Fast Thursday.

A quick lot of Frankie photos. The most handsome boy was clearly posing. Then I put him on the table to play with some wrapping paper! He loves the stuff, but I didn't get any good shots of him rolling around in it. D:

Santa Paws.

Unsurprisingly, I spent yesterday wrapping presents! I had a friend bring all hers over so I could indulge myself in the oh so glorious task. I really like wrapping, you know? And when I was done, I decided I was not done at all. My dearest Frank and Bee didn't have stockings of their own! So I foraged some fabric (it was blue or brown - the choice was obvious), and got to work. Billie's glittered initial was silver, because Frankie's was always going to be gold. He's such a princess. Now they can check their stockings on Christmas day, and quit ripping up the pile of presents I have wrapped and stacked.

Both stockings, hanging from my bedroom window.

The Baby Bees. And Franks.

A short post in terms of writing, but with quite a few pictures! The baby photos! It's currently twenty past one in the morning, and I really should have been in bed a while ago, but I was too hooked on Assassin's Creed: Brotherhood to budge. Can you blame me? Earlier, when I was making dinner, Billie was playing with a huntsman! God, they freak me out. I am terrified of large spiders. Anyway, she was batting at it with her paws, and it was rearing! Then it jumped on her face. F***. That freaked me out so much! But she just shook it off and kept playing until I pulled her off it and guided it outside. She's a gentle thing, Billie. She plays, but doesn't hurt. Unlike her brother, master bird catcher. 

Enjoy! Labeled left to right. Forgive the lesser photo quality. I was using a Canon something or other, only 6 megapixels. It was pretty good for its price, really. 

 Woody, Billie, Frankie, Buzz.

Billie. 

Billie's paw. 

Frankie, Billie. 

Billie. 

Billie, Billie! 

Keyboard cat Frankie, the day after I brought him home. I hadn't decided to get a second cat yet. 

Frankie, Billie.

Fish Tangles.

An odd little fact: They know. Every night when I head to the kitchen, open the cupboard, get out their food, they know I'm doing it! Despite me having left them fast asleep on the couch, they're in the kitchen a moment later, winding their way through my legs, crying "Dinner, dinner!" I think cats might have six senses. Those five standard ones, and the fish sense. They then literally race to their bowls. First there, first fed. Or so they think. I always feed Frankie first, because if I didn't he'd just push Billie away from her bowl anyway, in a crazed fish-frenzy.

More photos from Sunday! This time an equal amount Frank to Bee. 

 "Biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiird. Yummy yummy bird." Frankie wishes he could fly. Catching birds is his favourite sport, now that he's master of his bell collar.

It took a lot of noise to make her look up from her rolling! Bumble Billie is serious very about her rolling. Have I mentioned she comes in about every half an hour for hugs? Well, before the hugs she rolls on the carpet next to my feet. Every time.

Perhaps I should put her in there (guinea pig cage), one day. When the grass isn't so long she'd get tangled and lost. Curious thing she is, she'd have a wonderful time, as long as I didn't cover her exit. Don't look at me like that, I'm not so cruel!

Hey there, Fatty! What're you doing? ...Lounging? When are you ever not lounging? I was wondering, a few weeks ago, why he's as chubby as he is despite spending all his days outside. Well, it turns out he spends his days under the house, lounging. Snoozing. All those things men are good for.

Partners in crime! Billie caught lounging, too. The trend caught on, and I joined them. I was lying in the grass next to the path they're on when I took this photo. 

A Quick Stop.

Women should be given paid leave from life once a month. I woke up this morning to a vicious gut ache, and nothing near as cute as this. A quick post - just to drop of a few pictures. Perhaps next will be their baby photos!

Frankle Dinkle, lounging with his Jamie Oliver cookbook. He's always been fond of food.

 Kookaburra! He and his mate have taken to sitting on this wire, a few metres from the window. I've been trying to get a decent photo of him for ages! But everytime I open the window, he flies away! So I conceded, and took one through the window instead.

Sunnier On A Sunday.

This time a sunny Spring Sunday outside with the kittens and kittens and bundles of cat! My Frank and Bee have a way of making lounging outside in the long grass seem the best thing ever - and when they're lounging with me, it really is. I managed to get a few pictures of them wrestling! But they're annoyingly blurry, as my camera isn't particularly fond of motion (auto-focus isn't fast enough). Billie was still enough for photos! For more than one photo! This is success at its best. Frankie was still too, but when is he ever not?

On the table, chewing on a rubber band! I don't let Billie Bee chew on small things when I'm not around - she tends to try to eat them. I found her once with a ribbon half down her throat, poor kitty. D:

That thing Bee's standing on? An old guinea pig cage. Pig (that was his name) ran away one day when I was moving his cage, and I haven't seen him since. A shame he didn't come back - he'd adore that ridiculously long grass growing through the roof of his home. Tasty tasty Pig food.

Oh, Fatty Franks. How'd you get up there? What was that? The mean human put you in the tree? Okay, so maybe I did. But only for a minute and I got him right down! He's not as much of a climber as his sister. That's not to say he doesn't climb trees, but when he does it's usually because he chased Bee up there. When he was an itty-bitty baby kitty, about two months old, he escaped my grasp and scrambled up a pine tree! It was a small one, luckily, and my brother got him down - manly man of a cat was crying the whole time.

That Sunny Spring Saturday.

Some photos from yesterday! In case you're interested, I use a Nikon D3100 camera for all my pictures. I only got it in August, and I'm not particularly talented, but hey, the photos turned out pretty okay, I think! So, between episodes of season two of Dexter (it needed to be rewatched), I ventured outside to play with Frank and Bee (to avoid confusion, Frankie's collar is red, and Billie's is blue). Damn Spring weather was sunny like Summer. Not something I welcome, being a Winter fan. Being too cold is bearable. Being too hot? Well, that's not. I didn't stay out for too long with them. Less than half an hour, in truth. Tasmania. Stay out for more than half an hour when there's sun, and you'll be red as blood orange. 

Frankie, the most handsome cat of handsome cats, prince of princes and princess of the drama, loves being outside. He was rolling on some steps when I took this - poked his head around to see what weird thing the human was doing this time. 

He really is a photogenic cat. The fatty fat boy (he's a giant compared to his sister) likes to laze about in the grass, whereas his sister won't stay still! Here, he's actually watching her. Watching and waiting. Waiting for the right moment to pounce!

 Billie. I put her in the tree. In my defence, she loves it up there. She had been in it earlier, before I brought my camera out, and I just needed a shot! Sadly this was the best I got. She kept wriggling and moving, jumping to branch after branch after limb after branch. And look! Isn't that cute?! She has a little white spot on her chest. Aside from that, she's dark as night, and a darker black than her brother.

His chest hair is growing back! Frank's well on his way to being the manly man of a cat he used to be, before his abscess. 

Pot plants. What's not to love? They add a cute, quaint, calm, cottage-like feel to every garden. I particularly love the blue of this pot! And that it seems to be full of wild daisies, rather than the hidden cactus it's meant to house. Hush, now. I never claimed to be a master gardener. ...Or a decent one.

And last of all, my house! The TARDIS blue box with another ocean view. Sure, plenty of people pay more money than I'll ever own for a sparkling ocean view, but having lived literally across the road from the beach twice now, and having had a Derwent River view from a house I lived in... five years ago? It's really nothing new to me. That said, in the hotter morning hours when the sun is at its brightest, the water really does catch alight, and it never fails to make me smile. Maybe I'll show you the view sometime.

The Beginning.

I've had a blog before. For about a week. It didn't go so well, I had no idea what to do. This time, I'm doing it for me. For the fun of regular writing, pictures of cats, quirky bits and bobs I take a fancy to.

So, I have two cats. Frankie (male), and Billie (female). Named for Frank Sinatra and Billie Piper, of course. These pitch black siblings were born a few days over a year ago, and they've still got a lot of growing to do. Considering Frankie's already bigger than your average cat, the result's going to be interesting. I wouldn't mind a Corgi sized cat. Seriously, that would rock! He'd be like my own panther cub.

Frankie, or Fatty Franks as he's commonly called, is a right bastard. He purrs, cuddles, and then punches me in the face without warning! Cats, eh? They're all jerks.

And this sweet little bundle of cat is Billie. She's the exception to the jerk rule. Billie's never cranky, never mean. She comes in ever half hour for cuddles, in fact.

I spent this sunny Spring Saturday (between episodes of Dexter) in the garden with the two of them, slinking through the grass, climbing trees, pouncing each other and wrestling. Nothing they don't usually do, but it never gets old.