My Cat's Rescue

I watched ‘The Deep’ in a morose ‘when-I-watched-this-last-week-my-cat-was-here’ kind of way. When out of the blue I announced I was going for a walk to find her. Bearing in mind we'd already done this Saturday evening, early Sunday morning and the grumpy old man has since worn a furrow in the footpath with how many times he's walked round asking people if they've seen her.

We went down Bridge Street [it's a long way round yet] passing three cats on our way to the recreation ground. As soon as we got there I started whistling and shouting her name ... oooh, I was sure I could hear something on Heanor Haulage land.

We went round the corner toward the bridge still shouting and listening [between the trains - they were exceptionally loud that night], but I could no longer hear anything. Hmm, so that means she wasn't in one of the Asda containers.

The grumpy old man couldn't hear anything at all, was I going doolally? ‘Are you wearing your hearing aid?’ ... ‘No’ ... ‘Well we'll go back for it then, I need you to hear it too’.

Back home we went, there was a definite spring in my step now. The conversation on the way: ‘Are you sure it was her?’ ... ‘No, but it was definitely a cat in distress and why would it meow every time I shouted? It must be her’ ... ‘What shall we do if you're sure it's her?’ ... ‘Ask again tomorrow if we can go on HH land.’

We set off again, one of us armed with better hearing, I was striding out and the GOM was sort of lagging behind. By the time we got there, the GOM realised that we could have gone in the car - what was I thinking? He was exhausted, he's no spring chicken and he'd already covered miles [albeit the same few miles] looking for her.

 
He heard her before we even had chance to shout her name. That was it, we were both convinced - she was there.

Now, we just happened to know where there was a sneaky way onto HH land [having observed a bit of activity last weekend]. We went to check out this hole in the fence and before I knew where I was, I'd had one of my little ‘moments’ and was to be found tiptoeing across HH yard, leaving the GOM at the fence telling my rear quarters that I could be in trouble if I got caught … I was of course, wearing my ultra-bright-ideal-for-breaking-in-and-trespassing-cream-fleece.

I negotiated around the crane bits and across to the shunter ... whistled, shouted [whispered], no not here ... I made my way to the big green thing aka the old boiler, no not here ... off to the big red thing aka the diesel tank. Oh, I can hear her back toward the fence.

There was a HH trailer covered in tarpaulin, I whispered ‘Tia, are you in there?’ ... ‘Meow!!’

I pulled at the tarpaulin, and got it up far enough to see two huge eyes and her blue daisy collar in the torchlight. Bugger it! If there had been HH's old lights the next bit would have been easy [having since seen the photos of the trailer]. As it was I was practically working in the dark - the torch I was using was next to useless - and I couldn't find how to loosen the cover. I ended up struggling to hold it up with one hand and dragging the cat out with the other.

She started purring, even though I'd nearly dislocated all her joints pulling her out, she was a bag of bones, never very heavy at any time. As my neighbour has often put it 'Tia eats to live', where her cats 'live to eat'.

I made my way back along the crane parts, I shouted [in a loud whisper] to the GOM to tell him to shout back to direct me as I couldn't find where I needed to be ... oh a bit further yet ... and a bit more ... oh heck, a bit more ... then I turned to the fence stepping over and around scrap.
 

I reached the hole in pitch dark where I'd left poor old grumpy worrying. ‘You've never got her’ ... ‘I have’. He took her from me while I had an argument with the razor wire. It was just after this that the pain hit, I thought the top of my head was going to explode, I had to sit down, such was the pain. I think it must have been the build up of stress suddenly being released.

We made our way back home - again - it's a chuffing long way with a wriggly, purring cat, half of me wishes they'd hurry up with that ramp to the bridge [although doing the footpath is what scared her into hiding], the other half of me is dreading it being open for the dregs of Langley Mill to cause trouble again.

Half way up Bridge Street I could see my neighbour out with her torch, she was calling and listening at the storage containers just over from the ‘turnaround’ while it was quiet. She was delighted to see we'd got her back.

Tia was starving! I’ve never known her eat so much, there must have been water where she was as she didn’t want a drink. She smelt awful, a mixture of diesel and rubber, I helped her out by wiping her with damp kitchen towel, licking that muck off would have made her sick. I got no sleep that night, she was non-stop purring, washing, eating and then going to the loo - thank heaven for cat litter.

I'd just like to say that if we'd been allowed to go on HH land via Asda's bit, we'd have found her in minutes and although I've been somewhat scathing of HH [yes I have], we were always allowed to go and fetch her back by the gate man - this was whenever she threw a ‘why-did-you-abandon-me- [with the neighbour] -and-I'm-not-coming-back-so-there’ wobbly - he knew all the cats that routinely ‘hung out’ in the buildings and on the back yard. Hmm, I think I'd better apologise here to Mr HH for trespassing - and even though I'm not a rule breaker, I'd do it again if I had to.

I've just read and watched with horror that twat of a woman who deliberately put a cat into a wheelie bin, apparently - at the time of reading - this was not considered by the police to be a ‘criminal offence’, presumably leaving the RSPCA to foot the bill of any proceedings against her. I hope because of this couldn't care less attitude that there aren't a spate of copycat ‘non-criminal offences’ made toward cats or indeed any animals. At least my cat's imprisonment was not malicious.

Tia didn’t go out for three days ... Saturday morning, off she went ... tea-time, we're packed and waiting to take her to the seaside for some peace and quiet - like the good cat servants we are. ‘Lets take some Asda photos and look for her, I can't stand waiting here any longer’. Half way between the bridge and the recreation ground … ‘Meow!?! This little head pops out of a rusty old girder/pipe doo dah next to the fence on HH land. I just give in …

More Chaos In Langley Mill

Not satisfied with setting fire to the recycling bins on Cromford Road, some idiot decided that it would be jolly good fun to have a bonfire on the land behind the recycling bins ... where there's lots of gas cylinders - result Bridge Street is completely closed off [with tape] no-one can go anywhere, several houses have been evacuated. The cylinders may now need to be hosed down for between 8-24 hours .

Rumour: The Napier and Mill pubs plus the land where the fire occurred is owned by gypsies.

Makes me glad to have escaped to the rainy seaside with the grumpy old man and my cat ...


Update: Panic over, everyone back home ...

Broken Promises?

Hmm, now how can I put this? Ahem, remember all those promises I made in my last post ... well, I don't have to keep them. I've just reread it to check how it was worded - yes, some of it was cringe making, soppy drivel. So bad I nearly deleted it, but hey that's not fair, I sometimes need reminding how stupid I am over a cat [ah bless, she's adorable].

But, oh dear - because of a mere technicality, I can carry on writing drivel ... so get used to it.

Although:

1. I haven't yet played solitaire on my windows mobile phone [my fingers are starting to twitch].
2. I've been to have my hair cut - oh, by at least a millimetre. Hmm, what other promises did I make? I'll just have another look ...
3. HALF MY WAGES!?! EVERY WEEK!! Chuffing nora, I didn't even put how long for!

Well, I've already made a donation at the 'Missing Pets Register' and I'll cruise t'Interweb in the next few days to see who I think most deserves half of my NEXT weeks wage, because even though I am exempt from keeping my promises as Tia DID NOT actually come home, I feel it's the least I can do. I'll also buy cat and dog food the next few times I go shopping at Morrisons to put in the donation bins.

I'll just say now that I really had no intention of actually publishing my last post, I wrote it just for me ... right up until someone took it upon himself - egged on by his equally twattish buddies no doubt - to phone me [number withheld] to say he'd got Tia ... one day this bunch of dillops may grow up and realise how cruel that was ... nevertheless, it was at that point that I inserted the phone call into the post and decided to publish.

I'll write all about her return - just as soon as I can get rid of this tension headache - in the next exciting instalment of my blog ...

My Cat Tia Is Missing

This will hopefully be my last blog post ... it's just one of many promises I've made over the last few days, if only my cat comes back.

The first promise was that if I was to win the game of solitaire I was playing on my mobile phone [Saturday], then she was sure to come back. I won the game and subsequently promised not to waste any more time playing it ... I have kept this promise.

The second promise was that if she was to return by the end of the day [Sunday] then I would have my hair cut short ... I am growing it, it's my one vanity, it's thick and curly [although insane at this point of growing].

The third promise was to donate half my wages to charities every week if she was to return by the end of the day [yesterday].

I have now registered her as a missing pet, it took me three days to do this because I refused to believe she was gone.

She was thoroughly stressed out both Thursday and Friday mornings, they were breaking the ground up [very close to us] in an earth shattering way, ready for the new footpath to the bridge. As soon as I got up [she feels safe while I'm in bed] she ran into the back bedroom and jumped through the window onto the kitchen roof, this was Friday morning. When we're home she routinely goes out for the day but knocks on the door at tea-time.

Yesterday was awful ... our main hope was that she'd gone to hide in one of the Asda storage containers, and of course no-one was working Sunday. The grumpy old man [who incidentally is as upset as I am], asked on the building site if he could go with one of them to check to see if she was hiding in a container - on Heanor Haulage land, where she's always hung out. We've had to go more than once to fetch her back when she's been left at home alone in the last few years.

The GOM was told he couldn't go on the site, but the site manager said he'd check himself - fair enough, it's a busy site, although the containers are well away from the Asda building - I can practically reach one of them [with a fairly long stick] over my neighbours fence. The main reason the GOM wanted to check himself is because if she is hiding in one of them, she'll hide from anyone unfamiliar but make a heck of a row if he calls her name and whistles her from close by.

I'm listening so hard for the jingle of her bell that my ears are aching, this isn't helped by my neighbours cats who jingle up and down the entry every five minutes, although it's a slightly different tone. I'd decided to lie down for five minutes yesterday afternoon - I'd been pacing from room to room, half the night and all day, up and downstairs to check through the windows - when I heard meowing at the back door, I shot up and ran to look through the window, convinced she was back, only to see my neighbours cat [he's been inherited and not sure where he lives yet]. This did nothing for my headache and I wept buckets.

I know there are many people who have had far worse happen to them, but I'm one of those sad, childless women [not by choice] who has always had a pet as a baby substitute - I've had dogs die and I've mourned them but the disappearance of my cat is agony.

The list of things I miss about her are endless, but the first thing on it, is how she insisted I put my arm around her in bed at night, and if she woke to find I was facing the wrong way [towards the GOM], she'd pat me on the shoulder - getting a bit more insistent with each pat [claws], until I woke up and turned back to face her.

What I really didn't need was some smart alec bastard phoning me up from Queen Street rec to tell me that they'd got my cat and had found her at Tesco Heanor! I was half expecting calls like this as the GOM has just put put posters up about her being missing.

My last promise if she comes back is to stop annoying people by writing this blog. So if you see a chunky woman with very, very short blonde hair, dressed in rags [due to the charitable donations] ... but with a huge grin walking around Langley Mill, it'll be me - with Tia safe at home ...

..................................................................................


Update ... Tia is home!!

Recycling Madness

We've received yet another letter from the council about Asda's latest plans - namely a new public seating area [end of Cromford Road] and a recycling area.

Now, I'm all for recycling - we do our bit religiously, this is why I'm able to tell people when the recycling bins on Cromford Road have been set fire to. These bins are not a million miles away from Asda's newly proposed recycling site near their petrol station.

While I commend Asda [along with most supermarkets] for taking an initiative in recycling, I do take umbrage at their assumption that we don't recycle already - both at home and in the aforementioned slightly singed and melted bins.

Asda say in their latest proposal ... and I quote: "Adding the recycling area to the site will aid Langley Mill to become more environmentally friendly". If these smart arse planners were to nip down to our unenvironmentally friendly Langley Mill, they may have noticed our top of the range, colour coded recycling bins already in situ.

But, yes I get it, most people who recycle on a large scale do it on their supermarket trip - unlike us who have all on remembering our shopping bags. I often stand shuffling my feet at the checkout in Morrisons, asking apologetically for wafer thin carrier bags ... because my super strong, arm-wrenching, industrial sized shopping bags are sat in the middle of the kitchen floor, where I'd put them moments before leaving the house [yes I probably did trip over them on my way out - it's an age thing].

Of course, receiving this latest letter from the council about Asda's planned recycling area, made me think about the tin-pot recycling system we put up with now.

Our council DEMANDS that we recycle our household rubbish [washed they don't want mucky recycling], using the crappy yellow and orange tubs [complete with drainage holes in the bottoms]. For some reason they don't want to collect our plastic ... which is odd because most households seem to have more plastic than other recycling. I can only assume that because it's light but often bulky, it would be cutting into profits - so we go on burying it in landfill sites where it lasts - well a lot longer than we do.

And before Asda think they're getting off scot free in this little moan, think again - if they and the other supermarkets insisted that less crap was used in packaging - I'm sure they're in a position to do this - there wouldn't be so much rubbish [recyclable or not] in the first place, and then they needn't be so smug when applying for planning permission to have a recycling area to 'aid us peasants to be more environmentally friendly'. Yes, I do admit that sentence got right up my nose.

My parents, sisters and niece [three different councils] each have two full sized bins with a couple of exciting new innovations installed on them as standard ... lids and wheels. They aren't expected to sort through their recycling [although doing so doesn't bother me], it is collected on a fortnightly basis after being wheeled to the required place - they don't have to struggle with blue bags of sopping wet paper [complete with several generations of slugs and snails], orange bags of cardboard that have mysteriously quadrupled in weight [because of the same rain that wet the paper], or squelch back into the house with cat food scented jeans and socks, because when you've carried the recycling bin to the street - you find there's always one tin that's tipped up to dribble fishy water down your leg.

Well, not me obviously - but I've heard the grumpy old man muttering about it ...

March 2011 Update:

Someone's nicked our recycling bins on Cromford Road - and Asda hasn't started recycling yet. Not very good is it council? We're overflowing with plastic here. Bring them Back!

Goodbye Langley Mill's Bookies

Oh dear, we have to say goodbye to the bookies next Tuesday. I asked my source - I have to use terms like that, it makes me feel more important - when the Post Office is to close. But, as you may have guessed, the PO wasn't uppermost in the grumpy old man's mind when he received the bad news about the bookies closing ... Righto, he's been to make enquiries and the Post Office won't be closing until the new one is ready.

 

There's been a bit of stupid vandalism in Langley Mill [nothing new there], when the big recycling bins were set fire to on the car park on Cromford Road [also a fence was burnt on Aldreds Lane]. On the same night, a wheelie bin from Bridge street was moved to the Asda fence in the 'turnaround' at the top corner, we don't know if anyone broke into the site or not.

Work seems to be progressing well on the roundabout, quite a lot of tarmac has gone down. The BT chamber is sort of still a bit holey but I'm sure they'll get their finger out!

Right onto rumours, there aren't many although I've heard several versions about the same subject, namely CJ Cars, and before anyone gets their knickers in a twist, I didn't make any up myself:

1. CJ cars has closed for good [retired].
2. CJ Cars is just waiting until the road is re-opened.
3. CJ Cars was hoping for Asda to buy them out and they changed their mind.
4. Asda has paid CJ Cars enormous sums in compensation.
5. CJ Cars has sold out to a well known fast food restaurant.
6. The Mill Pub is to be demolished.
7. Netto will be the 'George' dept.
8. The road through Langley Mill be will opened on Tuesday 10th August - yes, it made me laugh too.

And now on to much better and far less boring things ... I've bought myself a brand new toy - and just look what it can do ...

Yes - it can bend fences ... Int it terrific? And it's got 20x zoom, ha ha - there's nowhere left to hide ...

Back Home To Large Piles and Big Jams

Well, we've had mountains on the front and now we have hillocks on the back. It seems that RG Group are yet again rearranging piles of earth and now stashing them behind us - which means that as well as construction noise on the front, there's 'let's unload this and shove it here' noise [from before 7.30am] on the back, it's relentless - bleep-bloody-bleep - it's as bad [if not worse] as when H-effin-H and their pain-in-the-arse buddies were here!

So, as a complete change from living in the middle of a scrap yard, we now live in the middle of a building site whinge, whinge, moan.

They've now put the sides on the Asda building, it's not what you'd call pretty - yet, and my view of the back end of Netto has gone, I'm really, really sad about that - not. But, oh boo hoo, there's hardly any trees to be seen.

We went shopping to Eastwood on Saturday and when we came back were astonished to see the queue of cars trying to get onto the bypass. The queue extended as far as I could see down Upper Dunstead Road [as we flashed past at 30mph]. I have to wonder if people had been made aware that anything van sized or less could get out of the bottom of Cromford Road [turning left] all weekend. We noticed that there wasn't much traffic coming our way so can only assume that it was either a brand new idea or a big secret.

Having since been that way around whilst visiting friends, the fact that Cromford Road was open had obviously been Langley Mill's best kept secret - or a mistake - as the signs still stated that Cromford Road was only open at peak times of 5.30pm - 9.30am - and the road was indeed closed again this morning. Tut, still a case of nobody telling anybody else what's going on - and I can't be relied upon to relay information because ... well, I'm unreliable at the best of times ...