Concrete

I’ve been so naughty but, do you know what?  I really don’t care!  I’m a rebel!  Rebel without a claws!  Actually that’s not true, I have several claws but it was a pun asking to be made.  What did I do I hear you ask!  Well, Bill (Liz’s dad, who I’ve blogged about before) is building an extension to the annex.  I know, I know, he only finished the annex in January but he has boot room envy (we have a little boot room in the farmhouse) so they are building an extra room on the front of the annex.  Bill calls it a porch but I know what it’s really for.  Anne (Liz’s mum) is going to put a TV in there and when Bill wants to watch football (or anything else which Anne is not interested in), that’s where he’ll be watching it!  In the porch.  So he got the concrete pourers in again to fill in the foundation and when they had carefully smoothed it all out and gone away for the night . . . wait for it . . . I walked all over it!  It was brilliant.  I’m not a terribly heavy cat (I’ve been doing the 5:2 diet) so I was pretty impressed – some of my paw prints are over an inch deep.  That’s 2.5 cm.  Brilliant.  One of my favourite things about Bill is his love of concrete.  He is always laying it concrete plinths and paths around the farm, so I am looking forward to some more concrete stomping now I have discovered what fun it is.  Don’t tell Bob.