<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-588353684797693828</id><updated>2011-12-04T18:56:52.935+08:00</updated><category term='holiday'/><category term='magpies'/><category term='Germany'/><title type='text'>Saturday's Child</title><subtitle type='html'>Thoughts and ideas about relationships, family, friends, children and people generally. Might also include thoughts about any and all of God's creatures, domesticated and wild.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katsaturday.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/588353684797693828/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katsaturday.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05522856517333725794</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SG38y29gYNI/AAAAAAAAF5Q/Qco45DYQID4/S220/Kathryn.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>22</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-588353684797693828.post-2070715984628359508</id><published>2011-10-31T12:52:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-31T12:58:00.484+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Back to Blogging</title><content type='html'>It is so long since I posted on my Blog!&lt;br /&gt;I am doing a course at work on 10 Things to do with new technology and Blogging is one of them so I thought I'd better get back to Blogging!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The big news in the last few days has been &lt;br /&gt;1. CHOGM being held in Perth, Western Australia. (Commonwealth Heads of Government Meeting).&lt;br /&gt;2. The visit to Perth by Queen Elizabeth II and Prince Phillip (The Queen opened CHOGM)&lt;br /&gt;3. And of course the BIG news, the grounding of the Qantas fleet of planes, leaving thousands of passengers stranded all over the world.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/588353684797693828-2070715984628359508?l=katsaturday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katsaturday.blogspot.com/feeds/2070715984628359508/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=588353684797693828&amp;postID=2070715984628359508' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/588353684797693828/posts/default/2070715984628359508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/588353684797693828/posts/default/2070715984628359508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katsaturday.blogspot.com/2011/10/back-to-blogging.html' title='Back to Blogging'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05522856517333725794</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SG38y29gYNI/AAAAAAAAF5Q/Qco45DYQID4/S220/Kathryn.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-588353684797693828.post-7188650419768605558</id><published>2010-01-29T10:10:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-29T10:21:47.208+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The big red box</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/S2JFYPbZMfI/AAAAAAAAJc8/8zvVxLhDksM/s1600-h/DSC04874.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/S2JFYPbZMfI/AAAAAAAAJc8/8zvVxLhDksM/s200/DSC04874.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431980383322845682" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/S2JEWNVPZeI/AAAAAAAAJc0/tlSkLUBeK6w/s1600-h/DSC04871.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/S2JEWNVPZeI/AAAAAAAAJc0/tlSkLUBeK6w/s200/DSC04871.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431979248888800738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is the big red box which featured in my previous Blog. It is being opened by my grand-daughters, Ella, Violet &amp; Molly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the content of it was - a Sylvanian families Hotel, which was a huge hit with the children.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/588353684797693828-7188650419768605558?l=katsaturday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katsaturday.blogspot.com/feeds/7188650419768605558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=588353684797693828&amp;postID=7188650419768605558' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/588353684797693828/posts/default/7188650419768605558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/588353684797693828/posts/default/7188650419768605558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katsaturday.blogspot.com/2010/01/big-red-box.html' title='The big red box'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05522856517333725794</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SG38y29gYNI/AAAAAAAAF5Q/Qco45DYQID4/S220/Kathryn.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/S2JFYPbZMfI/AAAAAAAAJc8/8zvVxLhDksM/s72-c/DSC04874.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-588353684797693828.post-7469464366374159288</id><published>2010-01-10T20:25:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-10T20:36:56.280+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Time is Passing</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/S0nJyWS1GYI/AAAAAAAAJVM/XH7EeAgV8HM/s1600-h/DSC04869.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/S0nJyWS1GYI/AAAAAAAAJVM/XH7EeAgV8HM/s200/DSC04869.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425089092959672706" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another Christmas has been and gone. We've eaten all the turkey, ham, Christmas Cake, Christmas pudding, mince pies and had our fill. We've exchanged gifts and cards with family and friends, we've sung Carols, we've laughed and cried, we've hugged and kissed, and we have thanked God again for His wonderful Son, whose birthday we have celebrated.&lt;br /&gt;Now it is 2010, another year ahead of us. Let us make it a better year for all.&lt;br /&gt;I am not making any real 'resolutions' this year. I just want to be a better person, to not waste too much time on unnecessary things and to do as much good as I am able.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/588353684797693828-7469464366374159288?l=katsaturday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katsaturday.blogspot.com/feeds/7469464366374159288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=588353684797693828&amp;postID=7469464366374159288' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/588353684797693828/posts/default/7469464366374159288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/588353684797693828/posts/default/7469464366374159288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katsaturday.blogspot.com/2010/01/time-is-passing.html' title='Time is Passing'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05522856517333725794</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SG38y29gYNI/AAAAAAAAF5Q/Qco45DYQID4/S220/Kathryn.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/S0nJyWS1GYI/AAAAAAAAJVM/XH7EeAgV8HM/s72-c/DSC04869.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-588353684797693828.post-2987555420581663313</id><published>2009-10-27T21:19:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-27T22:01:22.254+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Grandchildren</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/Sub7Xcnev0I/AAAAAAAAJT0/iZcYMcDi_68/s1600-h/DSC04055.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/Sub7Xcnev0I/AAAAAAAAJT0/iZcYMcDi_68/s200/DSC04055.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397277583687466818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grandchildren are such a blessing. I have 3 beautiful grand-daughters and I love them to bits.&lt;br /&gt;Last weekend I was asked to look after the girls while my son and daughter-in-law went out for the evening. I could have gone to their house and looked after them there but I knew they would have more fun if they had a sleepover at my house. And I was right.&lt;br /&gt;They played with the Barbies, they drew pictures and painted magnificent landscapes. We had art works drying everywhere. Molly didn't have her afternoon nap, insisting that she wasn't tired. Then they played outside for a while, collecting gum nuts that had fallen from the trees and picking flowers.&lt;br /&gt;Manfred &amp; I took the girls to Hillarys Marina for fish and chips and then they played in the playground at the family beach until it started to get dark. When we got home there was much discussion about who was sleeping where and also whose turn it was to sleep with Grandma. It was decided that it was Ella's turn to sleep in my bed (phew!) and eventually after bathing, dressing in pj's, teeth brushing, hair brushing etc they all went to bed and went straight to sleep. There was not another sound until 6am on Sunday morning.&lt;br /&gt;What a lovely time we had. They wanted pancakes for breakfast and, of course, Grandma obliged. Topping choices were maple syrup, golden syrup and honey and drink selections were banana or chocolate flavoured milk. &lt;br /&gt;After all of us dressing and gathering up the paintings we went to Church.&lt;br /&gt;We also had all our shoeboxes to deliver(21) to Church for Operation Christmas Child (a Samaritan's Purse initiative to give gifts to children in third world countries). &lt;br /&gt;After Church Manfred picked up Ella, Violet &amp; myself and we went to the Cancer Rally for Life that had been going for almost 24 hours at the Arena Joondalup.(No Molly because she really needed an afternoon nap!) It was such a warm, sticky, humid day so the girls had slushies to drink. Later we went to Hungry Jacks for burgers and chips before I took the girls back to their Mum and Dad.&lt;br /&gt;When I went home it was about 3pm and I was absolutely shattered. I made myself a coffee, lay on the bed and promptly fell asleep, with Spiffy cuddled up beside me, purring contentedly. The phone woke me at 6.15pm and even though I had slept for 3 hours I still had a good night's sleep on Sunday night. I was so exhausted.&lt;br /&gt;But I would not have missed a moment of those 24 hours with my adorable grand-daughters. We talked about all sorts of things, we laughed, we watched movies, listened to music, played with the Barbie dolls, painted pictures and although the girls made an effort to put all the toys away, there was still quite a lot of tidying to do afterwards. What fun we had. I love those little girls and it made me realise how fortunate I am that I get to see so much of my Grandchildren. So many Grandparents don't always have such a good relationship with their children or with their daughters-in-law or sons-in-law, and so they don't always get to spend so much time with their grandchildren. I am Blessed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/588353684797693828-2987555420581663313?l=katsaturday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katsaturday.blogspot.com/feeds/2987555420581663313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=588353684797693828&amp;postID=2987555420581663313' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/588353684797693828/posts/default/2987555420581663313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/588353684797693828/posts/default/2987555420581663313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katsaturday.blogspot.com/2009/10/grandchildren.html' title='Grandchildren'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05522856517333725794</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SG38y29gYNI/AAAAAAAAF5Q/Qco45DYQID4/S220/Kathryn.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/Sub7Xcnev0I/AAAAAAAAJT0/iZcYMcDi_68/s72-c/DSC04055.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-588353684797693828.post-3720889020896096258</id><published>2009-10-25T20:57:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-27T21:14:00.703+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Adventures of Spiffy Part 4</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/Subx7fiifNI/AAAAAAAAJTk/VfH_G1LGHsQ/s1600-h/DSC04662.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/Subx7fiifNI/AAAAAAAAJTk/VfH_G1LGHsQ/s200/DSC04662.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397267207831059666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I am really feeling a lot better now and apparently so is Hobbesy. When they took Hobbes to the vet, the vet was very pleased with him and he is now starting to get better. It just took him a bit longer than me, I guess because he is so much older. So isn’t that great, he gets to keep all 4 legs! He has even had a couple of walks over to my house and it was so nice to see him. Hobbes, Albert and me, we all stay inside at night now. We like to be able to go outside when we want to, but it really is much safer for us if we stay inside after dark. All the doors get closed including the pet flaps. I never liked using that pet flap anyway, its too big for me. It was really for Kathryn’s dogs that she used to have years ago and I have never liked using it so now I just insist on someone opening a proper door for me or I use that yellow litter tray. I’ve got used to it now, and its not so bad if there is no-one around.&lt;br /&gt;The funny thing was, Kathryn was trying to get me to use the pet flap again so she propped it up onto a stool so I didn’t have to push it with my head. I didn’t use it anyway even though it was propped open. And then, one day, Kathryn walked through to the kitchen and there was old Albert in the kitchen eating the rest of my breakfast that I had left for later!!! He must have thought an open pet flap was an invitation for him to come in. It seems Albert &amp; Hobbes were very welcome guests at my house before I lived here. It gave Kathryn a bit of a fright when she was expecting to see me in the kitchen and there was Albert! And Albert certainly got a fright! He took off the wrong way towards the family room and Kathryn was calling to him, “Albert you have to go out the way you came in!” I think she was a bit worried that if I saw him there might be another cat fight! But I was pretty relaxed, lying in a lovely warm sunny patch on the pool table. Kathryn’s put a towel there to stop the pool table from getting my cat hair all over it, so she must know I sleep there sometimes. She’s got towels all over the house now but she can’t keep up with all the nice new spots I keep finding. Well, I’m spending so much more time inside now, and I need a change of scene every few hours.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, when I went back to the vet, Kathryn put me in a normal storage box without a lid, to travel in the car. She knows I can behave very well in the car now. The only thing was, she put the lid on to take me into the vet’s waiting room, for my own safety, she tried to tell me! How embarrassing. And the vet thought it was very funny because it said “Baking things” on the lid. Kathryn had previously used the box when she was moving house. I didn’t think that was funny.&lt;br /&gt;When we went into the surgery, it was a man who took out those stringy things they call ‘stitches’. He was very nice too. Kathryn said she’d never seen a man there before, they were usually all women at this vet practice. He agreed that male vets were a dying breed, the profession was being taken over by women.&lt;br /&gt;He checked me over, no temperature this time – phew!! &lt;br /&gt;There was no money to pay this time either. Post-operative care is apparently free. So we very happily went home again.&lt;br /&gt;We’d just like to really thank the Duncraig Veterinary Hospital for taking such good care of Hobbesy and me. All the people who work at Duncraig Vet are really nice, friendly, caring and professional people and we really appreciate the very good treatment that we got there. Dr Sally looked after both Hobbesy and me and she was lovely to us both. Unfortunately, we didn’t get the man’s name that took out my stitches, but he was nice too, (and he knows who he is :)). Even Ollie, the ginger cat that welcomes everyone to the Duncraig Vet was nice to me, and I appreciate that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/588353684797693828-3720889020896096258?l=katsaturday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katsaturday.blogspot.com/feeds/3720889020896096258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=588353684797693828&amp;postID=3720889020896096258' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/588353684797693828/posts/default/3720889020896096258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/588353684797693828/posts/default/3720889020896096258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katsaturday.blogspot.com/2009/10/adventures-of-spiffy-part-4.html' title='Adventures of Spiffy Part 4'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05522856517333725794</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SG38y29gYNI/AAAAAAAAF5Q/Qco45DYQID4/S220/Kathryn.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/Subx7fiifNI/AAAAAAAAJTk/VfH_G1LGHsQ/s72-c/DSC04662.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-588353684797693828.post-7390765947520945736</id><published>2009-10-01T17:38:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-27T21:18:20.679+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Adventures of Spiffy Part 3</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SubzCJno_4I/AAAAAAAAJTs/OtueNViUrBg/s1600-h/DSC04660.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SubzCJno_4I/AAAAAAAAJTs/OtueNViUrBg/s200/DSC04660.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397268421717589890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have washed and washed but this bandage is there to stay. It has come away from my leg a little bit at the top and I can see that my leg is bare of hair, Also, I can see that there are little bits of stringy stuff holding those little injuries together. I can’t get to the worst ones. They are still covered up. I’m so glad they didn’t put one of those big plastic collars around my neck to stop me from investigating my injuries. I heard them talking about it, but they must have decided I could be trusted to leave the bandage alone. &lt;br /&gt;I’m getting lots of attention. Everyone is sympathising and telling me how brave I am and what a good boy I am. Being injured certainly has its positive side. Meals have been good and on time too, which is great. There have even been some lovely ‘treats’ but I’m still not allowed to get on the table especially when people are eating.&lt;br /&gt;Since the weather has been improving, Kathryn makes sure all the blinds are tilted just right before she goes out, so that I can change my room and my position according to where the sun is coming into the house. Its not the same as being outside but its not too bad.&lt;br /&gt;I’m even getting used to that yellow litter tray. Kathryn is very discrete about it and cleans up after me all the time and makes sure the tray is always nice and clean. You know, cats are very clean animals and we like our privacy too, and I appreciate that Kathryn seems to be aware of it. Mind you, her job is made easier by the fact that I always leave the tray as clean as I can and everything is nicely covered over. I have accidentally swept some of the grey gritty stuff onto the floor but it couldn’t be helped. When you are as thorough as I am about toilet habits – well, that tray is not very big. I don’t know how Hobbes is getting on next door. He’s such a big boy too, and he loves to be outside.&lt;br /&gt;Well after a day or two, we made that car trip to see those nice ladies again. This time I had to travel in the cat carrier cage that we borrowed from the nice ladies. I was examined and poked and prodded again. Apparently that indecent act is called taking the temperature and they did it to me AGAIN! &lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the bandage was taken off, which is good, and now I can wash my leg properly. It is so bare and I have all these little places where that stringy stuff goes through my skin. I’ve tried to bite it and pull it but I can’t get it out. Kathryn keeps having a look at them and telling me to leave them alone but what does she know. I know the more I wash those wounds the better they will be. That’s what cats do. &lt;br /&gt;I heard Kathryn talking about poor old Hobbes next door. He must be in a worse state than I am but then he is so much older. Poor Ruth must be worried sick about him. Apparently she’s been taking him back up to the vet nearly every day and they are doing all kinds of tests on him. They think he might have feline AIDs!! Doesn’t that sound dreadful. I hope I haven’t got it. His wounds aren’t healing like they should and they’re even using the word sshhhh, I’ll say it quietly ‘amputation…..’. ‘nuff said about that. &lt;br /&gt;Albert is a bit lost. I guess with both me and Hobbes locked inside he’s got no-one to pass the time of day with. He comes over every day and checks on me through the bedroom window. In the mornings, on good days, it’s a lovely sunny spot just there in that front window. Albert lies outside the window and I lie inside and it feels like we’re together. &lt;br /&gt;Later on, I made such a fuss at the door that Kathryn decided to let me out for awhile and guess what? Hobbesy was outside too! It was so good to see the old guy. He looks a bit thin and worried but he told me he can still purr when he’s smooching with Ruth.&lt;br /&gt;Kathryn was supposed to take me back to the vet but she’s been so busy with going to work and looking after all these trainee demi au pairs coming and going from the house that she hasn’t had time. She seems to think I’m doing pretty well. I’ve forgiven her for putting me in that cat carrier box so I’m sleeping on her bed at night again. It’s the best place anyway, warm and cosy. And even though Kathryn complains about all my hair everywhere on her bed, I know she likes me to be there.&lt;br /&gt;Ah, its not a bad life and my leg is starting to feel a bit better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/588353684797693828-7390765947520945736?l=katsaturday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katsaturday.blogspot.com/feeds/7390765947520945736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=588353684797693828&amp;postID=7390765947520945736' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/588353684797693828/posts/default/7390765947520945736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/588353684797693828/posts/default/7390765947520945736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katsaturday.blogspot.com/2009/10/adventures-of-spiffy-part-3.html' title='Adventures of Spiffy Part 3'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05522856517333725794</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SG38y29gYNI/AAAAAAAAF5Q/Qco45DYQID4/S220/Kathryn.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SubzCJno_4I/AAAAAAAAJTs/OtueNViUrBg/s72-c/DSC04660.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-588353684797693828.post-7896999767969753692</id><published>2009-09-30T10:52:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-30T11:00:48.131+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Adventures of Spiffy Part 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SsLJKSnNZPI/AAAAAAAAJTc/v9Z6SPQW_hg/s1600-h/DSC04658.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SsLJKSnNZPI/AAAAAAAAJTc/v9Z6SPQW_hg/s200/DSC04658.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387089282920703218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My head was fuzzy, I couldn’t think straight. I knew I was in the car again, in this stupid little cage that I couldn’t turn around in. Oh, this leg, that’s why I couldn’t turn around. I had a great thick bandage on my leg, covered up with a bright red one, and it made my leg feel stiff and it was sticking out. That’s why I couldn’t get comfortable.&lt;br /&gt;When we got home, Kathryn opened the cage to let me out and I couldn’t get out quickly enough. But then I realized that I could hardly stand up, I was so dizzy and confused. I wobbled and wavered about with Kathryn trying to catch me. She was saying “Slow down, Spiffy, take it easy, little boy! Sit down somewhere, will you, or I’ll have to put you back in the cage!” What? Not the cage again! I found my way to the kitchen and Kathryn produced a saucer with my favourite fish on it. I was ravenous, but also as tired as can be. That’s how I ended up lying down to eat my meal. It might have looked lazy in the photo, but there was no other way. Then I found a nice comfy spot to curl up and sleep off this terrible tiredness. I’m sure those ladies must have given me something when I was out of it, to make me so sleepy. I know I sleep a lot normally, but at least I’m still alert and know what’s going on around me. Ah well, zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I woke up, I felt a lot more alive and alert and ready to go outside. I was busting, so I made my way over to the door. It wasn’t easy with this ridiculous bandage on my leg. I know I’ve got my own pet door but I really prefer to go out of the laundry door into the carport, and there  is usually someone kind enough to open it for me. But I couldn’t get into the laundry because the sliding door was closed. It is normally always open. I looked around but no-one was taking any notice of me.&lt;br /&gt;So I hobbled back over to the other sliding door where the pet flap is and guess what? That sliding door was closed too! And in front of it was a yellow plastic rectangular tray with grey gritty stuff in it. I miaowed loudly and I don’t usually do that.&lt;br /&gt;“Sorry, Spiffy, you can’t go outside for 10 days.” Kathryn said. What! How am I going to stay inside for so long? How can I do my private business? Is that what this silly yellow thing is for? And I showed them what I thought of it. I carefully stepped onto the grey gritty stuff, poked around a little bit with my front paws, and then I moved around in a couple of circles and lay down in the tray. I was still busting but I wasn’t going to let them know I was. While they kept an eye on me, I’d play their game, but I was sure it wouldn’t take long for someone to forget to keep the door closed and I would be ready when the opportunity presented itself.&lt;br /&gt;The next thing I knew lights were being turned off, the tv was switched off and everyone went to bed. I was left lying there in this stupid yellow tray.&lt;br /&gt;I thought about my situation for awhile and then when I was sure that everyone was asleep and it was pitch dark inside and out, I dug a little hole in that grey gritty stuff and did what I had to do. Carefully and as quietly as possible, I covered it over so no-one would know I had done it. I’ll show them.&lt;br /&gt;I went and found a comfortable spot on the couch and slept for another 8 hours or so, thinking that when they got up in the morning they would forget that I’m supposed to be staying inside. At least when I was asleep I wasn’t thinking about this leg hurting so much. My plan was to start taking off the bandage in the morning after everyone had left the house. I would give all those wounds a good wash myself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/588353684797693828-7896999767969753692?l=katsaturday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katsaturday.blogspot.com/feeds/7896999767969753692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=588353684797693828&amp;postID=7896999767969753692' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/588353684797693828/posts/default/7896999767969753692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/588353684797693828/posts/default/7896999767969753692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katsaturday.blogspot.com/2009/09/adventures-of-spiffy-part-2.html' title='Adventures of Spiffy Part 2'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05522856517333725794</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SG38y29gYNI/AAAAAAAAF5Q/Qco45DYQID4/S220/Kathryn.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SsLJKSnNZPI/AAAAAAAAJTc/v9Z6SPQW_hg/s72-c/DSC04658.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-588353684797693828.post-3662587007929659675</id><published>2009-09-26T16:26:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-26T16:40:18.348+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Adventures of Spiffy Part 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/Sr3SAJoDMPI/AAAAAAAAJTU/k8QlT3Y6X6Y/s1600-h/DSC04656.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/Sr3SAJoDMPI/AAAAAAAAJTU/k8QlT3Y6X6Y/s200/DSC04656.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385691629430714610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hi, this is Spiffy. Kathryn says I can use her Blog to get my message out there.&lt;br /&gt;The photo is of me, yes the red colour suits me doesn’t it? But this leg is really sore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all started when I didn’t wake Kathryn up before her alarm went. Yes, I’m usually one step ahead of the alarm :) I want my breakfast before Kathryn heads off into the shower etc. When she woke up and realised I wasn’t there, she came looking for me. I was in a sorry state curled up on the couch. I felt like I’d been run over by a train. When I saw that Kathryn had come looking for me I tried to stand up but it was very difficult. One of my back legs just wouldn’t work. She had a look at my foot and my leg but couldn’t see anything, there was no blood or anything and I eventually hobbled out to the kitchen to make a bit of a show, at least, that I needed my breakfast. I couldn’t eat it though, and it was my favourite; Whiskas salmon and chicken in jelly, in the sachet, not the can. I tried to get comfortable in several different chairs and both couches but this leg was killing me. It’s a pity I can’t talk, because I would have really liked to tell Kathryn what happened to me. I could see she was really worried. She was looking up phone numbers and getting the surgery hours for the vet, pacing back &amp; forth to check on me. I managed to get a little sleep and next thing I knew Kathryn was picking me up and putting me in her car! Whoah! Not another move to a different house! I’ve lived in enough different houses with plenty of different people and I like it HERE! I’m so used to travelling in cars but that’s what it usually means – she’s getting rid of me! PANIC!&lt;br /&gt;Next thing, she’s putting me in a big plastic box in the front passenger seat, no lid though. She must know I can travel well in the car. I’m pretty brave really. I know people call me a Wuss, but I’m not really. Some cats are terrified of cars, but not me, I’ve done my share of travel. Kathryn talked quietly to me while we were driving, and after one initial walk across the whole dashboard, I thought I might as well sit quietly in the box. I didn’t want her to put the lid on the box, and she threatened to if I didn’t sit still!&lt;br /&gt;Kathryn doesn’t own a proper carry cage (thankfully!). But when we got to our destination, she got out of the car and left me alone! What’s going on here, I thought. So I settled down in the sun on the driver’s seat while I waited to see what would happen next. I was pretty worried but I wasn’t going to let it show. &lt;br /&gt;In a few minutes she came back with a pet carrier cage and put me in it! I was already feeling really bad, but that was really demoralising. Kathryn then carried me – in the cage – into another building. It smelt funny, but there were friendly people there and another cat. He was very interested in me and sniffed at me through the bars of the cage. I found out later that his name was Ollie and he lived there with those nice friendly people. &lt;br /&gt;They took me into a room and a nice lady examined my leg. Boy, did that hurt when she prodded and poked, and squeezed blood out of holes that she found in my leg. And I was really brave, until she poked that other thing into an unmentionable part of me. How degrading! Then three of them had to hold me while they shaved some of my beautiful hair off. The lady said she needed to get a better look at the injuries. And then she told Kathryn that I’d probably been attacked by another cat and these were very deep bite wounds. Well if only I could talk I would have told her that myself. He was a big brute, too. No mercy.&lt;br /&gt;I don’t remember much after that. I think Kathryn left me there but I was so tired and sick I didn’t really care. I know she loves me and wouldn’t let anything bad happen to me. How could I have thought she would get rid of me.&lt;br /&gt;The next thing I knew I was being bundled into another cage (borrowed from the nice ladies) and Kathryn was talking to the other nice lady at the front desk and handing over BUNDLES of money! Then Kathryn asked for a receipt. I suppose she was going to wave that under my nose later. I was so tired I didn’t care any more.&lt;br /&gt;Then the strangest thing happened. A voice said “Hello, Kathryn.” And it was Ruth, our next door neighbour, where my best friends, Hobbes and Albert live. They’re pretty old guys and they used to terrorise me a bit when I first moved into the neighbourhood, but we get on pretty well now. They thought my garden was their garden until we sorted out few issues over fences and shed roofs and such. &lt;br /&gt;Anyway, back to the story. It turned out that Hobbes had the same kind of injuries as I had and he had had a general anaesthetic and surgery just like mine! Where I had a red bandage, he had a green one! Can you believe it? Poor old Hobbes; I mean I’m in the prime of life and pretty fit, but he’s 14 years old!&lt;br /&gt;And then Ruth was handing over bundles of money, too, to the lady at the counter.&lt;br /&gt;I put my head down and slept. This was all too much.&lt;br /&gt;To be continued.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/588353684797693828-3662587007929659675?l=katsaturday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katsaturday.blogspot.com/feeds/3662587007929659675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=588353684797693828&amp;postID=3662587007929659675' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/588353684797693828/posts/default/3662587007929659675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/588353684797693828/posts/default/3662587007929659675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katsaturday.blogspot.com/2009/09/adventures-of-spiffy-part-1.html' title='Adventures of Spiffy Part 1'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05522856517333725794</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SG38y29gYNI/AAAAAAAAF5Q/Qco45DYQID4/S220/Kathryn.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/Sr3SAJoDMPI/AAAAAAAAJTU/k8QlT3Y6X6Y/s72-c/DSC04656.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-588353684797693828.post-3495710575618891249</id><published>2009-07-13T19:05:00.009+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T19:56:55.927+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cows</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/Slsg27W_EnI/AAAAAAAAJSM/VOjZ-tMyYBs/s1600-h/Berlin+Sonja,+Manfred+%26+Kathryn%27s+211.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/Slsg27W_EnI/AAAAAAAAJSM/VOjZ-tMyYBs/s200/Berlin+Sonja,+Manfred+%26+Kathryn%27s+211.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357912309706461810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SlsacGhDwkI/AAAAAAAAJR0/JfIVsQBI4dc/s1600-h/Berlin+Sonja,+Manfred+%26+Kathryn%27s+210.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 206px; height: 155px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SlsacGhDwkI/AAAAAAAAJR0/JfIVsQBI4dc/s200/Berlin+Sonja,+Manfred+%26+Kathryn%27s+210.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357905251775267394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SlsbWrvUfAI/AAAAAAAAJR8/hUzB6q6KKQk/s1600-h/Berlin+Sonja,+Manfred+%26+Kathryn%27s+388.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SlsbWrvUfAI/AAAAAAAAJR8/hUzB6q6KKQk/s200/Berlin+Sonja,+Manfred+%26+Kathryn%27s+388.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357906258199608322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="display: block;" id="formatbar_Buttons"&gt;&lt;span class="on down" style="display: block;" id="formatbar_JustifyCenter" title="Align Center" onmouseover="ButtonHoverOn(this);" onmouseout="ButtonHoverOff(this);" onmouseup="" onmousedown="CheckFormatting(event);FormatbarButton('richeditorframe', this, 11);ButtonMouseDown(this);"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif" alt="Align Center" class="gl_align_center" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many years ago I spent some time in Switzerland, where, I have to say, the cows were beautiful. Don't laugh, they really were.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Recently, while I was in Germany (Bavaria), I met some more very beautiful cows. They are also friendly, have the longest eyelashes I have ever seen, and have tinkling bells hanging around their necks.&lt;br /&gt;Some of them are even quite funny. I would even go so far as to say they have a sense of humour! For example, while we were staying in a Ferien Wohnung (I hope that is spelt correctly), a holiday apartment, on the first floor of a beautiful old farmhouse in the village of Oberstdorf in Aargau, Bavaria, every day a farmer drove his cows through the village and past our accommodation, morning and night, to the sound of tinkling bells, and shouts from the farmer to keep everyone moving. The farmer was on a bicycle at the back of the herd. Each morning when we heard the bells, we jumped out of bed to watch them pass, and in the evening, if we were home from doing our touristy things, we would watch them go back the other way. There was one cow in particular who had a taste for a particular plant in the garden next door to us and she would quickly climb up on a rock to get to the plant and start munching away. Every day she would get into trouble with the farmer; he would shout at her and hit her &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SlscqHMFhWI/AAAAAAAAJSE/aDHyOSpf42U/s1600-h/Berlin+Sonja,+Manfred+%26+Kathryn%27s+273.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 301px; height: 224px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SlscqHMFhWI/AAAAAAAAJSE/aDHyOSpf42U/s200/Berlin+Sonja,+Manfred+%26+Kathryn%27s+273.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357907691497162082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;with a stick, but she was undeterred, every morning there she was again!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/588353684797693828-3495710575618891249?l=katsaturday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katsaturday.blogspot.com/feeds/3495710575618891249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=588353684797693828&amp;postID=3495710575618891249' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/588353684797693828/posts/default/3495710575618891249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/588353684797693828/posts/default/3495710575618891249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katsaturday.blogspot.com/2009/07/cows.html' title='Cows'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05522856517333725794</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SG38y29gYNI/AAAAAAAAF5Q/Qco45DYQID4/S220/Kathryn.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/Slsg27W_EnI/AAAAAAAAJSM/VOjZ-tMyYBs/s72-c/Berlin+Sonja,+Manfred+%26+Kathryn%27s+211.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-588353684797693828.post-815240730514016128</id><published>2009-07-12T16:22:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-12T16:32:48.513+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Germany'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='holiday'/><title type='text'>Holiday in Germany</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SlmfhsJD9CI/AAAAAAAAJQ0/yKdqG-Zvc9Q/s1600-h/Berlin+Sonja,+Manfred+%26+Kathryn%27s+080.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SlmfhsJD9CI/AAAAAAAAJQ0/yKdqG-Zvc9Q/s320/Berlin+Sonja,+Manfred+%26+Kathryn%27s+080.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357488632867583010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent the month of June with Manfred in Germany. We travelled by Emirates to Berlin from Perth, via Dubai and Munich. The main purpose of the trip was to see Manfred's family, particularly his father because he hasn't been very well and is getting a bit frail.&lt;br /&gt;I didn't keep a diary on this holiday, but I hope to write some posts over the next few weeks about different aspects of the trip.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/588353684797693828-815240730514016128?l=katsaturday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katsaturday.blogspot.com/feeds/815240730514016128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=588353684797693828&amp;postID=815240730514016128' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/588353684797693828/posts/default/815240730514016128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/588353684797693828/posts/default/815240730514016128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katsaturday.blogspot.com/2009/07/holiday-in-germany.html' title='Holiday in Germany'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05522856517333725794</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SG38y29gYNI/AAAAAAAAF5Q/Qco45DYQID4/S220/Kathryn.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SlmfhsJD9CI/AAAAAAAAJQ0/yKdqG-Zvc9Q/s72-c/Berlin+Sonja,+Manfred+%26+Kathryn%27s+080.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-588353684797693828.post-3253134155956773956</id><published>2009-04-17T16:59:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T17:10:04.828+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='magpies'/><title type='text'>Australian Magpie</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SehGUwYnV6I/AAAAAAAAJFU/v0UqH5Kt8ec/s1600-h/2009_1+286.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SehGUwYnV6I/AAAAAAAAJFU/v0UqH5Kt8ec/s320/2009_1+286.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325583881765083042" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Magpies are so interesting. They appear to be very intelligent, very brave (sometimes even intimidating when they 'swoop' people to guard their young ones), and they are very family oriented. The family stays together in a group for quite some time, until the parents decide they have had enough of the young ones and shoo them away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Magpies also have very beautiful songs, which they appear to sing when they want us to give them something, like the one pictured. I love to hear them sing; beautiful melodies trilling along, and no two the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that magpies are able to read too. There were signs everywhere at Whiteman Park where we had our bbq on Easter Saturday, saying "Do not feed the birds", but maybe he thought that we couldn't read. Or that we were too busy enjoying ourselves that we hadn't noticed the sign.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/588353684797693828-3253134155956773956?l=katsaturday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katsaturday.blogspot.com/feeds/3253134155956773956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=588353684797693828&amp;postID=3253134155956773956' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/588353684797693828/posts/default/3253134155956773956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/588353684797693828/posts/default/3253134155956773956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katsaturday.blogspot.com/2009/04/australian-magpie.html' title='Australian Magpie'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05522856517333725794</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SG38y29gYNI/AAAAAAAAF5Q/Qco45DYQID4/S220/Kathryn.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SehGUwYnV6I/AAAAAAAAJFU/v0UqH5Kt8ec/s72-c/2009_1+286.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-588353684797693828.post-7458764832057657452</id><published>2009-04-14T22:17:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-15T00:10:25.082+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Easter Birthday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SeS08U_kIiI/AAAAAAAAIvk/IbMTxuYtfH8/s1600-h/Easter+birthday+002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SeS08U_kIiI/AAAAAAAAIvk/IbMTxuYtfH8/s320/Easter+birthday+002.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324579607979237922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must be so lucky. I was born on Easter Saturday and over the years I have had many Easter birthdays. Although Easter does move around the calendar a fair bit, but this year my birthday fell on Easter Sunday. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt as excited as a schoolgirl about my birthday this year and I don't know why. It did give me lots of opportunities to talk about Easter to different people, and about why Easter is so important.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought Easter this year was particularly special, which was wonderful because lately I've been thinking that more and more people think of Easter as just another holiday, an extra special long weekend of 4 days, so a great opportunity to go away for a few days, to make the most of the last of the good weather before Autumn and Winter are really upon us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many of my friends are not Christians in the church-going committed sense, but they know that I am, they know I attend Church and this weekend was another of those times when I was asked about my faith, my beliefs, why I believe, and whether what I did was a hangover from a Christian upbringing. It is interesting how some intelligent people think that Christianity is something that you merely 'out-grow' as you become an adult; once you no longer attend Sunday school or are no longer taken to Church by 'grown-ups'. And I was very happy to tell that my faith is quite the opposite - a definite adult decision, made after much thought and prayer, using both my head and my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Sunday morning I was up very early and I alternated between 2 tv channels, trying to watch the best of 2 very good Easter Church services. I don't normally turn on the tv in the morning, especially at the weekend but I'm so glad that I did on Sunday. The worship songs were inspirational and the sermons were thought provoking and so appropriate for the 21st century.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus is alive and living in me! He lived and walked on earth with mere mortal men, he was wise and compassionate and performed miracles. But the biggest and most important thing that He did was that He died on that cross for the sins of all people, and not only that! But he rose again on the third day, He defeated death, He fulfilled prophecies, He appeared to so many that there is no denying that He is the Christ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How special that I have my birthday on such a wonderful day! I am Blessed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/588353684797693828-7458764832057657452?l=katsaturday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katsaturday.blogspot.com/feeds/7458764832057657452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=588353684797693828&amp;postID=7458764832057657452' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/588353684797693828/posts/default/7458764832057657452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/588353684797693828/posts/default/7458764832057657452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katsaturday.blogspot.com/2009/04/easter-birthday.html' title='Easter Birthday'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05522856517333725794</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SG38y29gYNI/AAAAAAAAF5Q/Qco45DYQID4/S220/Kathryn.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SeS08U_kIiI/AAAAAAAAIvk/IbMTxuYtfH8/s72-c/Easter+birthday+002.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-588353684797693828.post-4517539677002007475</id><published>2009-02-15T23:24:00.002+09:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T23:33:31.414+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Spiffy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SZgndAuLeeI/AAAAAAAAIYI/pnrARGBbi-o/s1600-h/DSC03534.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SZgndAuLeeI/AAAAAAAAIYI/pnrARGBbi-o/s320/DSC03534.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303031940592138722" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spiffy got left behind at my house, by one of the girls that was living here. Now she has gone house-sitting.&lt;br /&gt;He has really made himself at home and we have a very nice relationship. I had planned on getting a dog, but Spiffy doesn't seem to like dogs. Or maybe he just likes all the attention for himself?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/588353684797693828-4517539677002007475?l=katsaturday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katsaturday.blogspot.com/feeds/4517539677002007475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=588353684797693828&amp;postID=4517539677002007475' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/588353684797693828/posts/default/4517539677002007475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/588353684797693828/posts/default/4517539677002007475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katsaturday.blogspot.com/2009/02/spiffy.html' title='Spiffy'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05522856517333725794</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SG38y29gYNI/AAAAAAAAF5Q/Qco45DYQID4/S220/Kathryn.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SZgndAuLeeI/AAAAAAAAIYI/pnrARGBbi-o/s72-c/DSC03534.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-588353684797693828.post-906526861243580463</id><published>2009-02-13T18:01:00.003+09:00</published><updated>2009-02-13T18:20:35.002+09:00</updated><title type='text'>The Victoria Bush Fires</title><content type='html'>The news has been pretty much all bad news for the last week; dominated by the bush fires in Victoria and the plight of all those homeless people.&lt;br /&gt;Every day there are more heroic stories about brave people trying to save their families, their homes, their pets, their cars, everything that they have loved, and in many cases they fought and lost.&lt;br /&gt;So many people have perished, the fire was no respecter of age, young and old alike have gone. Many are still missing. Many people have missing family members. My heart aches for them. What a tragedy. It is especially tragic when you consider that the police believe that many of the fires were deliberately lit. Every summer there are crazy fire bugs out there lighting fires. Do they enjoy seeing the devastation and suffering they cause?&lt;br /&gt;So many animals have perished, livestock from farms, family pets and maybe up to a million wild animals and birds. We have been amazed by stories of koalas befriending people for a drink of water, when normally they would be shy and not go close to people in the wild. It is hoped that some endangered species have not been lost forever.&lt;br /&gt;The people of Australia have rallied. There are fund raising activities happening everywhere. Businesses are donating profits from sales. Individuals are giving like they have never given before. And even more, there are so many people who have volunteered their time and are there with the fire 'refugees' feeding them, sheltering them, clothing them, caring for them, consoling them, counselling them, reassuring and encouraging them, doing everything that needs to be done.&lt;br /&gt;While meanwhile, the fire service, the volunteer firies, the army, the police and all the other government and official groups get on with the work of dousing the fires, finding the missing people and investigating the cause of the fires and hopefully finding the culprits who caused them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All these people are in my prayers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/588353684797693828-906526861243580463?l=katsaturday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katsaturday.blogspot.com/feeds/906526861243580463/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=588353684797693828&amp;postID=906526861243580463' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/588353684797693828/posts/default/906526861243580463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/588353684797693828/posts/default/906526861243580463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katsaturday.blogspot.com/2009/02/victoria-bush-fires.html' title='The Victoria Bush Fires'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05522856517333725794</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SG38y29gYNI/AAAAAAAAF5Q/Qco45DYQID4/S220/Kathryn.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-588353684797693828.post-192777084077769094</id><published>2009-01-11T18:20:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2009-01-11T18:27:12.534+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Perth in Summer</title><content type='html'>Today is the fourteenth day in a row that Perth has had more than 32C. Today it was 38.5C and it was still 35C at 5.30pm. Phew!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People are still flocking to the beaches to cool off in the Indian Ocean even though there have been many shark sightings since that dreadful day 2 weeks ago when a 51 year old man was taken by a 5metre white pointer shark, while snorkelling at Port Kennedy, south of Perth. I have braved the ocean once for a swim, last weekend, but I must say I was a bit nervous of every shadow that appeared in the beautiful turquoise water.  The shark spotter helicopter flew overhead while we were swimming, so we were as safe as we could be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A cooler day is expected tomorrow but back to 38C by Thursday. They tell us this is normal Perth weather but it always comes a shock when it happens. At least the lovely sea breeze, the "Fremantle Doctor", has been doing his best every afternoon to cool us down.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/588353684797693828-192777084077769094?l=katsaturday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katsaturday.blogspot.com/feeds/192777084077769094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=588353684797693828&amp;postID=192777084077769094' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/588353684797693828/posts/default/192777084077769094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/588353684797693828/posts/default/192777084077769094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katsaturday.blogspot.com/2009/01/perth-in-summer.html' title='Perth in Summer'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05522856517333725794</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SG38y29gYNI/AAAAAAAAF5Q/Qco45DYQID4/S220/Kathryn.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-588353684797693828.post-8158754753725157819</id><published>2008-08-04T11:26:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T23:08:36.255+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Home from travels</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SJZ-F0UrqEI/AAAAAAAAF7M/BF-VcNV8-Ic/s1600-h/Richard+in+Thailand.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SJZ-F0UrqEI/AAAAAAAAF7M/BF-VcNV8-Ic/s320/Richard+in+Thailand.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230506655647246402" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am back at home with Manfred, and it seems strange after a month of being at my sister's house, and the busy routine of all that I did in the month of July.&lt;br /&gt;I have handed everything over to my sister, and spent most of Friday and Saturday with her. We talked about all the work issues so that she is up-to-date with everything and we also talked about her trip to the UK and all our relatives that she spent time with. We have so many cousins, second-cousins and so on.&lt;br /&gt;Heather attended both a funeral and a wedding in that time. The funeral of my auntie and the wedding of Kelly, the grand-daughter of the auntie who died. The wedding must have been such a  bitter-sweet day for the whole family.&lt;br /&gt;Heather and Pauline had a wonderful holiday and spent a couple of days in Kuala Lumpur on the way home to Perth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My son, Richard, and daughter-in-law, Mandy, have returned from the Missions trip to Thailand. They and 2 other members of the team, spoke at Church yesterday on the events of their trip. Another bitter-sweet story.&lt;br /&gt;They spoke of joy and sadness, sickness and hope, perseverance and love.&lt;br /&gt;They met people who were so poor, they were begging for their next meal for their families. &lt;br /&gt;They met other people who were full of joy and hope for the future; Thai children who are being cared for by the "Home of Hope Orphanage". These same Thai children turned the tables on our team by praying for OUR team, after our team had prayed for them! It apparently was very humbling. The photos showed happy, laughing, cared-for children in an orphanage where they are not only fed and sheltered, but loved, educated and treated like a big family. See www.homeofhopethai.org&lt;br /&gt;There were other children at Mae Sot, who are not so fortunate. They are refugees from Burma/Myanmar, and they have no rights in Thailand, so there is no schooling for them. They are lucky if they have a roof over their heads and food in their tummies. I look forward to talking more with my son about this area of need, to see what we can do to help more.&lt;br /&gt;My grandchildren are, of course, delighted to have their mummy and daddy home again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/588353684797693828-8158754753725157819?l=katsaturday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katsaturday.blogspot.com/feeds/8158754753725157819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=588353684797693828&amp;postID=8158754753725157819' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/588353684797693828/posts/default/8158754753725157819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/588353684797693828/posts/default/8158754753725157819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katsaturday.blogspot.com/2008/08/home-from-travels.html' title='Home from travels'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05522856517333725794</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SG38y29gYNI/AAAAAAAAF5Q/Qco45DYQID4/S220/Kathryn.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SJZ-F0UrqEI/AAAAAAAAF7M/BF-VcNV8-Ic/s72-c/Richard+in+Thailand.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-588353684797693828.post-1586913835551368309</id><published>2008-07-25T12:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-25T12:13:35.658+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mamma Mia!</title><content type='html'>I went with a group of ladies from my Church to see the movie 'Mamma Mia' on Wednesday evening.&lt;br /&gt;It was fantastic. We had such a wonderful time that we didn't want to get up out of our seats when the movie finished. We watched the credits and all. There was clapping and even one or two who couldn't resist the temptation to get up and dance!&lt;br /&gt;Everyone was smiling as they left the cinema and the coffee shop next door filled up with noisy, laughing, happy ladies who didn't want the evening to end.&lt;br /&gt;We were all uplifted by the Abba melodies and the crazy, happy nostalgia of bright coloured clothes and platform-soled shoes.&lt;br /&gt;Go and see it - it is really good! Long Live ABBA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/588353684797693828-1586913835551368309?l=katsaturday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katsaturday.blogspot.com/feeds/1586913835551368309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=588353684797693828&amp;postID=1586913835551368309' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/588353684797693828/posts/default/1586913835551368309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/588353684797693828/posts/default/1586913835551368309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katsaturday.blogspot.com/2008/07/mamma-mia.html' title='Mamma Mia!'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05522856517333725794</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SG38y29gYNI/AAAAAAAAF5Q/Qco45DYQID4/S220/Kathryn.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-588353684797693828.post-1281291509888661785</id><published>2008-07-18T21:46:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-18T22:15:45.676+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Living up to my blog</title><content type='html'>Well I am living up to my Blog title.&lt;br /&gt;On 1st July my sister went on a trip to the UK, and left me in charge of her house, her pets (2 small dogs, one free-range rabbit who thinks he/she is a dog and 2 lovebirds whose main occupation is to make as much mess as they can) and her business. So I am living at her house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the last couple of years I have been working with my sister every Thursday &amp; Friday in her business which she runs from home. I still do my half-time job at the University of Western Australia library, in the first half of each week.&lt;br /&gt;Heather's business is two-fold, firstly she is an Education Agent, dealing mainly with international students http://ultimatestudiesaustralia.com, and secondly she is an au pair agent, perthdemipair.com, where she places au pairs and demi pairs with families.&lt;br /&gt;Now the best part of all this is that the au/demi pairs when they arrive in Perth stay at Heather's house until they are acclimatised, inducted, oriented etc. to their new situation and placed with a host family.&lt;br /&gt;The demi pairs also go to school, usually to learn English, so they learn to use our public transport system. We train them to be independent, helpful people who can't rely on their mothers any more to pick up after them.&lt;br /&gt;It is very interesting and informative and we have met some really lovely people.&lt;br /&gt;However July is historically a quiet month for the arrival of au/demi pairs. But as soon as Heather booked her month long holiday, July turned into a busy month.&lt;br /&gt;At this moment I am sharing Heather's house with a Korean, A Zimbabwean, a German and a Japanese. Tonight, being Friday, I decided not to cook, so we had fish and chips, and they all enjoyed them. Every other night I have concocted delicious meals for them :-)&lt;br /&gt;These girls are wonderful. They are helpful, they wash the dishes, they sweep the floor, they hang out the washing, they play with the dogs and the rabbit. They are happy and we have lots of good conversations and have lots of laughs.&lt;br /&gt;But I am so tired. I feel as if I am on constant duty. I have a normal telephone, Heather's mobile phone, my mobile phone, the phone connected to the computer, the answering machine, the fax, the emails (mine and Heather's) and my job!! And then "Excuse me, Kathryn, I have a question..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I had to call out a plumber. The water would not drain away from the shower. Disaster! Five women who can't take a shower! I convinced the nice plumber that it was essential it was fixed today even though he was extremely busy. &lt;br /&gt;The weather was particularly bad today too, raining, very windy, thunderstorms and cold. Many homes in Perth ended up with no electricity because of power lines being down. Some houses were damaged by falling trees, some houses lost parts of their rooves (roofs?). So we were fortunate. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel better now for having written all this down. Now I can go to sleep. Tomorrow is another day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/588353684797693828-1281291509888661785?l=katsaturday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katsaturday.blogspot.com/feeds/1281291509888661785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=588353684797693828&amp;postID=1281291509888661785' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/588353684797693828/posts/default/1281291509888661785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/588353684797693828/posts/default/1281291509888661785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katsaturday.blogspot.com/2008/07/living-up-to-my-blog.html' title='Living up to my blog'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05522856517333725794</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SG38y29gYNI/AAAAAAAAF5Q/Qco45DYQID4/S220/Kathryn.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-588353684797693828.post-8594315633554886590</id><published>2008-07-14T15:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-14T15:53:34.454+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life and death</title><content type='html'>Today is the 3rd anniversary of my Mother's death in Christchurch, New Zealand.&lt;br /&gt;Her last years on this earth were difficult and very sad for her because she was suffering from Alzheimer's for a long time before any body realized. She was often upset, angry and demanding and we didn't understand why. My Dad did everything for her in their later years until she turned against him too and eventually she was hospitalised and wouldn't even see Dad at all.&lt;br /&gt;We just always thought she was a really difficult person to get on with. And 3 years after her death, we are all still thinking about how it could have been so different for our whole family if people in the medical profession had listened to my sisters and to me, as far back as 1982.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then today, I learned that my Mum's younger sister Barbara, my Godmother, passed away in England. She had been very sick for a long time and many people had been praying for her health and her salvation. Well she wasn't healed, but we're pretty sure she was saved, and went peacefully to her maker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the time difference between UK and NZ, it seems that my Mum and my Godmother actually both passed away on the same date, just 3 years apart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Christine and Barbara, it's my prayer that you are both together again now, after all those years apart, safe and content in the arms of Jesus.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/588353684797693828-8594315633554886590?l=katsaturday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katsaturday.blogspot.com/feeds/8594315633554886590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=588353684797693828&amp;postID=8594315633554886590' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/588353684797693828/posts/default/8594315633554886590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/588353684797693828/posts/default/8594315633554886590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katsaturday.blogspot.com/2008/07/life-and-death.html' title='Life and death'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05522856517333725794</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SG38y29gYNI/AAAAAAAAF5Q/Qco45DYQID4/S220/Kathryn.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-588353684797693828.post-8118039068915091115</id><published>2008-07-10T18:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-11T07:18:19.244+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Children</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SHXwQTMNEiI/AAAAAAAAF50/z-IRyWqvBp4/s1600-h/DSC02228.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SHXwQTMNEiI/AAAAAAAAF50/z-IRyWqvBp4/s320/DSC02228.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221343505825993250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, my son, Richard and my daughter-in-law, Mandy, left with a group of friends from our church to go on a missions trip to Thailand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were three very sad little girls saying good-bye to their mummy and daddy, although I think the main reason they were sad was because their mummy was sad to be leaving them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those three little girls, Ella, Violet and Molly, my grand-daughters, are so well loved by so many people. They have grandparents, great-grandparents, aunties, uncles, cousins, great-aunties and a host of people who are their church family who love them. They have regular hugs, cuddles and kisses. They are taken out to all the fun places where children love to go. They get presents, toys, sweets, chocolate, outings, sleepovers, all with heaps of love. And they are appreciative, they have lovely manners and I am not biased at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Richard and Mandy have gone to Thailand to try to bring joy to some other children. Children who have no parents, no people who love them and cuddle them. Children who have no nice clothes, no toys and most of all, not enough to eat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our missions team will be visiting a Church that we support in Thailand, and also assisting the attached school with an English camp.&lt;br /&gt;They also will be travelling to Mai Sot, where there are thousands of refugees from Burma/Myanmar. Who knows, maybe somehow they will get across the border into Burma?&lt;br /&gt;There they will spread the love of God, show His love to people who have such enormous needs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, although Mandy was sad to be leaving 'her' girls behind, she knows they will have love and hugs and everything they need while she and Richard are away. And Mandy &amp;amp; Richard can devote their time to those with greatest need. The team of 6 people were excited to be going, and we prayed for God to use them in whatever way He can, to show His love in Thailand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard the other day that every second, a child dies somewhere in the world. How tragic.&lt;br /&gt;It makes me think, what more can I do? My heart aches for children in need.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/588353684797693828-8118039068915091115?l=katsaturday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katsaturday.blogspot.com/feeds/8118039068915091115/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=588353684797693828&amp;postID=8118039068915091115' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/588353684797693828/posts/default/8118039068915091115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/588353684797693828/posts/default/8118039068915091115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katsaturday.blogspot.com/2008/07/children.html' title='Children'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05522856517333725794</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SG38y29gYNI/AAAAAAAAF5Q/Qco45DYQID4/S220/Kathryn.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SHXwQTMNEiI/AAAAAAAAF50/z-IRyWqvBp4/s72-c/DSC02228.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-588353684797693828.post-3607025565344745490</id><published>2008-07-09T08:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-09T08:49:32.788+08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Baby</title><content type='html'>So Nicole Kidman and Keith Urban have their new baby, a little girl called Sunday Rose Kidman Urban.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the baby was born on Monday in the USA (Tuesday here in Australia). I wonder why they called her Sunday? I'm sure there is a story there that the media will research.&lt;br /&gt;Clever people on the current affairs shows are already saying the child's name sounds like 'Sunday Roast' - how awful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/588353684797693828-3607025565344745490?l=katsaturday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katsaturday.blogspot.com/feeds/3607025565344745490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=588353684797693828&amp;postID=3607025565344745490' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/588353684797693828/posts/default/3607025565344745490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/588353684797693828/posts/default/3607025565344745490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katsaturday.blogspot.com/2008/07/new-baby.html' title='New Baby'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05522856517333725794</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SG38y29gYNI/AAAAAAAAF5Q/Qco45DYQID4/S220/Kathryn.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-588353684797693828.post-1954966237566120183</id><published>2008-07-04T19:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-04T19:32:34.146+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A reason for the Blog</title><content type='html'>I never thought I would have a Blog.&lt;br /&gt;Then someone said, 'Why don't you start a Blog?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'What about?' I thought. 'Who would want to read my thoughts?'&lt;br /&gt;Well, we'll see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I called this Saturday's Child because I was born on a Saturday and when I was a child we used to say the rhyme about what day of the week people were born.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was little I wondered if it was true, and hoped it was not!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then later I wondered if it had any influence on how we turn out as adults. Not because the rhyme is true, but whether &lt;em&gt;knowing the rhyme&lt;/em&gt;, has an influence on us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You don't know the rhyme! OK then...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Monday's child is fair of face,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tuesday's child is full of grace,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Wednesday's child is full of woe,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Thursday's child has far to go.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Friday's child is loving and giving,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Saturday's child works hard for a living,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;But the child born on the Sabbath Day,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Is fair and wise and good and gay. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;I always wanted to be a Sunday's child, but no, Saturday it was. In too much of a hurry as usual as I suppose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;So what day were you born? And is the rhyme true for you?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Something to think about. :-)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/588353684797693828-1954966237566120183?l=katsaturday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katsaturday.blogspot.com/feeds/1954966237566120183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=588353684797693828&amp;postID=1954966237566120183' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/588353684797693828/posts/default/1954966237566120183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/588353684797693828/posts/default/1954966237566120183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katsaturday.blogspot.com/2008/07/reason-for-blog.html' title='A reason for the Blog'/><author><name>Kathryn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05522856517333725794</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_40bYUN9TRfs/SG38y29gYNI/AAAAAAAAF5Q/Qco45DYQID4/S220/Kathryn.JPG'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry></feed>
