Hi daddy!  What’s going off?

      I have decided to try and get a little further with building my family tree, Mr Midnight.

      Isn’t that one of those flashy green things which move about when the air angels touch them in the green kingdom?  You wouldn’t get one of those things in this little room, daddy.

You humans are sometimes baffling.

      I don’t think daddy means a real tree, Mr Mids. I think he’s planning to build a tree on paper.

      Well, not exactly, Sir Winston. You were correct in your assumption that I am building a tree on paper, but because you are a cat,  it is not a tree which you will know much about.

Basically, a family tree is a kind of chart showing all past members of a family from their descent in history.

      So you don’t have to water it then?

      If you did, you would spoil it, Mr Midnight.

In a way I suspect that I am a little bit like you two cats – inquisitive.  I am trying to find out where my anscetors, or past members of my family,  come from, purely out of inquisitiveness.

      Well, that seems like a complete waste of time to me, daddy. The good people are not here anymore.  What a strange way to pass the time.

      Well, I find it most interesting.

      You would, Sir Winston. You are somewhat of a fuddy duddy, aren’t you.

      How far have you managed to get, daddy?  I’d like to know.

      Up until now, among many others, I have managed to find a Morton Clarke who was born in England in 1420.  That’s quite a long time ago. That’s 21 generations ago.

      We cats do not know what generations are, daddy. Is a generation something to do with your “time” measurement thingy? That chappie you mentioned appears to be an old gent.

     Generations are different age gaps relating to our ancestors. Mr Clarke would be 600 years old if he still lived.

      You human beings do like living in the past. Pussycats enjoy living in the moment because it is in the moment where life happens.

      Sir Winston is correct, daddy. It’s the moment which matters. Not the past. We pussies can’t remember a thing about our past and we don’t need a tree thingamabob to try and remember. Still, if it gives you pleasure.

By the way, Mr Dog next door obviously still needs a tree, but obviously, for other reasons.  😉

      Doggies could learn a thing or two from us pussycats!

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