Fat Cats

Only this very morning, Andy and I made a revolutionary discovery regarding the complex field of research into why some people gain weight.

It has NOTHING to do with with the making and eating of jammy lammingtons and double chocolate lammingtons this week. Not has it anything to do with a complete lack of exercise because of the cold 'n' wet 'n' windy weather of the last few days.

No! It's CATS!

You see, Andy was making bread this morning. And he decided to make an instructional video on the making of the bread (more of which later). And I was lurking in the background, mostly watching and sometimes chipping in with an off-camera observation, like 'Is that nice sunflower oil you are using, or horrid olive oil?' and 'Do you wear the flour you've got up the front of your T-shirt for the rest of the day, or do you add it back into the mix?'

It was like Fanny and Johnny Craddock all over again, only funnier and with less make-up.

And during one of the kneading processes I happened to comment on the fact that all three cats were watching the bread-making with interest. (Well, two of them were; one of them was asleep). And Andy said, 'Of course, cats don't knead bread, they knead people,' refering to the feline habit of padding laps with their little feet and going into cat Zen mode. And it was a very short synapse of the brain that took us from kneading bread to make it rise, to cats kneading people and making them rise!!

So we aren't actually little fat puddings of people- we are, in fact, RISING, because our cats are kneading us too much!! And if we stopped them kneading us, we would be as slim as racing snakes (more of which later, also) by the end of the week. But we aren't going to stop the cats kneading us, because it's a cat comfort thing, and to prevent them in their pounding and kneading would be tantamount to animal cruelty, although it would save a few extra holes in jumpers and trouser legs.

Of course, if you don't have any cats and you are carrying a few extra pounds, then you cannot use this as an excuse. If this is the case, you can a) either get over it and carry on the diet and exercising malarkey or b) adopt a cat, let them pad away and continue to eat jammy lammingtons safe in the knowledge they are NOT contributing to weight gain.

So, more on snakes. Today is Chinese New Year's Day Year of the Snake! And I am a Year of the Snake person.
'You don't look like a snake,' says Primrose.
''Unless you are a snake that has swallowed a duvet,' says Daisy.
'I've just explained all that,' I say. 'I am RISING. It's the KNEADING of the CATS.'
'You've eaten a cat??' says Daisy.
'I thought you were vegetarian,' says Primrose.
'I am, ' I say, 'and if you count the cats they are all present and correct. What are you doing in here anyway?'
'Well,' says Daisy,' we heard you were making a video on how to make bread...'
'...and that you are going to publish it later on the blog,' says Primrose.
'...which means you are going public with your presentation,' says Daisy.
'Media tarts,' says Primrose.
'I beg your pardon?!' says I. 'This has nothing to do with Andy and I being discovered as a natural comedy double act and being given a prime time radio show. This is to do with showing people how easy it is to make bread in a humorous way. And to be quite honest,' I plough on, before the hens can butt in with more veiled insults, 'with all this ready meal horse lasagne business going on, the more people can be encouraged to make their own food so they know what's actually in it, the better, don't you think?'

The hens give this idea due consideration for all of, oh, three seconds.

'We suppose so,' they say.
'But,' adds Daisy, 'do you know what's in the bread flour you use?'
'Ha!' says Primrose. 'Could be anything, couldn't it? Ground beetles. Sieved chihuahua. Dust!'

'Oh, for goodness' sake,' I say. 'I think it is probably wheat. In fact, I am certain it's wheat. And until we are in a position to grow, harvest and mill our own wheat, then I am going to have to trust that the bag of flour from Sainsbugs, labelled flour and looking floury like flour is, in fact, flour. I think if it was beetles, chihuahua or dust then the bread would come out a bit funny, don't you think? And you still haven't explained why you're here.'

'Ah,' says Daisy. 'We have come to offer our services as your media agents. Here's our card.'

And she hands me a blank piece of cardboard.

'There's nothing on this card,' says I. 'It's blank.'
'Sort of reflects your attempts at media stardom, doesn't it?' says Primrose. 'Ahahahahahahahaha!'

'Oooh,' I say. 'Someone had nails for breakfast.'

'Anyway,' say the hens. 'If you ever need professional publicists, let us know. And we'll fill in the card.'

And off they trot into the garden.

And you, dear readers, can judge our worth as media presenters later on, when the final video is published. Watch this space! (Well, not this space...it'll be another space...on another blog page....oh, shut up, Denise!)