About Steve Morgan

Occupational Therapist since 1986, Case Manager since 1990, Author since 1993, Consultancy since 2001. Launched a blog from 2013, a podcast in 2014, and YouTube videos from 2017.

Tumbleweed Junction

Posted on August 11, 2013 by Steve Morgan

As a sophisticated cat I have always had a liking for the dramatic entrance. So you will no doubt share my recent dismay as I was strolling around the iconic Cardiff Bay (or Bae Caerdydd for those of you who want to know nearly as much Welsh as me). People seemed very relaxed as they sipped their cappuccino’s and cool beers, gazing out over the sun-drenched waters where the waves form a shimmering dance only briefly interrupted by a passing pleasure boat. The Millenium Centre glistens in various shades of gold and bronze, and the Pierhead Building projects a bold gothic majesty in red, facing out towards the seven seas. The Senedd houses whatever it is that government does these days, as we all look up in wonder at the weird funnel shape on its roof, waiting for the puff of white smoke that will signify that something useful has been uttered inside.

Such a mesmeric place deserves a grand entrance… but if you are arriving by train the only item that probably would escape the call of the council tip is the somewhat less than inviting welcome sign at the station:

Now, originating from London I am used to the idea of run-down places looking to re-invent themselves. Everywhere you look is trying to become a new centre of leisure… the newest place to drink coffee and buy loads of stuff you don’t need. But, you at least need to make an effort at the front end of the business if you want to attract the punters in (that’s a free business tip I will pass on to you from Sean, who we met last time I spoke with you).

Let’s take the St. Pancras and Kings Cross area of London for example… it has a long way to go to catch up with the development of Cardiff Bay, but they are working on transforming the area behind the stations (previously known more for the pleasures of the night, available 24/7 so I am told, by sources who were told, by sources who might have been in the know, or not). As you approach St. Pancras you are greeted by a very imposing building:

Meanwhile, back at Cardiff Bay you could be forgiven for not feeling, well, imposed upon:

The station entrance at St. Pancras radiates a sense of the opulence that might just be lurking within:

Whereas that at Cardiff Bay just lurks:

Furthermore, gazing up at the roof structure tells a further story of the fine detail that goes into making a building that will inevitably dazzle all who come into it. For St. Pancras there is one of the world’s great iron roof arches:

Meanwhile, for Cardiff Bay there is a clear statement of being at one with nature, a place where conservation of the natural environment takes precedence over the demands of the built environment:

And then there is the issue of time… where iconic clocks are designed to draw your attention and help to order your day. For St. Pancras there is no mistaking the clock above the platform entrances:

As for Cardiff Bay you may be forgiven again for having to search around a bit (there is a working clock on the building across the road in the picture), or perhaps make sure you haven’t forgotten your watch!

Now, us cats may seem like we spend most of the day snoozing in between serious bouts of sleeping, but we still have a strong appreciation for irony. Perhaps there is a deliberate plan in Cardiff that travellers arriving for the first time to witness the delights of Mermaid Quay and the Bay, are invited to take a somewhat Narnia-like transition ‘from the ironic to the iconic’.

Even the modes of transport between our comparative sites have something to say about these two places… take St.Pancras for example, you always have a chance to be travelling on one of the country’s leading ‘iconic’ Javelin trains:

Whereas, down at Cardiff Bay station, every 12 minutes you get the chance to see and travel on the ironic ‘bubble car’ train, as it is described on the Wikipedia page for our somewhat rusty and dilapidated ‘gateway’ to the Bay.

The history books tell us that this station down the Bay was the site of the first steam train in South Wales, and for that it has become a listed building. What we don’t need the history books for is the reason why, if you are coming from Cardiff Queen Street to the Bay (the only two stations on this line), the best thing to do on a dry day is… walk!

The Bay will never have or need a St. Pancras style station, but to a casual laid back cat, this is not a building I would seek shade under, for fear of the building itself being so laid back it might just collapse on me. An iconic station could be small scale and innovative in design, or probably even restoring the current pile to something reflecting its history. I have been Juno, sharing a little social comment with you until we meet again soon.

Sean’s World

Posted on August 6, 2013 by Steve Morgan

When you spend half the week working at the pub, half the week touring the skate parks, half the week listening to good music, and half the week chilling out with other people, how many more halves of the week are you going to find to become one of Cardiff’s newest fashion entrepreneur’s? In order to find some answers to this conundrum we need to go in search of Sean. He is a member of the Partridge family… let’s say the David Cassidy of South Wales (though he is far too young to realise what an insult that might be).

Despite my credentials in the skating world…

being a cat of sophistication and subtle tastes, I wasn’t sure I would be welcomed at The City Arms, particularly as I would have to sit on the bar to eye-ball my prey. So I sent my own beer-taster along to sample a few pints of the renowned Brains SA and track down this intrepid multi-tasker. I say he is working at the pub, but I’m not sure that is a fair description as Sean seems to be having far too much fun to count it as work, and Chris (the landlord, as well as being Sean’s brother) might also question the accuracy of the description.

An interview seemed out of the question, as Sean is far more interested persuading anyone who comes to the bar to sample the vast array of lotions and potions on sale at any one time… all on personal recommendation of course (nice work if you can get it, so I am told). But he obliged my drinking minion with occasional insights into the mind of a business guru, in between dispensing tankards and goblets of liquid nectar to the baying hoards. So tell us Sean what gave you the idea to branch out into the world of sporting gentleman’s haberdashery?

“Well I just saw this t-shirt with a skating logo on it like, and I thought I can do that! Having fun and making money out of it can’t be that difficult can it.”

So that’s how to break into the impenetrably complex world of big business?

“Well, you just need to keep it simple like… it’s about blading so I thought I would call it ‘The Blade’, keep it sharp and edgy like.”

I know you spend a lot of time listening to good music, well all this skating and business stuff got me thinking about Jethro Tull, but I digress. What were the early challenges you had to overcome?

“I had the name, and some ideas about t-shirts and hats… only good quality stuff, you know. Then it all went mental like… buying stock, designing logos, getting a video made for a website and launch. It started taking up loads of time when I should have been out there skating.”

I can understand the pressures of keeping at the top of your game as well as setting up an iconic new brand at the same time. What advice did David Beckham offer you?

“Who?”

What was the inspiration behind the design of the website, The Blade Clothing?

“I wanted to get something out there to promote the merchandise, but I also wanted to show people that skating is edgy like. Some have said the blog is a bit raunchy, but I just put together edgy images I come across that I like.”

It all sounds a bit of a scary venture to get involved in, how scary would you say it has been for you Sean?

And how big do you anticipate this venture is going to get over the next year?

And how much did you say I would get for endorsing this radical new clothing empire?

It is clear to me that you have the enthusiasm and determination to make a really good go of this adventure. I am also told that you have a friendly personality, engaging with everyone who comes into the pub, which can only be a tremendous asset for breaking into the business world. So how has it all progressed over the last 6 months?

“Well, one minute I am talking to a couple of local outlets to just take a few items to see how they will sell, and the next thing you know I have one of the world’s leading skaters wearing one of my t-shirts, and I am getting phone calls from Poland expressing interest. I don’t know how far this thing can go.”

Well, it seems like it can go at least as far as Poland. Sean, I can’t knock your enthusiasm and effort for getting the whole idea off the ground. I recommend your website and blog to my readers, and I will endorse the products, though I am waiting for the four-legged versions to come out before I wear any of them.

Does my bum look too big in this? We ladies have a certain modicum of decorum to maintain, you know.

As the Steve Miller Band once said, fly like an eagle, both in your skating and your business venture. I have been Juno, flirting with the FTSE100 until I see you again.

My religion

Posted on August 4, 2013 by Steve Morgan

I wouldn’t say I was obsessed with food, but some of you regular readers might have drawn a different conclusion. As I was strolling along Churchill Way just the other day, contemplating just how much good food can be something of a religious experience, I was arrested by quite a sight:

Is it a church? Is it a restaurant? If there is such a thing as what you humans call a God, why is he mucking with my head in this way? I started to come over all confused between my flocks and my herds… this is a flock (or is it supposed to be a bunch of people blindly following each other in a shared faith, based in hope but little else?):

Picture of Flock of Sheep - Free Pictures - FreeFoto.com

Now a herd is something I put my hope and faith into, particularly one with a clear process that goes from a) to b):

a) [image from my good friend Fat-Freddies-Cat]:

man gave numbers to all the animals

b) Image from Craig Farm Organic Beef site [or frequent image in my head that I associate with animals, farming, cattle… or just plain being awake]:

Yes, it used to be a place of worship, but now Chapel 1877 is… well, a place of worship. Step inside and the confusion continues, the original chapel feel is still very much there, only now there is an inviting bar and a unique restaurant atmosphere around the place… no corporate chain decor here, even though this God idea seems to incorporate its own large-scale establishment with branches all over the place:

The pews have gone, replaced by comfortable chairs and tables of different shapes and sizes. Gone are the hymn sheets, now replaced by tempting menus for a range of budgets. Gone is the vicar and the choir, to be replaced by a different kind of order of service (though my personal diners that I sent to experience the place for me were not overly impressed with the service… it was reported as rushed and confused at the outset, even though the place was busy without being full; but it improved after apologies for the mix up over wine ordered and failure to produce the bread and olives before the starter).

As a cool cat my priority though had to be the food, and on this there was no compromise. The reports back were excellent. My faith was soon restored when I saw the herd had arrived in a colourful display:

The beef carpaccio with capers, rocket, parmesan and a Worcester mayonnaise set the bar very high from the start; but the fillet steak was excellent, as was a special mention for the accompanying mushroom (cooked to perfection… not that us cats care much about that detail!). Following the earlier mix up over the wine there was no repeat with the later brandy order; and the macchiato was just right.

The collection plate at the end was reasonable for the quality of food served up… not cathedral-like overly expensive, but not your routine church hall affair either. My reporting restauranteurs tell me they would happily return to worship at another service. For me, thoughts of that herd remain something that would require a confessional, but I am still Juno blessing you all until I see you again.

In a New York Minute

Posted on August 1, 2013 by Steve Morgan

I have never been one for thinking that close proximity to something means I have to do anything about it. Take music, for example… I have my own in-house D.J. to decide what we listen to, and when. The limit of my exertions are simply to just lie there and reflect on wherever the music takes me. Just the other day I did get a little confused, as Eagles seemed to be soaring indoors but outside there was nothing other than a flock of sea-gulls (think about it music lovers). Suddenly a beautiful version of Don Henley’s ‘New York Minute‘ filled the room:

In a New York Minute

Everything can change

In a New York Minute

Things can get pretty strange

It is usually described as the period of time between a Manhattan traffic light turning green and the driver behind you honking their horn. But it instantly got me thinking about my previous life ‘In a London Minute’, where a similar urgency and madness seems to be born out of people always needing to be somewhere else. For all of you readers afflicted by a similar malady, I say take a minute now and then to just chill-out. You don’t see us cats battling the traffic to get to the gym for yet another yoga class before we need to gargle the falling-down water just to get over the stress of the gym. Whatever you do, don’t try this yoga with cats thing on me, my take on it all is something like this:

Why not take a few hints out of my new life… ‘In a Cardiff Minute’. I might live on the edge of the city centre of a capital city, but I still find it easy to seek out the spaces to be in the moment, without having to do the full Buddhist trip. Come on a journey around my local neighbourhood and see what I mean. No cars allowed down here:

As for here, cars are allowed, but this is my kind of rush hour:

They say that for a brief period back at the start of the last century this local dock was busier than New York… perhaps the Eagles first song was ‘In a Cardiff Minute’! Now it is where I prefer to practice my trick of walking on water:

However busy your life might seem, just look out for those still spaces and still moments. You can always check out the mindfulness and meditation websites for ways of chilling on the move… or take a look at the ideas that are set out on the happiness experiment blog. I’ve even trained my personal financial consultant in the ways of the cool cat… when you think about your workspace every office needs a bed:

I’m feeling so laid back I almost forgot who I was for a minute. Going back to the early theme of these musings, the Eagles… I am Juno, and until I see you again Take it Easy.

Celebration day

Posted on July 28, 2013 by Steve Morgan

It turns out that the president and vice president of my fan club celebrated their 60th wedding anniversary the other day. They even called in for a few minutes to offer me pats, strokes and unsolicited compliments, when it probably should have been me doing that for them… but why change the natural order of things! So momentous was this event that even the right royal Lizzie, queen of as far as she can walk, dispatched a member of her own staff (well it said HM Royal Mail on the side of the van) to deliver a card with congratulations on achieving what ‘ones husband and I’ also managed to do a few years back. It seems the Queen has even changed her dress in the picture on the card, following some televised complaints by some ton-up Tessa’s who live long enough to build a collection of these things.

So how do you celebrate such an event, and what kind of place would match up to the occasion? For all that Cardiff may have to offer the final decision (imaginary drum roll at this point…) goes to the Gwaelod-y-Garth Inn a few miles north of the city in the foothills of the Taff Gorge… a portal into the terrifying spectre of the place known as ‘The Valleys’, comparable only to ‘Mordor’ in the Lord of the Rings.

The view from the Garth (the rocky outcrop visible from the A470) down the Taff valley towards Cardiff. The Bristol Channel is in the background and on clear days Weston Super Mare is visible

I digress, into territory where no cats played any roles of consequence, so lets get back to the more important subject, me.. oh ok, them. Despite 60 years of saying ‘eh… what?’ and more recently enjoying the divergent tracts of ‘coffee with the girls’ for her and ‘golf’ for him, it seems that there are still a significant enough number of blood relatives and close friends scattered about the regions of South Wales, and even back in my old haunt of London. So it was that a great celebration was organised to bring the tribal elders, the deluded young, and the real young together for a magnificent feast. ‘The Gwaelod’, as it is known by its locals, was tasked to meet the challenge:

Now don’t get me wrong, but my personal imbiber can go off on one occasionally… is it a pub, is it a restaurant, why are the campaign for real ale folks honouring a place that focuses so much on grub? There is a simple answer that I offer in these situations… ‘if the quality of everything is fabulous enough just do less thinking and more enjoying’! However, a point was well made when the range of beers available included London Pride as a guest… even I, as a cool cat formerly of that parish, have to wonder at the waste of a good hand-pump by presenting this particular number. Fortunately, I am told that the regular Wye Valley bitter was adequately complemented by a stellar cast that included the Dark Star Hophead (which my surrogate drinker won’t shut up about since discovering it in a few local hostelries). Apparently the red wines could have done with being served at a slightly cooler temperature, but the gluggers of the Sauvignon Blanc were too busy emptying bottles to offer any professional comment… but the New Zealand economy has sent its appreciation.

Downstairs bar

The real triumph of the evening seems to be the food (and I will try not to go on again about what I find in my perpetual bowl of blandness). I am reliably told, by someone who often appreciates the curves in a walked straight line, that a herd of the highest quality gave of their loins so that the multitude could stuff themselves to the point of synchronised satisfied grinning. The fillet steak at this place was superb, as were reports of the various parts of lambs and pigs consumed in honour of the newlyweds of 60 years previously. As in previous posts of mine, I can confidently report that no vegetarians were harmed at this event, but the vegetables and chips were also deliciously presented, should any meat-avoiders want to attend any similar such occasion (blindfolded of course).

In the interests of financial considerations, I count myself lucky that my paws and fine coat are designed for better things than messing in the murky world of money… yet the satisfied throng seem to be suggesting that ‘The Gwaelod’ is not only a place for fine dining and watering, but very reasonable in its prices. One word of warning though, I noticed on their own website that this place had recently hosted some of the stick-waving bell-jangling bearded types… just when I thought I had escaped the English embarrassment of Morris and his local yocal dancing troupe!

That aside, if you are looking for quality for any occasion I think you will be purring after a visit to this place. I need to do some purring of my own right now to try and get some attention out of my typing staff, and to find out how I get my teeth into some of that herd. To my personal fan club I am still Juno, see you again soon.

Rio de J’Cardiff

Posted on July 25, 2013 by Steve Morgan

Strolling northwards at the lower end of St Mary Street I pass under the railway bridge drawn by the magnificent site of the Victorian thoroughfare ahead. I try to ignore the modern overpowering hotels to my right and left because us cool cats have an appreciation of history and what it has brought to a place. Suddenly I feel a shimmying movement in my legs (four are always better than two, so I am told), as I involuntarily respond to the sounds and smells of Brazil.

I drift back in my memory to a previous life when I was a panther able to bring down and devour wild beasts, but fortunately for the afternoon shoppers and early city centre revellers, I come across a restaurant of infinite potential and delight… I am greeted by Viva Brazil.

I decide this is a must for my human carnivore and friends. On their return they are so full of the experience they don’t even stop to thank me for the tip off. I dive behind the sofa before they turn into a demented bunch of Samba cats themselves. All I hear about is ‘the meats’, ‘the non-stop skewers of freshly cooked meats’… and here am I looking into that bowl of rocks that is supposed to pass for cat food again.

‘Churrascaria’, I meow at them… don’t you people understand the cultural nuances when you go out to eat! The 15 or so meats are slow barbecued in this Portuguese/Brazilian style, and when you sit at your table they will be brought to you on skewers by the ‘passadores’ who will cut the meat at your table while you hold the slices with tiny tweezers provided on the table. This is known as a rodizio style of service, and you just eat as much as you like. The red and green sided beer mat on your table is not for standing drinks on, it is your signal to the meat-wielders whether your stomach is open for business, or you are just stuffed. I am told that one good tip is not to eat much at all earlier in the day, as this stuff is not just plentiful but beautifully cooked on the charcoal barbecue.

Load up as often as you like from a central salad bar with so many delicious Brazilian stews, with salads, fruit, breads, and rice dishes. Isn’t it nice when you can taste so many different flavours without generally having a clue what exactly you are eating… well, looking at my cat bowl I wouldn’t know about that. I also drink a lot of water so you don’t have to… and judging from my samba compatriots here, it doesn’t look like they drank much water either. But they are a bit fussy about their wines, and seem to be moaning on a little about how they could have made better choices for gargling considering the range of wines and cocktails the place had on offer.

They say another tip is to book, as this place gets busy, often. A good sign if I ever heard of one. But it is cheaper if you sit down to eat before 17.00. So, if you are there on a less busy early evening they are lenient about you staying beyond an allotted two hours, otherwise you might feel a little time-limited for such gastric wonders. Then again, you can always pay the evening price and go for broke.

Next time my personal food fascist leaves me with the delights of scientifically prepared cat crunch, and goes on another Latin American excursion around the corner, my suggestion is to ditch the much overused doggie-bag idea and get with the programme on cat-suitcase-sized take-outs. I’ve been Juno so you can be a little wiser… and I’m watching you.

Black Cat

The above image is from http://www.catimages.com/

Is Bruce an alien?

Posted on July 21, 2013 by Steve Morgan

Some of you will recall that I recently outlined the evidence for Hurricane ‘Diff having caused some extremely strange sights around the city; but I also raised the possibility that it may be due to an alien invasion. I hope you didn’t lose too much sleep over those thoughts, while I was snuggly curled up on my velvet cushion gently twitching as I dreamed of the torment I could inflict on other animals (all in the best possible taste of course, or should the word ‘tasty’ fit in there somewhere?). Well, despite my regal demeanour, I am about to send another shock wave into your lives… there is growing evidence that an alien invasion has occurred in Cardiff; and, what’s more, Bruce Springsteen may in fact be an alien.

Some of you might be old enough to remember ‘Jeff Wayne’s musical version of War of the Worlds‘ (1978), and those of you old enough to be around at the the time of the H.G. Wells original story may have vivid memories of the radio event (1938), but you probably have no idea what you had for lunch a few hours ago. Key to the Martian invasion were the metal outer bodies that the aliens occupied, which came to represent broken shells when our bacterial life killed off the occupants. Forget Horsell Common, the Surrey location of the original invasion… we have one of them rotting away down at the Bute East Dock:

In fact, the inhabitant may still be in the locality, as there have been occasional sightings of

what can only be described as the Bute-ness monster lurking in the depths of the dock close to its original metal shell:

Bute-ness monster

More contemporary evidence has emerged through the landing of the mothership right in the heart of the city centre, and clearly alien life still requires to be near to water, hence the chosen landing site.

Rumours abound that Bruce Springsteen will be lighting it up and making noises out of it on 23rd July 2013 as a means of taking over the thoughts and minds of thousands of local residents, and even some people who will travel far and wide to view the spectacle of the mother-ship rocking to the sounds he makes with the E Street Band. If you stand near the site around 9.30pm on the evening of the 23rd you should get all the evidence you need.

However, if you are still not convinced, further evidence of his alien credentials can be gleaned from listening to some of the things he says, particularly repeating the phrase ‘Born in the USA‘. Have you ever met an American be so vague about their birthplace? Normally you get town, county, state, percentage breakdown of parental heritage, persecutions their grandparents were fleeing from, and the date the first ancestor set foot on Ellis Island. Someone who simply answers ‘Born in the USA’ can only be hiding something, or is other-worldly. He also claims to have a successful album called ‘The River’… well just look where the mothership landed, eh!

He calls himself ‘The Boss’… well I can relate to that, what with all the staff I employ. My personal music selector says that some of his best stuff was done by other people, which just sounds a little alien to me. But I do like ‘Blinded by the Light‘ which was written by Bruce but recorded most successfully by Manfred Mann’s Earthband back in 1976. But for all you fans click here for a review of the Cardiff gig that took place on the 23rd July 2013.

In the meantime, if any of you get the chance to take a tour of the mothership my surrogate sports fan says it is an awesome spectacle, whether occupied by aliens or not at the time you go. Check it out here. I am still being Juno, so see you again soon.

Hurricane ‘Diff

Posted on July 18, 2013 by Steve Morgan

You might think it is cool that us cats spend around 20 hours a day sleeping, but I for one pride myself on being fully alert to all that is going on in my local environment. Personally, I like to sleep with one eye open, so I can be instantly aware of the slightest stirring of any nocturnal creatures. During the day I sleep with the other eye open, so I can be aware of any potential food sources that busy themselves around the crack of lunch.

Understanding your local territory becomes essential for us warrior types. So you can imagine my surprise when I recently toured my adopted home city, only to find the strangest of happenings had occurred. I was first alerted to a potential catastrophe when I found a giant javelin had pierced the paving stones just outside of the central library, miles away from any athletics stadium.

I wouldn’t want to tangle with whoever threw that! But wait, it is not just something that one person could have caused… a force of nature had even bent all of the lamp-posts over:

As I turned another corner a tragic sight presented itself, and reminded me of the golden rule: when the going gets tough, let go! Unfortunately, this poor soul couldn’t have had time to react to whatever had struck the city with awesome force:

I realised that local industries must have been decimated by something other than greedy owners, politicians and economists, as bits of shovels, axles and buckets lay where they landed in the most incongruous of places:

But perhaps most surprising of all

was my thought that every anchor needs a boat (even though I am originally from East London that isn’t rhyming slang for anything)… was this the clue I was looking for as to what had happened, could it be something to do with the power of the sea, and if so what has become of the Cardiff Bay barrage?

In Cardiff you don’t see boats like you used to, but when you do they seem to be in the strangest of places, or was this another result of whatever had befallen the city while everyone was asleep:

I can only explain these strange happenings around the streets as being caused by some freak meteorological event… it is my conclusion that we have unwittingly experienced Hurricane ‘Diff. But before we seek the twinning of this fine city with that of New Orleans lets keep a sense of proportion, and be wise to any other explanation… it could be the first wave of an alien invasion in search of intelligent life, which is why they arrived in Cardiff, not in Swansea!

The good people of Cardiff should be assured that, to my knowledge, the only casualty seems to be the one who forgot to let go of their rope. All you other less fortunate readers (who don’t live in Cardiff) should also be assured that no animals or children were consumed in this story (unfortunately), so you can come visit the city without any fears.

To see more images of Cardiff street sculpture click on the link. None of my staff were referred to in this post as I have given them an hour off. See you again soon. Juno

No Joking!

Posted on July 15, 2013 by Steve Morgan

http://www.cardiffcomedy.co.uk/festival/whats-on

Alternatively, my surrogate sports fan told me that this poster was a reference to Cardiff Rugby Club’s season 2012-13. I hear the locals have a lot to talk about with Welsh rugby on the international stage. Just as well, because it seems the local stage has great big holes in it, and the theatrical troupe are slowly losing all their talented actors.

Jamie Roberts is off to France to spend more time with his expanding wallet. Sam Warburton and Leigh Halfpenny will soon form exhibits A & B in the great summer rugby auction, following rave reviews on the Aussie stage (where ‘Wales and a few others’ did rather well so I am told).

As for Cardiff Rugby Club fans in 2013-14, you always have a great history and tradition to look back on, as I’m not sure that competing with Newport Gwent Dragons to avoid being the lowest Welsh regional club in the league is an edifying spectacle… particularly when the football fans down the road are entertaining Premier League guests all season.

I’ve been Juno, but I’m not available to sign for the Cardiff Blues rugby team, as I have my standards to maintain.

Eat, drink and sizzle!!!

Posted on July 13, 2013 by Steve Morgan

You humans don’t half like your food! Come to think of it, I quite like your food as well, particularly that dead animal type of stuff. You vegetarians out there like to beat yourself up about the cruelty to animals thing, whereas us cats look on it this way… if it moves eat it, and if it doesn’t, eat it with a little less effort. But not to worry, vegetarians are safe with me… you don’t taste of much, and tend to have little protein to offer. That said, there are a number of good reasons why I like your food (not necessarily you as food), but for the main one just take a look at what I have to look at every morning:

My personal shopper likes to tell me it

says chicken on the packet. Well, kiss

my furry rump, it doesn’t look like the

chicken you all eat!

Staring at the bowl for a while got me interested in this idea of an International Food and Drink Festival, and so I took myself down ‘the Bay’ to see what was what.

Firstly, I didn’t get the ‘international’ thing, until I saw the Indian food tent and the kebab tent. So, ok I admit the idea of kofte’s and curry’s aren’t exactly Welsh inventions. Then I really didn’t get the chocolate and cheese stalls in 30 degrees of heat thing, but they tell me around here it is usually closer to 30 F than 30 C, and wet. At least the locals seemed to be enjoying it.

Talking about wet… I see the beer and cider tents seem to be the busiest. The tea and coffee stop seems to be struggling on a day like this (probably got someone doing a rain dance around the back). But, suddenly a sight to gladden the heart of any a cool cat… a tent with a sign saying ‘Welsh Venison Centre’. I feel a need to sink my teeth into a venison burger, low on the greenery and thick with the juicy brown stuff, topped off with a little chilli sauce. Us sophisticated cats have taste you know; none of these pretend burgers that are all bun and no gertrude. Bless those ‘dear’ venisons (I know it is supposed to be ‘deer’, it’s called artistic license) for sacrificing their lives to a greater good… or even a cunning kamikaze plan towards eventually killing off people through obesity and high blood pressure.

What’s that noise I hear? My fabulous burger is coming to an end, so my attention wanders to the sounds intermingling around the Bay… a distorted jazz band plays enthusiastically, as they are being ignored by loads of people. The whole place seems to be buzzing, and if you want to know the full programme of stalls, music and events check out the following link: http://www.cardiff-festival.com/content.asp search for the food festival and download the following programme:

Time for me to stop basking in the hottest day of this year (so far), and get back to those bowls of so-called chicken flavoured cat biscuits and cold water. See you again soon. Juno

	David on Searching for Lebanon
	Kirt on NOLA: UK-style
	Wanda Rusiecki on Frohe Weihnachten
	Steve Morgan on Turkish delight
	Wanda Rusiecki on Turkish delight

JUNO's VIEW

Seeing Cardiff and the world through the eyes of one cool cat

Author Archives: Steve Morgan