Minx jinx #3

‘Do you know why her mouth is so pink?’ the other one asked about Minx to the vet.

Ahhhhh

‘No, I’ve seen dogs with it but never cats’ the vet replied.

Being two prior non pet owners we didn’t follow up. Bad move.

Minx got injected, shaved and sprayed with blue antibiotic stuff and we for good measure bought some ‘kill the lice’ shampoo – cue the hilarious Benny Hill chase of the cat around the flat as we tried to bathe her (told you non pet people). She did humour us by sweetly succumbing to a wet towel rub, but that didn’t help her pink mouth, and it was looking worse.

We went back to the vet, which is when we found out that there are actually two vets, both very nice, but only one clearly knows what she’s talking about, and yup she was the one that we hadn’t seen. Immediately, she diagnosed poor minx with having a female indolent ulcer,  but what did that mean?

Answer: A shed loads of drugs to stuff down her neck, and a lot more Benny Hill.

Minx jinx #2

She was diagnosed with lice.

Nice.

Minx jinx #1

Very cute in full health

What to do with the cat was a pressing issue, in the back of our minds and not something we wanted to face. We’d inherited her from our neighbours who’d left who’d inherited her from the previous people who’d lived in our flat who’d inherited her from the previous owner and original person who started the whole mess in the first place, the poor animal passed from pillar to post – though lovely how everyone’s tried to look after her. We considered bringing her to the UK but between needing to get her micro-chipped and inoculated against rabies (both not available in Seychelles necessitating them being sent from the UK), plus not knowing where we’d be living and likely to have to rent, it made no sense. Not helping our cause was some problem with her fur, it was falling out and she had scabs – could hardly advertise her in the paper ‘please have our lovely cute scabby cat, go on go on go on’. So we took her to the vet.

Packing boxes

is tedious.

Social Seychelles Jumble Jamboree #3

I’d been sensible – the Jumble Sale wasn’t set to start until 1pm, though the other one and I arrived about 11.30 with our stuff. A couple of guys had already set

Items for sale that have previously had an owner

up and we spread out our paltry offerings that were then dwarfed by the mass of stuff that the boss’ wife had to sell, which was a good thing, the punters came and they went away more than satisfied. I had no intention of buying anything, it being somewhat counter productive as we were meant to be getting rid of stuff, but – of course there was going to be one – the Nature Seychelles stall were selling binoculars. I mean come on, 150SCR a pair and housed in a natty real brown leather bag, what’s a girl to do? I blew our profits there and then. The other one sadly missed the point complaining that the binoculars were foggy – I reminded him we already had a pair anyway. I think I only added to his confusion. I also bought a necklace from one of A’s mates as a keepsake from the island I informed the other one, plunging us into whatever the jumble sale equivalent of negative equity is. A colleague pulled me up for selling free DVD’s for 5SCR – I mean 20p honestly, and anyway I argued, the person will value it more for paying something even it is Conan the Barbarian.

Highlight of the day was seeing the new baby of one of the newbies who was soooo cute though being left literally holding the baby as they packed up I did feel a little self conscious, like do you spend the whole time cooing at the baby or is it okay to stop and ignore it, you can’t constantly talk gibberish can you (some, the other one say, might argue that you can)? I did try to desist, but it felt totally wrong so I showed it my new binocular bag instead. Her, I mean, I showed her the bag. I think she liked it.

Shock and awe…perhaps not

The eve of the Jumble Sale and instead of being tucked up with my cocoa, curlers and a good book, the other one and I were out to say goodbye to my ex boss and his family as they took their leave of the island  – so of course one has to put on a good show. The night got off to a rollicking start with the other one with a cob on moaning the whole way there about driving and having to go out, a situation only resolved once a cold Seybrew was shoved into his hand (though I did have in mind other places). There were loads of people there and so I set about mingling, details of which I shan’t bore with you, except to say that I ended up holding two beers on account of over zealous resupply (by others I promise), the student in me finding it an anathema to put one down even when I somehow found myself on the makeshift dance floor, swooping, swirling and gyrating like I really didn’t care (cos I didn’t), stumbling over plastic cups that the crowd of ex work colleagues laughing at me because they thought I was drunk couldn’t actually see, and generally enjoying myself thoroughly. I was merry and unleashed, and you see in Seychelles I’ve done a good impression of pretending not to be. I might actually leave the island and people think I’m boring and hate going out. I might have to explode that myth at our leaving do…

Social Seychelles Jumble Jamboree #2

It’s a thorny issue – where in fact does jumble end and tat begin?

Do you include the smart pink pin striped shirt that you’ve kept but not worn as you burnt it with the iron but always thought you’d could salvage it by just trimming it  and re -hemming, haven’t ever done it, but maybe somebody else would? Or is that just trampy?

What about the white shirt that is perfectly fine apart from the yellow stains around the collar and armpits FROM THE DEODORANT?

Slightly grubby tea towels?

Chipped mugs?

Opened, ‘I tried it once but don’t like it’ toiletries?

Any Little Britain DVD?

I’m not for a moment suggesting that I was attempting to saturate the Jumble Sale with all or any of these such things. I’m just putting the issue out there is all.