LET'S PRETEND THIS IS A WITTY TITLE AND JUST GET ON WITH IT

1. Business Stuff.

We're a registered charity. We're also a limited company, a charitable limitable company. This means we have to do certain stuff by law. Don't ask me what. I mean I've been told, it just doesn't stick. Like peoples' names, what I had for lunch, how many cats I've got, things like that.

This week the three directors -Heather, Andrea, and um, ah oui, c'est moi- had a meeting with our accountant to clarify certain matters with him. Turns out we should have at least five directors, preferably seven. I immediately suggested we appoint Susan Hardy and Ann Downs, respectively co-founder and treasurer. This was agreed. There was also other stuff about members and the AGM which is too boring to be repeated and was discussed to death at a committee meeting this afternoon, along with slightly less boring stuff. I'd rambled on interminably about the meeting with the accountant so when asked to give a report on the cat situation I said, "Sixty-four cats and kittens re-homed this year. Thank you. Next!"

2. Cat update with photos.

Having called one cat Arya, I've continued with the Game of Thrones theme and named the fluffy-ish ginger, white, black and whatever, Ned. Then I took him to the vets this morning to be checked out and changed her name to Catelyn. I'd closed the horror DVD cupboard door where she'd taken up residence so I could get hold of her more easily to put in the cat carrier. I haven't opened it since so she's moved to the tallest graphic novel shelf. She's also now available for re-homing.

Then there's Khal the last kitten. He's the last kitten because I re-homed Bran the ginger and white one this morning. He looks so sad on his own. Doesn't your heart just melt? Don't you reallly really want to take him off my hands? He's good with grown ups, kids, other animals, great white sharks, polar bears... C'mon, you know you want to.

Jeff, whose kittens have all been re-homed, is venturing farther afield, even upstairs to my bedroom. Actually, she got out this morning and I didn't realise until I opened the front door and saw her looking up at me.

Arya, who always looks miserable but isn't and is a very affectionate little thing and good with other cats (oh yes she is!) likes the top of my chest of drawers. Available as soon as she gets her stitches out in a week's time. Hint.

And here's another one of Aelfric just because. (For new readers, just because means because he's the most handsome cat in the world, the most playful, friendliest, absolutely delightful cat I've ever had and anyone who tries to take him off me had better make an appointment with an undertaker first. (His name is Anglo-Saxon and not from Game of Thrones.)