The Disruption Begins
Well might you ask. We certainly did. The news, from the point of view of me’n'Marmers, is not wholly good. We are told that our tenuous tenure in the land of our birth is hingin’ oan a shoogly nail. The reason for the recent trip Sooth of our parental units was to secure the lease on a hoose in the Kingdom of Fife. Sadly, that is not an island, and therefore, our moving there may lead to the end of my Flying Cat blog as we ken it. “Boo-hoo”, I hear you cry. Oh do remember to keep a pinch of salt handy Dear Readers
. Thank you.
On being released from our Baskets of Torment, we rushed off to sort out the Scents of Rolling Acres (not to be confused with the Scents of Soaplady, consummate islandblogger) and noticed the eye-gripping acid green of rosas rugosa, canina and alba; the soft glaucous green of the Swedish whitebeams with their pale ghostly undersides; the growing giant wartiness of gunnera manicata; the unfurling tangreen croziers of ferns reaching for the clear blue sky; the lush foliage of hardy geraniums - the mournful deep purple of phaeum ‘the widow’ and the shocking pink of macrorizum, whose foliage smells so zingily peppery when crushed; the efflorescence of duckweed on Pond 2, tadpole multistorey; the graceful freshness of pheasant’s eye narcissus; the stunning scarlet of the very first oriental poppy and the bronzed feathers of fennel, like the arsefeathers of an emu.
Two frantic sundrenched days of hacking back and tidying up and three trips to the dump with full trailer loads, resulted in two rather pink people and an uncharacteristically tidy Rolling Acres.
Flying Shed is mostly packed into fishboxes. Strimmer 2 died a week ago and was replaced today from the Scarth Centre - one Last Visit among many.
Bookcases are being denuded of books. Craft stuff is being packed into plastic boxes. A Work In Progress has its very own container, in the hope it might be continued while in Lower Largo.
Two fishboxes are filled with plants, either grown from seed or lifted and split.
We are to be drugged without so much as a by-your-leave when The Time Comes. That it should come to this. 
31 Comments
Transitory Discomfort sounds like a very good blog title. Thank you MC - a stoic if ever there was one!
And your destination, FC? Come tae Falkirk,” its no as bad as you think”- could be a new slogan…
Ohhhh… how sad that you’re leaving! Maybe you can stay on IB as an honorary IB’er?
Packing … flitting … I envy you not as it is a mammoth task. Then when you arrive at your destination you find you sold/gave away a book, or some little item, that you wished you hadn’t the long search begins to find another. 
I read all the kerfluffle about bloggers living ‘elsewhere’ and declined to comment, but am now adding my token to the discussion, I hope that rules can be bent, or stretched so you can stay … I mean how many sites have a feline blogging! 
or a link published to another site you may continue with entertaining us.
I do wonder though about your reference to bronze fennel and emu arse feathers in the same breath 
I am sad to hear you are leaving the islands, I hope you keep blogging as
you are very smart for a cat The Kingdom of Fife is the destination
of choice?. I hope you have many good years wherever you live and you have nine lives too. I am beginning to wonder about the Islanders leaving
Is it the beginning of another clearance? You can always drop in on Landlady and check her working girls out .
FC + Marmers will always have nine lives harryd,they are invincible as are pu’s
All that packing to do and then—-unpack all the damn stuff 
nightmare
Nice one FC, you had me double checking that Socks was still in the vicinity! Yup, still haven’t lost him. Hope the flitting goes well. ‘Purr’
memories of moving … disorientated … laid bare … in pieces … scattered over boxes … dreadfully sad and so not sure, even though you’re sure you are … hesitantly closing one door and that awful limbo of darkness until another is (slightly) unwillingly opened … settling in … can’t get comfortable, everything feels wrong … but then the sun comes out … and it all changes imperceptibly … and then suddenly, you’re home again …
hope your shoogly nail holds … and fare ye (all) well on your journey …!
If your PUs are shifting to Lower Largo, then you as a literary kitty will no doubt be aware of the connection with Alexander Selkirk AKA Robinson Crusoe and his adventures on an island. I rest my case.
Good luck little felines, and take the drugs - it has been my lifelong policy to ‘just say yes’ to anything pharmaceutical going. You wouldn’t want to have to suffer a seasick Marmers in a confined space, would you?
If you’re ferrying to Aberdeen then perhaps the drugs might be an idea. The ‘hold’ has kennels but that means dogs. We were once told that if the pus speak nicely to the crew they will allow them to bring you kits upstairs and sit the baskets just behind the info desk. Possibly preferable to being amonst cars and/or stress-yer-boots yapping dugs.
Otherwise - the drugs just disorientate the kits which might prove to be more stressful than having all your wits about you but just not able to apply them anywhere. MC was given a large dog cage to sit in for the 12 hour journey (two ferrys) to my parent’s farm before the 9 hours trip (no ferry) to Devon - sans drugges. The extra space meant he could move around more and he seemed okay. He now travels twice-yearly to said farm for his holidays and settles down quite quickly once on the road.
Trust your pu’s instincts and I’m sure you’ll be fine.
As for exiled islanders - I’ve *tried* NOT to post, now we’re sooth, but the good IB bloggers keep asking after MC’s activities so I *have* to obilige. 
Plaid, there is something very satisfying about shuffling off loads of accumulated stuff. Of course really important things like cats, books and pictures will not be shuffled off
Funny you should mention that SD, we will be renting within a stone’s throw of the Robinson Crusoe pub. Surely just a coincidence
Thanks to MC and SD for all advice re drugs and travel. Me’nMarmers have never gone further than the v.e.t. or Big Cage in our short liffs.
I’m trying to be very purrlite here, because there is such a Stooshie going on over in Uncle Les’ gaff, it behoves me to set an example to the rest of you
Purrhaps I should leave it to mpu to check out Her Maj’s gurrls Harry. Oh no, sorry, he says if he can’t claim them on expenses he’s not having any! And fpu says he’s not having any anyway…
You are at least going to keep commenting on Blogs FC? Your own Blog would be best.though if that isn’t possible, comments at least let us all
communicate and joke together. I’ll stop before the Crocodile tears fill my een All the best
Figgy (pictured handsomely above in the Pictish Cathedral City - PCC) says
‘Coorajsh mes ongfongs, speaking as an Arch Mover, its a dawdle really. You soon get used to a change of territory, you get to stare out the window a lot until they’re happy about letting you out - good god, as if you’d allow yourselves to be detached for long from the two squares a day and all the crunchies you can eat!
Then there’s the investigatory perambulations, and they usually leave the door open so you can nip in and out. This is better in the summer of course, you don’t want them wasting all that lovely heat in the winter. There’ll be a few local oiks to threaten, some boundaries to spray, lots of interesting new nooks and crannies, and Fife-flavoured fieldmice. Taste like chicken of course. Then of course in my case serial mover Jeeliepiece usually shifts again…. can’t say its put me up or down.
I’d suggest they put you in a local hotel for a couple of weeks while they find the catbowls and food, and get the furniture in, you might as well recline in comfort while they do the work. All the best chaps.’
and what about beginning another blog for Feline EastNeukers?
I was thinking of calling it ‘FC Gets His Eastneuky’ I’ve always wanted to be a fantasy writer…
Dear HarryD, nothing on this earth or beyond it would stop me from commenting and dispensing unwanted opinions on islandblogging. However, I do wonder if it is about to disappear up its own bahoukey. Or go up in a puff of severely miffed smoke! No names no pack drill. 
Twenty-six days to go.
madlamb–i hope you DO keep on blogging and FC,Effin granye and Mr 4X–hell he’s vanished
Just an observation from the Peanut Gallery here FC. If your Blog was born here and indeed it was, surely that would confer IB citizenship upon thee?
As for drugs, a friend of mine uses Feliway Spray (which you PU’s can Google) whenever transporting her cats and swears by it as it de-stresses them and helps they have a happy and sickness free trip without being drugged moggies.
Best wishes on all fronts and wishing you a purrfectly smooth transition.
Thanks Greg. I had no idea you visited here. How nice to see an old familiar face from Auntie Beeb’s ib. And the idea of ib citizenship with maybe a virtual passport is quite appealing!
Mister Fourex is here Carol:- http://x333xxx.wordpress.com/ I’ve added him to my Favourites and also owe him an apology. When his blog disappeared in a puff of red smoke, I thought he had pulled it himself, after a spat with Our Leader. It seems not. The Mystery of The Disappearing Blog…
It was the Nanny what done it with a froggy candlestick in the Sunroom of Eternity
That’s very well put, Greg. FC definitely has an IB passport Just take the drugs, FC and Marmers, the whole nightmare will pass in a hopefully pleasant haze. BTW I’ve heard about the Feliway stuff, does it work?
The Fife Mice don’t know what they’re in for!
I remember Largs as a kid FC the beach at that time was stones not sand.
If so, you will miss the great looking beaches of the islands I see in all the photos. Watch your paws ( not your faither) You will be a Hip feline with all the drugs.
That’s very helpful Harry Dear…but that Largs is in Ayrshire and the home of Nardini’s Famous Icecream parlour, and Lower Largo is in Fife and home of Alexander Selkirk. But close!
As fpu vaguely remembers the beach at Rothesay was very pebbly and required a grandparentalunit to carry one over the worst bit to the watter.
Do you need a tissue for the crocodile tears darling?
hae a gawp at 4x blog
Fc, I am feeling a wee little bit lonely, people are vanishing in puffs of smoke or being A Bit Quiet, and I don’t like it. Please can I get in your bit of the WordCupboard with you?
Me too! I feel sad.
Come on in and snuggle up under Marmers - he’s better than a duvet. At least I think that’s what mpu calls him…
Don’t be downcast, there are still purrlenty of genuine island dwellers - of whateffer nationality it matters not - in here, and if Les doesn’t get all tired and emotional there still will be in the future. You must be very very nice to him and not go off at half cock 
If only…
If I was being a bit quiet Yer Maj, its because BT say they are upgrading us to a New Generation of Broadband. That’s a bit like mpu’s waistband but virtual. I hope that’s clear. As a result, we were without our wee virtual world for at least ooooooooooh 20 hours. (it felt like a lifftime I can tell ye) Then all this afternoon ib was running so slow I gave up trying to break in and packed half a dozen boxes of books instead.
What worries me more is the almost-silence of mjc. You fair miss him when he’s not here. And Cap’n Barney. I hope its just summer getting in the way. One always worries about one’s older followers
Thanks for correction FC I was only 9years old at time and the beach was a big deal for us kids. Packing must be close to finished now. Jist time to say cheerio to friends.
I wasn’t meaning to teach my granny to suck soor plooms Harry, honest… I am so taken with the idea of being a hip feline, purrhaps I could re-name my blog Hip Kit In The Kingdom…oh no I forgot, I won’t be able to re-name it…me’n'Marmers will have to totter off intae the sunset toting our spotty bundles on sticks, casting tearful glances behind, as we set off once again into the Big Unken Wilderness *sob* oh sorry forgot there that’s better…for a wee moment there I thought I was back in Auntieland.
Surrey (our green-eyed, white cat) hopes you have a safe journey
Very descriptive post you got here FC, have you been at the Thesaurus again?
I’ve got a bit of a nose bleed just now, that horse is way too high for me, and I do prefer a good pussy ( if one does exist) anyday… 
Don’t let them drug you - it really isn’t necessary. Tell them that you are grow’d up cats and can cope with a bit of transitory discomfort. Lots of Love from MC xx