Word for Wednesday (W4W) #34


Play along! The rules are here.

This week’s word is…


How I am feeling today.

There are reasons.

I know what they are.

I know I can do something about this.

I know what needs to be done.

I hope I find the resources within me to face this challenge.

Apologies for being so cryptic.

I shall endeavour to be my more usual cheery chipper self next week.



Copyright, 2015, k1kat.com
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Word for Wednesday (W4W) #33


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This week’s word is…


The OH and I popped out to the shops yesterday evening before dinner and as we walked towards the car I noticed the beautiful scent in the air… petrichor. The sun was setting, the air was warm and damp and it was one of those moments that you just notice, you know?

I love smells and have a very sensitive nose.

The scent of earth being dug up in the garden, the scent of the ocean breeze at the beach, the heady scent of the roses in my garden, the scent of slight decay in a forest… are all beautiful reminders of the amazing world we live in. I think in the technological, mechanised world we live in we are at risk of forgetting the simple pleasures in life such as looking at a rainbow, (seriously! It’s mindblowingly magical!), relishing the heat of the sun on our backs, or the refreshing cool breeze on a warm day, the taste of that first sip of coffee or the sensation of having someone you love hold your hand.

The smell of the earth after rain is one of those pleasures, for me anyway.

And here’s the science bit, for those of you that like that sort of thing. I have spent quite a bit of time this morning reading up on it and I found it very interesting… but then again, I am a self-confessed nerd!


On a completely different note, the word reminded me of a book I read years ago called, The Scent of Rain and Lightening by Nancy Pickard, which was one of those books that make you sad when it ends because you enjoy reading it so much. It has made me think I must go out and look for more of her writing. If you have read it, do let me know if you enjoyed it too.



Copyright, 2015, k1kat.com
All rights reserved.

FFC #3… Meeting You

My amazing best mate Felicity has a fantastic new meme going called Friday Flash Challenge.

I cannot encourage you all enough to visit her site here and join in the fun! Each week she will provide a prompt that is sure to stretch you as a writer. It is always good to move outside our comfort zones, isn’t it?

Come on! Do it!


I have waited so long to meet you! All my life I think…

I have longed for you, imagined you, dreamt of you, craved you… and now here you are before me, as perfect as I have ever pictured you to be. Beyond perfect!

I have no words to express how fast my heart is beating, how hard it is to breathe looking at you, how full of love I feel, fit to burst at my seams.

Your eyes scan my face as I drink you in, imprinting this moment into my memory forever, knowing I have finally met you.

I feel we know each other already, intimately.

Our souls already are entwined. I am struck in awe and wonder at the depth of my feelings for you, even though this is the first time we have ever seen each other, touched each other, inhaled each other’s scent.

Getting lost in your deep, dark blue eyes, feeling your body against mine, the warmth of you against my breast, I ache inside. This pleasure and joy verges on being painful. I never expected to feel this much.

I have never known love before. I know this now. Everything else I have ever felt pales into insignificance compared to this. I know in this moment, without doubt, without hesitation, that I will do anything to keep you safe, to protect you.

Your tiny, doll-like fingers wrap around mine and squeeze with a strength that belies your size. Your beautiful eyes squeeze closed and you open your perfect rosebud lips to release an indignant roar into your new world.

You demand to be fed and I smile with unbound bliss as I submit to your call.

My heart belongs to you, my daughter.

I am so happy to meet you!

Copyright, 2015, illicitthoughts.wordpress.com

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Word For Wednesday (W4W) #32


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This week’s word is…


With the Rugby World Cup kicking off this coming weekend I had to make my W4W about my favourite sport!

I always think that rugby is the game for Gentlemen, whereas, in my humble opinion, soccer tends to encourage more loutish and vulgar behaviour…

You rarely see a rugby player take a dramatic dive, clutching their shin in fake agony when another player runs past too close to them. Rugby players do not stretch their jerseys over their heads and run around like headless chickens or engage in ridiculous peacocking celebration dances simply because they actually did their job, (i.e.;scored a try/made a conversion).

Rugby players play with dignity and honour, always accepting the referees decision or deferring to their Captain to clear up any uncertainties. With a few exceptions, rugby players exercise control over their tempers and channel that wonderful male energy into fierce tackles and mauls rather than turn on each other.

Rugby is game of discipline.

I am a proud and avid Leinster supporter and I live with a VERY proud Munster man.



My eyes roll when hear the familiar, “Irish by birth, Munster by the grace of God” line!

Ours is a fierce and longstanding rivalry and it makes for very lively ‘discussions’ in our house at times.

Processed with Moldiv

At least we agree that BOD was the best and POC is a living legend.

There are some brilliant Paul O’Connell jokes going around…

When POC was a child he made his mother finish his vegetables

When POC stares into the sun, the sun flinches

If it tastes like chicken,  looks like chicken and smells like chicken and POC says it’s beef… it’s beef

POC won a game of Connect Four in 3 moves

When POC watches a pot it boils immediately

Superman wears POC pjs

I believe if BOD ran to run the country he would have a landslide victory! That is man you can trust.

Of course I will be yelling for my Boys In Green, (and can we have a Yay! for our amazing Women’s Rugby Team?! When will it be called the ‘Men’s’ Rugby World Cup I wonder? I smell the whiff of subtle sexism), but I admit I do love to watch the All Blacks, because why? they’re the All Blacks! The Haka is the sexiest thing group of men can do, in my humble opinion. When I watch Richie McCaw, Sonny Bill Williams and Dan Carter do their stuff my ovaries all but explode.

I had the great honour of having a Haka performed for me once and before he started the performer requested that all the women in the front row, (where I was, of course!), move as it was believed that to perform the Haka directly in front of a woman would render her infertile. I am not fibbing when I say every little hair on my body stood on end and a cold shiver raked through me watching this man do the traditional dance. It was simply breathtaking and to imagine facing a team of giant, pumped up men doing it is pretty terrifying, (but also so incredibly HOT!)

So here’s to a great couple of weeks of the best, most exhilarating sport there is… Rugby!

Click to enjoy the Haka!



Copyright, 2015, k1kat.com

All rights reserved.

Vengeance Be Mine!

Around 8.30 on Saturday morning the OH, the two pooches and I sat in bed, drinking coffee and flicking through various social media sites, (well, the dogs were just lying lazily curled against each other, we discourage them from drinking coffee). I heard some strange noises; scraping sounds and we looked at each other. The noise set the dogs off and they leaped off the bed in furious unison, barking and tearing around the place in a haze of white fur. Yelling at them to be quiet, (which never works!), we tried to listen to the noises. I saw the flicker of a magpie through the window on the landing and we agreed the noise was being caused by birds. No worries then; time for breakfast and getting ready for the day ahead…

Making breakfast, the OH called me over to the window to see one of our garden chairs which had mysteriously moved away from its resting place against the patio table and was down at the end of the garden against the back and side wall. We wondered if the wind had been strong enough the night before to have pushed it across the paving. I popped out to take a photo to share with my twitter buddies, captioned, “the mysterious case of the moving chair”, because, you know, I live my life on twitter 😏.


We left the house before 11am to walk the dogs. As we approached the house on return we noticed our garden gate was open, which struck us as very odd indeed. On closer inspection it wasn’t just open. It was wedged open with a rock that we keep on the inside of the gate.

Our eyes met and I can honestly say my blood ran cold. Someone had been in our garden!

We went into the garden to see if anything was amiss. At first, apart from the chair, everything seemed normal. Then I heard, “Fuck!” and looked at the OH, followed his eyes to the lock on the shed door and froze.


We thought we were doing the right thing by investing in a good padlock for the shed bolt but it never even occurred to us that the padlock was completely impotent and redundant. The scumbags that broke into our garden simply unscrewed the catch on the bolt!

We stood in disbelief, looking at the bolt. He went to open the door and I braced myself. He went inside the shed and I asked if anything was missing. He looked around and I heard the relief in his voice as he said his über fancy professional grade drill was still there. Something still felt wrong to me and as I looked at him standing in the empty space of the shed it hit me… it should NOT be empty. It should have a very decent Carrera mountain bike worth €400 in it.

“Your bike!” I exclaimed and his jaw dropped, “Fuck! Jesus my bike!” his hands flying up to his forehead in disbelief.

He called the police at once and they said they would send a car around within a couple of hours. We talked about when it might have happened. Neither of us could recall if the garden gate had been open when we left the house to walk the dogs, as we had used the front door and not had any reason to check.

Then we remembered the noises that morning… Had we sat in bed listening as some rotten toe rags broke into our shed, wedged our gate open and simply took the OH’s bike? The dogs had barked but our dogs bark at anything and everything, so we think it was a case of “the boy who cried wolf” in this instance. (Or the dogs that barked burglar?)

Some red bricks that edge our 9ft boundary wall had been dislodged on to our lawn, so we figured they scaled the wall, scouted out the shed, used my garden chair to have a look into the surrounding gardens, wedged open the gate and made off with his bike.

Sunday morning came and still no police car, so we paid a visit to the station where the duty officer took our statement and details and promised to send a Scene Of Crime unit to our house. They arrived on Monday morning, took a look around and said there was no evidence to gather and that we should keep our eyes peeled on Internet buy and sell sites for the bike.

The OH is, quite naturally, down about the whole thing. He is annoyed and angry that someone thought they had the right to break into our personal space and steal something he had worked hard to earn the money to buy. He is furious that I was made to feel vulnerable and unsafe in my own home. He questioned why? What makes people think they have the right to do that? I didn’t know what to say to him. I do believe in Karma and I honestly think people like that will get their comeuppance in one form or another. I refuse to believe people who go around engaging in criminal behaviour can be truly at peace and happy in themselves.

So, to be honest I am not sure I can be bothered to scour Internet sites looking for the bike.

It’s gone. It’s over. It’s done.

Incidentally, I asked the police how we could make our boundary wall harder to get over. Knowing that the old practice of embedding broken glass at the top is illegal now, I enquired about the legality of anti-bird spikes to be told that I needed to check with my house insurance company regarding our public liability first. It seems I can legally put the spikes up, but if, whilst trying to break into MY garden, over MY wall, the thief injured him/herself on the spikes they would be fully within their rights to sue me.

There is something very, very wrong about this!



FYI: why the title of this post? The bike was a model called Carrera Vengeance… go figure!

And no it was not insured! Our insurance company had informed the OH that because of the excess charge it was going to cost him more to insure the bike than not. Oh look! there’s our €400!   💸💸💸

Copyright, 2015, k1kat.com
All rights reserved.

Word for Wednesday (W4W) #31


Play along!

This week’s word is…


Processed with Moldiv

I have a touch of this condition, as my heaving bookshelves and the numerous boxes of books in various closets and the attic demonstrate. However, as books seem to be getting more and more expensive, and with the rise of eBooks/Kindle, I admit I buy far fewer books these days than I did in my youth. I am a regular visitor to my local library and frequently request new books I long to read from them. They provide an excellent service and are always happy to chat about new arrivals.

I do have a pal who suffers pretty badly from bibliomania… the extent to which I discovered recently.

We were having a mildly competitive discussion about our love of books, keeping it friendly but each secretly wanting to “out-bibliophile” each other, when he revealed his obsession with keeping the books of spines completely uncreased. Thinking he was joking, (as a true sign of how much I love a book is how cracked the spine is, with pages falling out from being read over and over again), I laughed. His face remained serious… He explained that he reads in such a way as to ensure the spine of his books never crease, not even a tiny bit. I argued about how uncomfortable that would be, as I usually bend the covers over so I can read lying down. His face was a picture when he heard this!

A mixture of disbelief, disgust and rage…


Apparently if he lends out books, which he likes to do, he fully expects them to be returned in brand spanking new, store-bought condition, pristine… as if they had never been touched. Virgin books.

When I asked if he folded the corners of pages down I sent him over the edge. I explained how my books have coffees spills, chocolate fingerprints, broken spines and ratty corners.

For me loving books means they go places with me, in the bottom of my bag, in the bath, spine bent over as I lie on my side reading in bed, on buses and trains and planes… they wear the marks of my affection like love bites. You can tell which books are my favourites, not by how well kept they are, but by how damaged they look, how well thumbed they look.

I am a bibliophile and I have a touch of bibliomania but, (maybe because of my BDSM leanings), I love with a distinct lack of gentleness!

Here’s to all the book lovers, book collectors and logophiles everywhere.

Just don’t lend me your book if you are as… anal, (yeah! I said it!), as my good buddy!



Copyright, 2015, k1kat.com

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