Juno (2002-2015) R.I.P.

Posted on January 2, 2015 by Steve Morgan

It is with the deepest of sadness that I have to report the sudden and unexpected passing away of a most fabulously gentle and warm cat, Juno. She started the new year in its earliest hours with her usual lap-loving cuddly nature, but at 12 years of age seems far too young to suddenly succumb to a catastrophic stroke some 8 hours later. As difficult as the decision was, it was very obvious her quality of life had become completely compromised, and so with the aid of a very compassionate vet, and a close friend, she was helped to slip away with grace and dignity at 12.44pm on 1st January 2015.

Juno began her life as an indoor cat in Newham in the east-end of London, before joining me and Su in Charlton/Blackheath in south-east London via the streets and the Celia Hammond cat rescue centre in October 2009.

In April 2012 she moved with me from London to Cardiff to a flat that was instantly hers…

She adopted a regal air about the place from the outset…

Occasionally tried to hide before the annual vet trip, though those whiskers gave away the hiding place!…

She had an intensity about her mission of keeping me in check…

Loved to keep abreast of the news…

But now, for a small cat, she leaves a massive hole in what has been her home for nearly 3 years. She became the inspiration for my new adventure into the world of blogging in June 2013… when ‘Juno’s View’ was born out of a creative way of looking at my home city. She referred to me in derogatory ways in so many of the posts, but never by name… and for those readers who don’t know me, I will keep it that way.

She has left me with so many memories and inspirational thoughts, so as a memorial to such a fabulous companion I do intend for ‘Juno’s View’ to continue as a blog. For a short period of time I will not be publishing new posts, but I may re-blog some of my favourites from the 122 prior to this one. I only ask that current followers remain patient with me on that one, and any new followers stumbling on this site I hope the previous 122 will offer you some smiles and insights before new content appears.

She always signed off with an ‘Until we speak again…’, but on this somber occasion her final signing off is something so appropriate to her nature… she sends you the love!

Off yer trolley

Posted on December 30, 2014 by Steve Morgan

Just as another year draws to a close I was meandering along the canal side near home, pondering the shear magnitude of life, as many cats do. When I was suddenly accosted by a metaphor, illuminating my very thoughts at that moment… that art truly can imitate life.

I’ve lost count of the number of times I have heard about a shopping trolley being spotted in places where shopping trolleys shouldn’t ought to be. Having said that my favourite was the apocryphal tale of the trolley found half way up the Sydney Harbour Bridge just at the time when the Bridge Walk was opened in 1998 (attributed to a student prank of alarming audacity before the walk was officially opened). Yes, my intrepid litter tray cleaner was one of the first few hundred to make the official climb (though apparently sans shopping trolley), and was dubiously supplied with the aforementioned tale.

So, my particular insight for you to take into the unknown of 2015 is that shopping trolleys have a habit of installing themselves into many places, and now thanks to the arbiters of taste in Cardiff you can add municipal art installations to the list…

Until we speak again I aim to be Moderation Juno trying not to get off my trolley.

A fishy tale

Posted on December 23, 2014 by Steve Morgan

Now, us cats are widely known for our gastronomic approach to the fish… after all, why waste time observing the aesthetic when you can tuck in to some damn good nosh? But my laser focus on the subject was temporarily interupted when the resident wobbly one recently staggered back from the ale house of choice mumbling something about rings, trappist monks and fountain-dwelling fish. For a moment it just sounded like the usual garbled nonsense that emerges from one who spends an hour or two longer than is wise in dens of intoxication.

A word of warning… this tale starts with a somewhat obscure reference to rats, a most unpleasant subject to interrupt the joys of your festive celebrations! And as for the idea of ‘Premium’ black rat, I can only hope that that is overdone in cajun spices.

Anyway, back to the original inspiration for this tale… it appears many years ago that Countess Matilde of Tuscany accidentally lost her wedding ring in a fountain somewhere in Belgium. Though I am rather suspicious already… what was a recently widowed countess hoping to find in Belgium, and was the loss of the ring accident or providence? I leave you to speculate on questions of such magnitude.

For those of you into religion, and other sources of miracles, it seems that while Matilde was praying (for what you may continue your own bizarre speculations), a trout appeared from out of said fountain, with her ring in its mouth. Being an avid studier of the fish I can only suggest that rings play havoc with their digestion. However, like all grateful souls, it appears that Matilde decided there and then to build a monastery on the site; and probably in consultation with her google maps app realised she was in a place from henceforth to be known as Orval.

My resident ‘imbiber general’ informs me that this was the least interesting part of the whole story. It seems that the trappist cistercian monks who took up residence in the new gaff had loads of time on their hands after daily prayers were completed. So, like all men who easily succumb to boredom as a tactic for avoiding the usual domestic chores they took to developing a hobby, most notably home brewing. From that day onwards they have been spreading joy to the world through something that Fat-Freddies-Cat describes as ‘liquidised hops’. Meanwhile my resident knobhead tries to convince me that it tastes better out of the designed for purpose glass… well at least it looks good; so I leave you with a festive image:

Enjoy your lotion of choice, but in the meantime I shall return to my pursuit of what fish were really designed for. Until we speak again I shall mainly be snoozing Juno.

Be my guest

Posted on December 18, 2014 by Steve Morgan

Talking of arse-end surveillance, as I was just recently… I have just found a new way of consuming news:

Anyway, I digress… a particular problem when, like me, you have a passion for writing loads of stuff and your concentration tends to wander. So, the opportunity has arisen for me to take a break, step back, and take pleasure in welcoming another cool cat from Cardiff to share an experience with you. My good friend Fat-Freddies-Cat accompanied me on a trip to Newport in a much earlier post on this site, but also happens to wander into many a pub in many a town for the odd beer or two. In fact, he continues to produce a photographic series ‘Time for a pint’ which now has over a million views on Flickr. Why not check it out by clicking the following link:

As a taster, so to speak, Fat-Freddies-Cat has a tail (or is that tale?) to tell about one such adventure in the local area. This is a brief story about a visit to Kitty Flynn’s in Cardiff, and a personal reflection on the changing fortunes of the SA drinker over the years…

“There’s gonna be trouble in here later” said the lady determined to shake my hand.

It’s a quiet Monday night, hardly looks like there is trouble brewing. My first visit here this century. This used to be The Cambrian, on the corner of Cardiff’s most notorious street, wall to wall with the brewery that owns it. Hookers and hustlers used to fill the room, Brains SA was known as ‘skull attack’ and a thick fog of cigarette smoke hung about waist height. Today, The Cambrian is Kitty Flynn’s – an Irish bar, the smoke has now moved outside, the brewery has moved to what was then the wrong side of the tracks. Caroline Street is now mere ‘chip shop alley’ – people even live there. Brains SA has not attacked any skulls in many a long year.

I didn’t stay for the trouble, it only occurring to me after I had left, that I was wearing an orange t-shirt which was probably not a good idea in an Irish pub.

Until we speak again I aim to continue being Juno, but with a degree of caution about the colours I wear in distinct hostelries about town. The search for the long-lost SA tradition will continue (though it can look and taste pretty good at times); and I do believe that Fat-Freddie-Cat is consuming what remains of the pint next to it! Cheers.

Arse-end surveillance

Posted on December 13, 2014 by Steve Morgan

I know… I said in my introduction to this blog that I wouldn’t lick my bits while addressing you all, but eventually every cat has to do what a cat has to do!

Feel free to lick your own by the way, it can be a great source of inspiration… why, just the other day, while I was abluting I couldn’t help but reflect on the limitations of modern day architecture. “What on earth are you on about?” you ask. Well, it suddenly came to me that all the inspirational creative design goes into the front end of buildings, and the arse-end rarely presents the most attractive of views. A bit like me really!

So I thought I would put my hypothesis to the test to see what we can learn from the local area in Cardiff. Talk about ‘learning’… where better to check out this observation than the neighbouring University of South Wales? From a distance it looks like a jumble of boxes have just fallen out of an overflowing cupboard…

Yet get up close and personal and it looks like someone put some creative thinking into producing a striking visual facade, rather than the more usual blandly boring box-like structures…

Gently strolling towards the side of the building and you see the dramatic change in design principles, as we view the areas less well observed by the masses of the architecturally unconcerned…

>>>>

Then, the coup de grace of my thesis, as we all recline in our pedestrian supremacy… and those pesky car drivers get their just desserts. The arse-end of the building offers nothing much of any visual delight. A car park is usually home to those who are more consumed in their own self-importance, and expressers of righteous indignation if they can’t travel their door-to-door journeys uninterrupted in their personal motorised cages. So why should they be regaled with visionary architecture?

Until we speak again feel free to undertake your own arse-end surveillance, in whatever guise sparks your creative juices. I will continue to be Inspired Juno on my meanderings around my local city.

A dead pubs crawl

Posted on December 3, 2014 by Steve Morgan

The recent fact that around 20,000 pubs have been closed down in the UK during the last couple of decades hardly caused me a ruffle of the whiskers. After all, us cool cats are much more sophisticated in our tastes… I am more concerned with preserving my premium wine stocks.

As far as I am concerned pubs are uncouth places where dogs are more likely to be found. However, my ‘resident old git’ seems somewhat more perplexed than I about this dilapidated state of affairs in the ‘world the beer guide forgot‘. It being the beginning of the season to be jolly, I thought I would send the thirsty one on a tour of modern day temperance; and there is no shortage of places in Cardiff you can no longer get a drink!

Whoever said that the pubs of today are being taken over by food has certainly been to The Neville recently. Unfortunately, it seems that this former favourite of fans of the local team has gone the whole hog, its become a local supermarket… so the only grog available here will be the discounted stuff better drunk out of a brown paper bag!

An even worse fate for The Splotlands, as the chances of even getting in the inn are now completely blocked. I hope the last customer at last orders managed to get out in time!

Black Friday and even Cyber Monday have now past us by, but anyone still in search of a bargain need look no further than downtown Butetown. The White Hart either finished off on a sale of its remaining stocks, or more likely has now become the subject of a sale.

But not all pubs are allowed to finally give up the ghost and die; take an amble along Constellation Street and you come across a fine residence that probably shouldn’t be… all hail local activism down at The Tredegar as people exert squatters rights as a means of keeping a grand old landmark in occupation other than by rats and mice.

Talking of rats and mice… just look what happens to a prestigious city centre site when you neglect history. The York Hotel might well have long since given up its final incarnation as an Indian restaurant, but it still serves as a grim reminder of former halcyon days.

My in-house beer monkey returned stoically sober after this particular pub crawl. Until we speak again I hope your pre-christmas crawling is to your satisfaction. Meanwhile I shall continue my duties as Wine Merchant Juno.

[With special thanks to my original guide and mentor into the world of blogging The Gentle Author for the original idea of the ‘Dead Pubs Crawl’].

Wind Power

Posted on October 11, 2014 by Steve Morgan

Wind turbines: Wind turbines 'killed goats' by depriving them of sleep As an indoor cat I don’t usually give much thought to the whole issue of renewable energy supplies, so long as at this time of year my in-house heating engineer remembers to turn the damn radiators on. But, there I was one day, minding my own business and continually being
interrupted by the background noise of some BBC Radio programmes, when some political dude starts rapping on about the state of the planet, and how all you humans are ruining it for cats like us.

Now I’m not averse to a little breeze around the whiskers from time to time, but this whole wind power thing seemed to be political dude’s answer to all of our problems. Only for a whole bunch of what were called NIMBY’s (Not in my back yard) to phone in proclaiming nothing but an ugly end to our beautiful environment. It seemed to a sophisticated cat like me that the whole political thing generates enough wind to keep me going in cat food for an eternity.

Then it dawned on me… perhaps local politics held a solution! With all of the recent passionate UK attention generated by politics in Scotland, followed by the immediate low point of interest generated by a bunch of numpty’s voting in the looney tunes of Ukip in the English constituency of Clacton, perhaps it would be to Wales, and more specifically my adopted home of Cardiff that we should turn for sustainable sources of wind.
There it was, right on my doorstep, the beached wooden stingray, aka The Senedd, aka the home of the Welsh Assembly… the ultimate source of hot air dressed up as a local seat of power!

On closer inspection it would appear the design of the building, whilst admirably made up of home grown sustainable sources of wood, steel and slate, also had the structural foresight for the job… the politicians are densely housed deep in the basement of the building, and directly above them is the large funnel for capturing the hot air…

Whilst panoramic views of Cardiff Bay are afforded out of the glass-lined walls, I couldn’t help but think that this also doubled-up as a means of bringing light into proceedings on those occasions when the incumbent politicians were away from their energy-sapping deliberations, desperately searching for the elusive voter.

It seems like all of the heat and air generated by debates on the relationship between the Westminster bubble and the Cardiff Bay mushroom has caused structural damage through severe bowing of The Senedd roof…

… so my next question is where to store all of this wind power to ensure our sustainable energy supplies? The Millenium Stadium has a closable roof and vast acres of space… what goes on in there most of the time? Until we speak again this has been Political Juno engaging the wrath of a nation’s rugby fans.

Ton Up

Posted on September 20, 2014 by Steve Morgan

Who said cats can’t write? Welcome to my 101st post in the last 15 months. To celebrate the milestone (or is that millstone?) I have reviewed those moments represented across the first 100 posts. Here are some of my highlights, but who would blame you for summoning up the spectre of Room 101 in which to consign my reminiscences.

Eating al fresco, who doesn’t love it? My favourite meal…

Then there are those moments of personal contemplation. But it took a trip to Southend for my favourite philosophical musing (particularly reminding me of the resident numpty)…

I hear that health & safety has gone completely mad in your human world, but even I was taken aback by the locals need to restrict the age-old childhood rite of passage… tree-climbing:

The cultural history of Wales has apparently been partly shaped by the fire and brimstone oratory of the Baptist Minister, but my favourite religious moment has to be the shock declaration that even Jesus elaborates on the truth from time to time…

But there is no denying that Cardiff has established itself on the world music map, as its many venues play host to top quality talent. My favourite girl band (Pecker and the Birds) played a surprise concert at the little known Bute East Dock venue…

But while the masses were enjoying themselves at the free concert my favourite burglar was quick to seize on the opportunity to check out any potential opportunities for plunder…

The penultimate word has to belong to the guy who never stops giving; so tell me Sean, how successful do you think my blog has been so far?

Always the harsh critic… in the meantime until we speak again this has been Thespian Juno wishing you many more moments of literary and visual enjoyment.

Requiem for peace

Posted on September 6, 2014 by Steve Morgan

Since being dragged from the maelstrom of London life to the comparatively slower paced Cardiff, by the one who strangely believes themselves to own me, I have come to consider my home as a place of tranquility and peace by the sea. Little did I realise just how much the face of peace was dramatically changing. It seems to me that peace used to be achieved slowly by degrees; but now it is commanded by decrees! Cardiff Bay has played host to a gentle sign of peace since March 2012, when the World Harmony Peace Statue was unveiled, with particular recognition of Cardiff’s role as one of the first multicultural centres in the UK…

Listening in on the radio to daily news reports suggested to me a world out there, beyond Cardiff, that was altogether less calm… known to many as Newport! Then there has been the North Atlantic Treaty Organisation (NATO), a symbol of post World War II peace, coming to places near me and radically shifting my picture of what peace looks like as the 21st century progresses (if progress is the right implication!). Who would have thought it… that a bunch of world leaders could come to Newport and Cardiff and create even more wind and hot air than the usual incumbents of Cardiff Bay down at the Senedd (Welsh Government building)?

So, what does peace look like in this contemporary world of ours? For a start, the World Harmony Peace Statue now appears to need protective fences and security personnel of its own…

And just in case that isn’t enough, the Bay plays host to water-based hardware from around Europe, with the UK warship HMS Duncan and the French warship La Motte-Picquet, among many others, providing the neighbouring Dr Who Experience plenty of reasons to maintain a lower than usual profile…

Those pesky shoppers in the city centre also seem to need a bit more control exerting over their more exuberant tendencies, completed off with some new high profile ‘retail flow management systems’, and something approaching a personally allocated police officer for every individual shopper…

If you hold any concerns that peace and harmony might just be the type of ethereal concepts that can easily slip from your grasp… no such problem anymore. There is nothing like a few hundred yards of shiny metal for corralling peace and harmony into more easily manageable geography…

But even a brave cat like me wasn’t going to point a camera phone in the faces of these guys, brought in specially to smile and chat with the locals as they were going about the usual business of strolling around a city centre [With thanks to BBC News Online and Flickr Images]:

Armed police in Cardiff Then you can always instil a little peace into the grumbling locals with a colourful display of Red Arrows like hardware. Nothing like a pretty distraction for contemporary camera-phone society, giving the local residents something to bore the world of social media with for an attention span approaching a few seconds, until the next snippet of inane celebrity gossip hits the airwaves [thanks to Mike Griffiths on Twitter for the image]:

Bwwuvgdciaixvgr

So, my prospective war-mongerers, until we speak again this is President Juno offering you the international feline salute of peace, and instructing you to be harmonious and peaceful.

Culinary adornment

Posted on August 30, 2014 by Steve Morgan

So, that’s where the ancestors went wrong… a 25 foot high solid wall clearly wasn’t enough to keep the historic hordes of marauding cats out, particularly at banqueting time. Cardiff discovers that every good castle needs the unfathomable wisdom of an ugly Health & Safety intervention. Just add a 10 foot high steel fence, and you too can commune with your local population, delivering a message that something special is happening here, but you’re not invited!

Clearly somebody forgot to tell Batman… a fence and a high visibility cone threat will do nothing to deter a super hero with a skateboard. As for the subtle human addition to the high-vis security… just set your egg-timer to suss out the frequency of patrols by plods-on-wheels cycling the whole perimeter of the prolateriat-diner-exclusion-zone…

So, what is all the fuss about, you ask? NATO are holding a summit… somewhere else!!! Yes, the summit is in Newport, about 15 miles away. Maybe, my reader, you have been to Newport, in which case you know it doesn’t need anything added in order to be twinned with cold war Berlin, or the present day West Bank or Gazza Strip! Cardiff largely ignores its scruffier little neighbour, and instead casts its ambitions wider by adapting the model of the Green Line in Nicosia, Cyprus, with a contemporary version of their no-man’s land.

It seems that dining out just got very expensive for all the residents of Cardiff, even though they will not be invited to the table themselves. The grandest nosh on the planet takes place in the setting of Cardiff Castle, providing the main distraction for world leaders desperate to get together to say nothing of any significance about a whole load of very significant world issues. As an exclusive meal it takes some beating, with a leeked preview (is that the Welsh version of ‘leaked’?) of the indigenous menu of laver bread starter…

… cawl main, and Welsh cakes for pudding…

… all washed down with a pint of Brains finest SA.

The unanswered conundrum is why a meal that lasts no more than a few hours requires a month of security measures? Until we speak again send you answers nailed to the forehead of a peaceful protester to a somewhat disillusioned Juno.

funny cats [Thanks to http://www.sodahead.com as the source of this image, and gypsy-willow.com for the previous food images].

	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

Category Archives: Cats in Cardiff