Brimley pens the Porter Manor Xmas letter....

The happiest of all holiday greetings to you one and all!  I was beyond thrilled when Lady Ginty invited me to “pen” the Christmas letter again this year. I was so taken with my new-found writing skills that I actually started my own blog this year (http://brimleyspeaks.blogspot.com/), so I am now an officially published author.  I have kept a keen writer’s eye on the activities and comings and goings of the past year at Porter Manor, so I will attempt to provide an overview of my observations:

This was the year for royal weddings…the son to the manor born, Robin, married one of my favorite visitors, Shannin. I was unable to attend the outdoor wedding due some digestive issues, but I heard it was a quite lovely spot overlooking a lake and that a good time was had by all. I know I certainly enjoyed the leftover appetizers. The wedding couple took a surprise honeymoon to Jacksonville, Florida and frolicked in the ocean. The couple have stayed with me and the other felines on several occasions this year while Lady Ginty and Father Daniel were away on urgent manor business, and, I must say, I do enjoy all the attention I get from Shannin. I suspect Robin gets a bit jealous, but he is a tolerant sort.

This year I have not been so  befuddled by the arrival of visitors (last year I was quite overwhelmed and my mustache and eyebrows were constantly atwitter with the endless stream of new faces). So when the Juneaus arrived, I knew immediately to expect the lovely Brooke and her ever-loyal companion, Jason and , of course, the three young lads, Riley, Hayden, and Harper. Riley seemed a bit taller than his mother, and Hayden was affectionate with me as always. The young whippersnapper, Harper, had just perfected his walking skills and was determined that I should make brisk circles around the dining table with him in hot pursuit. We finally settled down for naps, and I listened to the chatter concerning life in Greensboro… the cherry picking trips, horseback rides and something about mountains of laundry and failure and replacement of major household appliances. I admit I did not understand the appliances part, but it certainly seemed to have the lovely Brooke in an agitated state.

For half of this year I was in the company of Mistress Carly who resided at the Manor while she taught Art History at her nearby alma mater, Furman University. (She took great pains to teach me how to both pronounce and spell F-U-R-M-A-N). I  was quite morose after she returned to her betrothed, Jay, in Richmond. But I am told they found a house to purchase there and that they even have a guest cottage. I dream of the day I might visit. I have a few decorating talents that few know about, and  I am excited to hear that Jay and Carly both are now tutored in the ways of sewing machines. This opens endless possibilities to my visions of Richmond décor.

Life here at the manor has been sublime. Lady Ginty makes every holiday a special occasion , festooning the house with festive décor, although I was somewhat unsettled by her Halloween mise en scène. The spanish moss, snakes, and voodoo dolls were more than a bit unnerving. On a day-to-day basis, my primary caregiver—Father Daniel—is an authentic hero. He bathes me, changes my litter, allows me to sit on the prized grey lap pillow in the recliner, and he grooms me like my own mother used to (except she used her tongue, and he uses a brush---well, most of the time he uses a brush). I also have come to enjoy his tastes in reading. We are making our way through the classics (I will confess that I was a bit depressed by that Crime and Punishment book, however).

All of us at Porter Manor wish each of you a joyous season, one that brings health, some wealth, and an abundance of happiness. I look forward to the coming new year, and I am resolved to do something about my ever expanding tummyline. Perhaps more laps around the dining table would be in order.

Merry Christmas to all and to all a goodnight.

Brimley's Halloween Adventure

Dear Faithful Followers,

I have been waiting to post a blog till I had something exciting to recount, and I can tell you unequivocally that the event has indeed occurred. The Manor was atwitter last night with throngs of oddly costumed figures and fascinating happenings. I was puzzled by the activities earlier in the day of Lady Ginty and Father Daniel and the weekend visitors, Joy and Walter…. I haven’t seen such scurrying about a house in all my time at the Manor. I do feel like Lady Ginty did impose a bit on her guest, Joy, as she was relegated almost exclusively to food preparation tasks. (They were totally unaware of my popping up on the table for a complete inspection of the repast… quite an appealing array of goodies.)But on to the evenings festivities… I, of course, was on my best social behavior. I visited with many of the guests (mostly female) who were quite familiar with my blog. I did feel like quite the dandy. I did feel the urge to take a party nap, however, under the table with a concrete alligator. We got along just fine. I was interrupted, however, by loud drumming which Lady Ginty said were voodoo drums. Then next thing I know all the guests were filing out of the house toward the south lawn. Busybody that I am I slipped through the open door as the last guest exited. There I saw many a wondrous thing… Lady
Ginty was summoning someone named Marie Laveau and then the next thing I saw quite undid me… a terrible wolf emerged and was vanquished by some horrid reptilian giant. I have never imagined such a thing. And then the next thing I saw was the entire assemblage waving hankies and moving in music to what Lady Ginty called a “second line parade.” I know not what this was supposed to be, but it looked festive indeed. In all, it was a gala occasion, and I feel quite certain I was much admired. Ah…. My days at Porter Manor are the happiest imaginable. I finally ended the evening quite exhausted on the lap  of Father Daniel. Happy Halloween to all!! P.S. Do take note of the pumpkin carving Father Daniel did of me...I look quite distinguished.

The Comeback Trail

Dearest Faithful Readers,

Forgive my long silence these past few weeks, but I have had a most trying time with all this heat.  I have had this experience many years ago and know it well…yes, I have had the vapors! I have been listless and sluggish and unwilling to make much effort beyond making my way to the food bowl, litter box and the recliner. I try to humor Father Daniel and step out on to the front porch. But then the humidity and hot air force me to a quick air-conditioned retreat.  I see on the forecast (yes, I have been watching way too much television) that we are looking at lower temperatures this week, and I find myself feeling a tad more frisky. Lady Ginty is advising me on my need for weight watching. I have done nothing this summer about my tummy which has been ever expanding during this “vapor” phase. I shall find the necessary resolve to become my robust an sleek self without delay…oh wait, I believe a National Geographic special about white rats is about to come on….  

Shocked Beyond Repair

What I am about to share with you has shocked me speechless. Yesterday, I was making my way through the kitchen to check out my feeding bowl when a slip of paper fell onto the floor. I could not believe what it said! I will transcribe it faithfully so you will understand how utterly undone I am:

                                         OCONEE COUNTY POLICE DEPARTMENT, SC


 NATURE OF INCIDENT: Sexual Assault                       DATE/TIME: Saturday, Mar. 24, 2007, 6:15 a.m.

VICTIM: Walter the Cat                                              PERP:  Little Calhoun Cat
AGE: 7 years                                                               AGE:  1 1/2 yrs.
WT:  25-30 lbs                                                            WT:  5-7 lbs
HT: 11 "                                                                       HT: 11"
EYES:  Green                                                              EYES:  Yellow
HAIR:  Orange Sherbet                                                HAIR:  Black and White

CASE NOTES/DESCRIPTION OF INCIDENT:                                    
At 6:15 am on 3/24/2007, a witness (one Carolyn Porter, age 23, now living in Richmond, VA, but a native of SC visiting family at 1652 Porter Dr., Seneca, SC) observed loud hissing originating from her parents' kitchen (Daniel and Elizabeth Porter, address above). Witness entered the kitchen, and upon doing so observed Little Calhoun (aka the "Funny Face Rapist") attacking Walter. Strangely, Walter is nearly three times his attacker's size. This aspect of the case is still unexplained. At 6:16 am, the witness attempted to stop the attack and succeeded in scaring away the suspect. Walter was administered immediate medical attention. The suspect is still at large. It is likely that he will continue to commit these crimes until he is incarcerated. A warrant for arrest and castration have been issued.

Well, my faithful readers I had no idea of the secrets Porter Manor holds. And it is with some trepidation that I tell you that Little Calhoun is now one of the outdoor cats. He says little, eats his food and then recedes to the kudzu. I shall keep a sharp and watchful eye on his whereabouts and take poor Walter under my protective "wing."

My Hunting Expedition

Well… The manor was quite lively over the holiday weekend . Lexington guests arrived early in the weekend, and, I must say,  they are two of my favorites (beyond my dearest Claire) who come to visit. They are very enthusiastic about felines, and they seem to have an intrinsic appreciation of me, in particular. I was so taken with the one called “Joy” when she invited me to the couch and brushed me with my favorite wire brush that I attempted to follow her down the basement stairs. Perhaps for a moment I thought Mistress Carly had returned. I soon got hold of myself. But,  I digress… on to this “hunting party….” Two of my many feline companions at the manor , the dark over-sized Siamese and the ginger-and-white male invited me to take a turn around the estate on the Fourth. It was then that I was coaxed into the hunt. Lady Ginty was observing from the parlor window, and I overheard her repeat the drama of what ensued.  I was striking the classic feline hunting pose at the end of the driveway… limbs in forward motion, eyes focused forward, ears at attention, and I moved slowly forward. Lady Ginty came  scampering down the drive to see what in the world I must be up to . It was then she saw the object of my tracking: the manor GROUNDHOG!!! My two feline conspirators had dared me to re-enact the “charge” of Independence Day. I acquiesced , some out of boredom, and some out of a desire to remember my hunting days. They were glorious and have been long forgotten. The groundhog of course scampered quickly into the kudzu.

My fellow felines and I  shared a nice reflective bonding time afterwards,  and, for that moment,  enjoyed a musketeer interlude.

+Reflections upon the weather

I suppose it is part of conventional and polite society to comment upon the weather...and I have found myself upon many past occasions a willing participant. But what I would like to share is my recent shock with the storm that  besieged the Manor. I was quite beside myself this past week when the skies darkened and the rain and wind swept thru the estate. My heart almost exploded when I heard the crash from the master bedroom....Busybody that I am, I darted down the hall to see Lady Ginty jumping from her afternoon slumber and exclaiming something I dare not repeat, gentleman that I am. Apparently, all turned out well and the sunroom ( a place I frequent when I want an alternate litter box and a tranquil private space) was not damaged. But an alarmingly large branch rested uncomfortably close to my sunroom view. I must confess that I am somewhat skittish about this extreme summer weather ...the thundering  and darkness is not in keeping with my sunny disposition. Well, let us be frank ... I have a party cloudy disposition.

Confessions of a Busybody

Some of my followers have asked about my rather long and illustrious history, but I am not quite prepared to debut those memories. My autobiography will be epic and the summer has only started.  But I would like to share with all my followers the delights of being  a lifelong busybody. I know it is a tad sordid, but it has been a delightful way to pass the time. The Manor cats are particularly lively and provide all manners of amusement.  I suppose I am a bit of a gossip as well… for those of you who are unacquainted with the inner workings of Porter Manor, please let me share.  They have fourteen cats that I have counted! Of course, some of them have never been indoors. I could not abide such a situation. But that many are being fed, and,  quite amazingly,  they all are non-reproducing. On any given day, the grey cat named Bailey is mercilessly affronted by any passing cat. I , of course, would not lower myself to such activities. But, I do confess, it is secretly amusing to watch. I scurry right to the action at the first sound of a hiss and confrontation. This activity provides me my daily constitutional  and  exercises my visual and cerebral acuity.( I must work on trimming down my pot belly this summer.) To that end, I must offer encouraging words to Bailey so that she will not give in to her active tormentors and will continue to offer me limitless busybody opportunities.

My summer transformation

I thought it appropriate that I allow my devoted followers to view my before and after portraits. As I said before, I do look ghastly with my shorn locks. But I can tell you that I so enjoyed my time on the porch this afternoon. All my companions were panting and frowning as they sweltered in the heat. Ha!  I was cool as the cucumbers that Lady G. is growing by that atrocious cactus in the front yard. I know a thing or two about landscaping. And while I heartily approve of the herb garden, the cactus is an affrontery. She did imply that she too despised it, but Father Daniel insisted that it stay. That is the ONLY disappointment I have had with him. I suppose I can rise above this slight. He is, after all,  the fellow that keeps my fanny nice and tidy.

My days at Porter Manor

Well, it has been a month now since Mistress Carly left to return to Richmond. I must say I have been challenged by her absence. The manor is much more subdued and I miss the daily toy romping on the floor that I had grown accustomed to. But I will say that Father Daniel has been very attentive to my grooming needs. Alas, I had to return to that wretched vet's office and be drugged and shorn of my silky white locks. I look positively ghastly. But I must say it has made me more comfortable in this beastly weather. I have been more willing to spend more time on the estate grounds of late. However, I was horrified by some of the other felines, particularly the one they call Tucker, when I realized that the high pitched squealing I was hearing from under the front porch was a young squirrel hanging from the mouth of Tucker. I had to retire to the recliner and settle my nerves. But at least I had a good companion there.