Fireworks and feathers!

Add Glitter to Pictures

Lots to write about but not much time and it is difficult to type in feather plumes and a showgirl costume.

So I am just going to wish you a wonderful 2008! May your feather plumes stay fluffy!

In the deep midwinter

Hello. In darkest Fife. Nearly time for the Winter Solstice and we've just had a wee bit of snow. A glittery of snow on top of a sparkly of frost. Pretty to look at. When you're wrapped up in hats and scarves and gloves and many, many layers and you know a nice warm cottage is at the end of the path.

Here's something for the longest night - The Sunshine Makers - as seen on BoingBoing.



Big warm solstice hug from Bear and Madame

Mulled bear

Deck the house with bits of muffin

Tralala la lalala
Wrap the bear in lots of tinsel

Dededede dede de

It's fun! fun! fun! Until you get caught doing it and have to spend the rest of the evening in the naughty corner while someone else hoovers up the bits of shredded tinsel and crumbled muffin.

Ok. So I got a bit overexcited at the weekend. But I had fun.

We struggled through the wind and sleet to attend Mr Flynn's birthday party. I say "we struggled". Obviously I was wrapped up safely and warmly in a nice bag. Madame and Nomi did the struggling and got all soppy wet.

They got dried out and ate sausage rolls and stuff on sticks while I got on with the important business. I played Hide Behind The Cushion and Run Up And Down and Roll About On The Floor. Mr Flynn's younger brother Mr Theo expressed a polite interest in my nose and buttons.

Mr Flynn received some very lovely presents including a pair of froggy wellingtons and an wol owl hat. But my favourite was the big yellow dumper truck. I would love a big yellow truck. You know. If someone would like to buy me one.

And then on Sunday evening we did Decorating The Tree. Yay! And to make it even more special we listened to The Cinnamon Bear. It was the first time I'd heard of Paddy O'Cinnamon. It was some good old time fun! An every day tale of naughty pirates, evil witches, crazy quilt dragons and things that throw mud. What more could you want? Oh. Really! I suppose ...

Must go. Busy week for Madame. And next week - aaaaaarrrrrgggghhhh - preparing to visit The Cats.

The bah humbug traitor

I had decided to hold out against all the Christmas jollification and stuff after all. Too much fuss. Don't like fuss. Bah humbug to fuss. I grrred and growled and told her ladyship that there would be none of that nonsense here. We would do a bit of low key solstice celebrating - maybe hug a small fir tree when no one was looking - but bah humbug to tinsel and glittery things and fairy lights and getting all jolly and jingly.


And then. Shhhhhh. Promise me that you won't tell anyone I said this. Ok. Oh, the shame ...

Yesterday Madame received her parcel full of Wainwright does Judy Garland and she was listening to it last night. Over and over again obviously. I naturally attempted to hide and to block my ears with cushions. But. Half way through The Trolley Song - yes, The Trolley Song - I started to feel all - I think it's called happy. I danced. Bear does Rufus does Judy. Don't you make that face at me. I know. I know. And it could happen to you.

And I woke up this morning with a great need for Crimbo nonsense. I want snowmens and reindeers and fake snow and - no, not santas - Madame is santaphobic - holly and mistletoe and - do I want egg nog? what is egg nog? - maybe egg nog.

But first I'm going to Mr Flynn's birthday party. He's 2 today. Hurrah for Mr Flynn! He does lots of running about and making noise and he's brill!

Rise up. Be a nation. Go back to bed.

So we've had St Andrew's Day and have started to burn down the numbers on our advent candle. Time to look forward to all the glitter and tinsel and stuff that helps us through gloomy midwinter.

Well, I'm looking forward to that - in my own Bah Humbug Don't Make Me Wear A Stupid Santa Hat way. Madame can't see past next week. Oh, when will her copy of Rufus!Rufus!Rufus! does Judy!Judy!Judy! arrive? Gosh! You mean you didn't have the release date marked in big red letters in your diary? We must not mock. I certainly won't be mocking. I don't want to be destuffed and used as an oven glove.

And she's not been well. Yawn. Operation Get Madame Back To Work is about to enter its 2nd week. Hum. Why do I keep thinking of Raise The Titanic? Never mind.

Have a good week. And remember when you are dusting off those decorations - tinsel is never as tasty as it looks.

Let's call him Mr Splashy Pants!

Hurrah! Some happy Name that animal news!

Round of applause for Greenpeace.

Mass Observation

Madame has been reading Our Hidden Lives. The book follows five diaries, collected by the Mass Observation Archive, through the years straight after World War Two. Madame had originally bought it with the idea of giving it away as a Christmas present but has enjoyed it so much that I think it's going to stay. And she'll be hunting for other copies to give away.

She has been a bit gloomy recently but the book has been giving her lots of things to think about. Very different times in some respects but a lot of familiar situations.

How would we deal with rationing, fuel shortages and make-do-and-mend? Hum. Luckily for me, Madame can manage a bit of making do and mending - repairing my fur is fine but darning socks and turning sheets?!

I've been busy stomping about and being angry. Do I need to say about what? Let's just say that yesterday I was thinking about changing my name. I was going to call myself Buddha Ganesh Jehovah Thor Modron Great Mother of the Lineage of Avallach Ra Flying Spaghetti Monster McMuffin Bear. But Madame has vetoed this. Says she's not in any condition to deal with fatwas and legal action. Although there might be the chance of a free meal if the Pastafarians turned up to throw meatballs. She might buy a net on a stick just in case.

Cutest of them all

Having a nice quiet day. Freezing cold and rain demands that we go back to bed with a hot water bottle and a good book. Listening to Biscuit. Madame got me Saucy Haulage Ballads as a thank you for all the extra trauma sponging I've been doing recently.

A good day. But the Guardian has to spoil it. A certain Sam Delany person claims, in an article in today's Guide, that "not content with being the poster bears of environmentalism, our polar friends are taking over TV and cinema screens too." The creamy furred iceberg botherers are apparently taking over from penguins as the Cute Animal Du Jour.

Humph. And humph again. I don't think the seals are going to like this. Never mind the penguins. Never diss a penguin. They can be right nippy when they want to be. If you ever wake up with a sardine head on the pillow next to you ... oh, that's a whole lot of Witness Protection Scheme you'll be needing. Unless you have a cat. In which case, just be glad you've woken up with your head still attached.

But I digress. Oh, yes. Having a hissy fit about polar bears in the Guardian. "But Bear," you are probably saying, "aren't you just being jealous and mean?" Yes. And what of it? If it had been pandas - fine, who doesn't love pandas (oh, this is odd news) and koalas - ok, they look a bit grumpy and they are all riddled with various unpleasant diseases - but they have the cutest fluffly ears. And, ladies and gentlemen, I give you *drum roll* - The Sea Otter ...


Where's your cute old polar bear now, Mr/Ms Guardian Person? Eh! Well! Ok, maybe I have been sitting too close to the hot water bottle. Off to sit in the fridge for a while. See if proximity to the ice cubes boosts my cuteness levels.

More sea otter fun here.

The Bear Identity - a secret life in pictures

Oh, little blog! I am a bad and unfaithful bear. I have been off having wild and dangerous adventures without you.

I have hung out with rock stars.

There have been mysterious blondes

and glamorous raven haired femme fatales.

Wild parties,

private jets,

and knitting.

All that and trying to stick Madame back together again.

It has been tiring. Occassionally fun. Often frustrating. Worrying. Confusing.

And not nearly enough of this

Extremely Tired Toy

Bear is having a nice long lie down in a darkened room.

Back soon.