping sideways - one look at him told you that life was ebbing away. Even to stand up was too much of an effort. Little by little he'd sink down exhausted. I'll spare you the list of things that we discovered were wrong. 

So, it's 3.35pm and the vet has done what vets do when there's nothing else to do.

We're all very sad. 

At the back of my mind are the questions i) how could anyone pass on a kitten to two little girls in this state? ii) how could the previous vet not have identified just how sick he was? iii) how could we have been stupid enough not to put two and two together earlier?

But what's the point in recriminations? We tried our best to make him happy. 

Little Cat Diary III

Not a great start. We take Potiron to the vet & it's clear that this is one sick little kitten. 

The vet is terrific - spells out the chances, gives clear instructions and her personal phone number.

The next 36 hours or so are going to be decisive.