sweasel.com

Neat graphic!

Today, the US will become one Weasel shy of a full nest. Rats! But our loss is GB’s gain!

Even rarer than when pigs fly. Fab drawing. 🙂

Weasel, I will stand in the yard and wave at your aeroplane.
I hope you will know which one is me and wave back.
Safe travels.

Wild weasel.

(viz.)

Our Weasel!

http://aardvarks.files.wordpress.com/2008/11/ferret_flier.jpg

…or, maybe just a relative.

I do love the DaVinci-ish steampunk-ish vibe of the pic tho.

Kinda “SKY WEASEL and the WORLD OF TOMORROW”

“SKY WEASEL and the WORLD OF TOMORROW”

That sounds like the title of some sort of wacky book written by a bunch of reprobates….

Hope you have a safe flight, and the kitty does’nt end up with PTSD from the non-tranq’d flight. Maybe a two-finger bag of catnip would help.

I love the graphic too.

“SKY WEASEL and the WORLD OF TOMORROW”

http://aardvarks.files.wordpress.com/2008/11/ferret_flier.jpg

Sounds like a 30’s serial… 🙂

Oh dear, Weasel with a HARM

That might get a little spooky, apotheosis.

Unkly B, I hope you have all of your underpants picked up off of the floor.

🙂

Allen – Why do you think they call dancing with a SAM battery WILD WEASEL? The HARM fits…. 😉

Speaking of which. Uncle B, when I was in the Navy, the Marines in the gator-freighters we used to escort had a sure fire love song for wooing the ladies. I found it for you. Enjoy..

http ://www.youtube.com/watch?v=alGicPxDU_o

😉

Yes, underpants handed to the underpants gnomes for ‘profit’, Jill 🙂

Meanwhile, much excitement at what was, until a couple of hours ago, ‘the old Weasel place’ but I’ll probably leave it to her Ladyship to explain, seeing’s it’s her blog an’ all. Suffice it to say, the steam-powered Aeroweasel is on its way.

Couldn’t get that link to work, I’m afraid Scubafreak.

And now we return you to your scheduled programme – vacuum cleaning for badgers: Part 74.

Uncle B: please let us know as soon as she lands and has gloriously entered into Badger Manor. I’m sure she’ll be tired. But than I can stop fretting over imaginary obstacles in her path.

UB, try this. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=alGicPxDU_o

Dang Uncle B, I was worried that the closing would have problems. The purchaser knows that Weasel was leaving town and it sets him up perfectly to make last minute demands.

Hope it’s not that and hope I’m just being cynical.

Yeah, Uncle Badger! If you can, let us know when she gets home!

Heh. Home! She’s gonna love it.

But then she’ll fuss and fret about her US stuff – which I assume is en route or whatever.

Man – I sure hope her other cat didn’t suddenly show up at the old house. That would suck at about 10^-8 Torr.

How rude, Scubafreak 😉

Right…. I have now spoken with herself (she was dining on a farewell-USA Big Mac and fries at the time – such class!) and I am instructed to spill the proverbial beans…

So, I’m wandering around town, doing a bit of last minute “ZOMG! I’ve got a weasel coming!” shopping when my mobile rings. It was, of course, said Weasel, wearing the voice of doom.

“Charlotte’s gone.”

It seems there’s a quaint ritual in Weaselville that you aren’t allowed to sell a house without some jumped-up gauleiter from the local council, strutting round to make sure your smoke alarms work. (I find this quite incredible, but there you are.)

Said jobsworth rolled-up, set the entire lot off at once – exit one cat.

By the time the poor Weasel called me she had walked three times round the block in the pouring rain and sounded like she was close to the very edge. Which, indeed, she was, with about an hour to go before the closing, after which both she and said feline had an urgent appointment with Mr Boeing.

An hour passes. the Weasel has foresaken her ride to the airport and is back at the home she no longer owns, having, once more, searched in vain for the wretched feline. Airline has been alerted, driver and car cancelled…

We sit, talking on Skype. Well… maybe she’ll come back tomorrow? Neither of us mentions Damien.

Suddenly, as if discussing the weather, Weasel says: “the covers just moved.”

She’s upset. Crazy enough at the best of times. Might even have dipped into the Xanax bottle. Clearly losing it, poor old thing…

“She’s here. Charlotte. Under the covers.”

Fifteen minutes later Weasel, Cat and hastily summoned taxi cab, are hurtling down the freeway to the airport.

I have told her, when they get here, I am going to bite them. Both of them. Very hard.

Talk about a nail-biter! Whoa!

Oh what a huge amount of stress — holy crap!

Uncle B, there’s an old sayin’ in the Tennessee hills (and probably elsewhere) that a bad beginning means a good ending. Meanwhile everything crossable is.

Do let us know.

John Hartford reference!
Any of you guys familiar with Steam Powered Aeroplane?
Great early 70’s album from the guy who wrote Wichita Lineman. Good St Louis boy.

UB, when they get there, I recommend a good spray-schellacking of the puddy to keep her housebound.

Da Weasel, you will have to use your imagination…. 😉

Booze, Scubafreak – it never fails! Nice bottle of fizz just gone in the fridge and the vodka is shivering in the freezer.

Thanks for the good wishes, fellow minions. Just put the phone down from speaking with The Weasel. Seems she’s just about to board.

I hope that Richard Branson knows what he’s let himself in for 😉

LOL…. I have a nice bottle of Glenlivit in the cabinet myself. have fun….

When Weasels fly across the sea
Things will be different
For you and me

Even now, the oceans part as the thunder roars
And our world is changing
As our Weasel soars

For soon in an ancient manor weasel will abide
And things will be different
In the quiet English countryside

God Speed Weasel (and refound Charlotte) and Saints and alcohol preserve ye, Uncle Badger.

That’s the problem with felines. Lots of drama.

Glad to hear her majesty is en route.

Oh, Unkly B…I was just *sick* reading that.

Thank God for covers.

Phew.

🙂

Oh no, poor kitty! I’m so glad she turned up. And now, the Weas AND Charlotte are en route for their new home!!

(I am ridiculously excited over this, considering I’ve never met any of you. So…um…if/when I travel to England, can I come see Badger House? And will y’all take me to the good fish ‘n’ chips place?)

Same here, Peel, I’ve been following the timeline, adding 3 hours and picturing a weasel on the plane now.

I’m too allergic to cats…and sheep. Can I visit the greenhouse?

The Weasel has landed.

🙂

YAY! Happy Thanksgiving, Stoaty!

The Weasel Has Landed…by Ken Follett.

Yahoo!!!! 🙂

(although after that long plane ride, I imagine poor old toothless Charlotte emerging from her carrier looking something akin to Bill The Cat)

No further word on our Weasel?

🙁

I’m sure they are getting reacquainted *waggles eyebrows*…after the weasel gets over the jetlag.

Knowing what she went through the few hours before taking off, I’m sure she looked like Bill the Cat as she got on the airplane. How long does it take to get large amounts of Xanax and booze out of your system?

People get it out of their systems?

🙂

Warmest best wishes on the new home and new life, Ma’am. I am so relieved to know you are safely there.

Gak.

I bet Stoaty is a blasted ruin of stressed weasel flesh about now. This was not your typical move (not that I need to say that).

I hope she’s firmly in the Land of Nod right now – purging stress byproducts out like crazy.

I hope she packed her American toilet tissue.

Ahh, cats. Always there to inject a little unwanted drama into your life… 😉

There’s actually no need to say “American” toilet paper, Jill, since no toilet paper exists that is not American toilet paper. The stuff they use elsewhere is only facial quality if your face needs a good sandpapering.

jwpaine: It’s the little tips I pick up here and there that make me want to never, ever travel.

At least until I catch the next PBS docuwhatsit about Howsthatagainastan.

Weasel, Badger, congrats to both of you! Have fun!

Stick with me, Joanna—I’ll have you afraid to leave the house.

BTW: I believe the Weez is currently doing her best impression of what my Dad used to call “a pole-axed stoat.”