gotta stop eatin' cheese

Do I or don't I?  Hmmm...  No.  I shouldn't.   I turned my back to the plate of cheese on the kitchen counter. On the other paw...

Snatchin' a piece of cheese in my mouth, I jumped down from the counter before the peeps discovered I had been up there.

I set the piece of cheese down on the floor.  This was clearly a situation that necessitated a sober, second thought.

As a cat, thievery was not beneath me. No, a little thievery done in moderation was actually quite cat-like.  But the eating of cheese...  That was somethin' else, entirely.  I thought back to the cheese-snackin' induced dream I once had in which I met The Big Cheese himself, not to mention a whole bunch of other mice instructin' me on the plural form of mouse.  MOUSES!  Dare I risk another dream like that?  

Do I?  Don't I?  Hmmm...    Don't I?  Do I?  Well...  it was a very intererestin' dream...

I scarfed down the piece of cheese, washed my face with a paw and trotted back into the family room, settling in for a little nap.

It wasn't long before I sensed a pair of eyes watchin' me.  I opened one eye of my own and saw, starin' back at me, a mouse.  MOUSES!

"Er-hrm...   Nerissa?  Nerissa the Cat, Sir?  Remember me?  We met a few months ago.  M1 is the name," and the mouse extended a paw.  "We're in need of your assistance, once more."

I got up and followed the mouse into that great, red hall just as I had in my dream, once before. "The Great Canadian Cheese Conspiracy not settled, yet?" I asked the mouse.

"Actually, no," admitted little M1.  "The Royal Canadian Mouseland Police are still investigating that but we have another issue at paw.  An even greater one than before.  The very fabric of our society is at risk!"

"MOUSES!" I cried.

As I expected I would, I heard a small voice, echoing within the chamber, "Mice.  The plural of mouse, is mice."  Those darned grammar mice, I thought.

I stared at the many mice before me, looking for the one they called The Big Cheese.  Sure enough, there he was, chowing down on a chunk of Gorgonzola.  The ripe aroma tickled my nose and I sneezed.  Gosh that was stinky stuff.

As in my previous dream with the mice, the details at paw mysteriously and magically appeared in my mind.  I immediately knew of the troubles facing The Big Cheese and the mice working in the great hall.  I sat down, lifted a leg and began to wash my tail-end.

Finished with my washing, I looked around at the mice.  They all stared back at me with the exception of The Big Cheese who was still eating his Gorgonzola.  Finally, he looked up at me with those steely blue eyes.  "It's you," he said.

"Yes, it is I," I replied.  "Causing trouble once more, are we?"

The Big Cheese narrowed his eyes.  "It is not I making the trouble.  It's the mice.  Mice across the the land are complaining.  I keep telling them what they think but they're not listening.  Instead, they're complaining," he explained.

"Umm....  yeah....  'bout that," I began. "Let me just get this straight.  As the Big Cheese, you're expected to appoint mice to the Canadian Cheese Consortium, making sure there are always one hundred and five mice at any one time, correct?"  I waved away his response, "Don't bother answering 'til I finish.  You've been makin' appointments to the Consortium but at the very same time, you've been questioning the need for the Consortium in the first place, correct?  You've actually been tellin' the mice of the land that none of them want the Consortium, either.  And yet you continue to appoint appointees, most of whom appear to be your friends."

I stared pointedly at The Big Cheese, waitin' for a response.  He just sat there, eatin' more stinky cheese.

"Okay...." I began once more.  "From what I understand, the appointees to the Canadian Cheese Consortium are supposed to represent the various types of cheese bein' manufactured, sold and eaten by mice throughout the land.  They're supposed to represent the hard, semi-hard, semi-soft and soft cheese divisions, equally.  The Consortium was designed in this manner over a century ago to make sure that all types of cheese manufactured were bein' treated fairly and equally.  So that the most popular types didn't take over the whole Consortium, wreakin' havoc across Mouseland."

The Big Cheese continued to eat his stinky cheese.

"Yes, yes!" the other mice piped up in unison.  "That's how it works, exactly.  We can't have one cheese division takin' over the entire Consortium.  The only way to safeguard the rights of the less-eaten cheeses, is to allow them equal representation in the Consortium!"

The Big Cheese stopped chewin' on his cheese and glared at the mice around him.  "I get to appoint whomever I like to the Consortium.  I'M THE BIG CHEESE.  If I want to appoint all Gorgonzola lovers to the Consortium, I'm allowed to do just that.  It's kind of a tradition."

"Ah yes," I interrupted, "but you're havin' troubles with the Cheddar and Mozzarella factions, are you not?"

"Only because I haven't yet appointed enough of the Gorgonzolas!" cried The Big Cheese.

"MOUSES!  Can't you see what's wrong?" I asked The Big Cheese.  "First of all, you can't go around tellin' all the other mice what they think.  That's gonna cause nothin' but trouble."

"Secondly," I continued, "You have factions within the Consortium who appear to be workin' in ways they shouldn't be workin'.  The appointees are supposed to be representin' the various divisions of cheese.  They are NOT supposed to be representin' you!  And yet you continue to appoint Gorgonzola lovers to the Consortium, knowin' full well you're only appointin' your pals 'cause they all love Gorgonzola like you!"

"But that's what has always been done," and for just a moment, I thought I saw The Big Cheese falter.

"BUT THAT'S NOT WHAT WAS MEANT TO BE DONE!" I cried.

"Luckily for you,"  I told The Big Cheese, "I have a solution.  Why don't you let the leaders of each cheese division choose whom you should appoint.  They know best who would be able to represent them.  Ask them for suggestions and then you appoint whomever they suggest.  I'm sure there will be some Gorgonzola lovers in the bunch but there will also be some Cheddar and Mozzarella lovers, too.  You'll have a nice balance and they'll be representin' the mice they're supposed to represent. What's more, if there any problems," I added in a low voice, "you can always pawn the blame off on the divisional mice who made the suggestions."

"But if I don't appoint my friends to the Consortium, how can I guarantee that they'll do what I tell them to do?" asked The Big Cheese.

"Well...  Well you can't but really, that's the whole point of my suggestion," I answered with a sigh.

The Big Cheese stuffed another chunk of Gorgonzola into his mouth and with a cheese-chewin' muffled voice said, "THAT DOESN'T WORK FOR ME AT ALL."

With a cry of frustration I yelled, "MOUSES!"

I turned to the other mice and explained, "I'm afraid I can't do anythin' with him.  He's just not listenin'."

"Watch what you're saying there, cat," growled The Big Cheese.

I have got to stop eatin' cheese, I thought to myself.  Any more cheese-induced dreams like this and I'll drive myself silly.  MOUSES!

Awaking with a start I thought I heard a small voice off in the distance sayin', "Mice.  The plural form of mouse, is mice."

MOUSES!!!

this is gonna be great

Looks like Bird TV is expandin'.  This is gonna be great.

The other day, Peep #1 was putterin' around in the garden, not doin' much but makin' a mess, really, when she finally made somethin' worthwhile. She made a discovery.

Nestled in and around the big multiflora rose in my bark yard, were a whole bunch of baby multiflora roses.  Only, they weren't really babies.  They were actually quite big.

You see, this particular rose bush, arches.  Yeah...  it makes arches.  Its branches or whatever grow up and then out and then arch right over and down until the tips of those branches touch the earth. This bush is one of the many sources of my faerie bowers about which I blogged a couple of summers ago.  Those branches arch over like a bridge but the rose isn't that big so peeps can't cross that particular bridge.  Neither can cats.  We're too heavy.  A squirrel might make it over. Maybe one of those little red squirrels but not the big monstrous grey ones.  Perfect sized bridge for faeries though, I should think.  But I digress...

We were talkin' about how the branches arched over and how the tips of those branches touched the earth or in this case, lawn or somethin' tryin' to pass itself off as a lawn.  Anywho...  the peep discovered that in a whole bunch of places where the tips of those branches had touched the ground, they had sprouted roots!

These baby roses probably took root last summer and fall, says the peep, but she never noticed 'cause of all the leaves and flowers and whatnot on the bushes.  Not to mention the faeries.

So after makin' her great discovery, Peep #1 got out the spade and some plant pots and potted up a whole whack of those rose bushes.  About a dozen of 'em, I believe.  Some will be donated to the plant sale for the animal shelter but five of them are gonna be used in the design of a new set right here in my garden.  That's right...  Bird TV is gettin' a new and improved set for its 2015 season.  Yoo-hoo!  YOO-HOO!

You see, those multiflora roses - or Rosa multiflora for those who wish to use their botanical name - are of great interest to the wildlife livin' in my garden as well as the peeps livin' in my house.  In early summer, the bushes are covered in flowers with a most heavenly, honey-like scent.  Peep #1 walks about with her snoot in the air, breathin' in the delicious scent of the roses and the bees come for the pollen, in droves.  Those bees pollinate the flowers so that in the fall, little rose hips form.  The birds love 'em.

Once, I think I saw a pheasant over by the big mama bush but I'm not sure that he was actually after the rose hips.  Might have been after somethin' else.  And yes, the rose bush is now a mama on account of her havin' all those babies and whatnot.

But the Robin Channel!  The robins who star in the Robin Show over on the Robin Channel....  they LOVE those little rose hips.

Okay, I'm not actually sure that they're robins.  Everyone 'round here calls 'em robins except for my second peep who calls 'em North American thrushes.  They do have red breasts like robins but it's quite possible they're actually thrushes in costume or somethin'.  Those Bird TV make-up artists might have put some blusher on their breasts or whatever.  Who knows?  Could Peep #2 be right about this? Stranger things have happened...

But whether they're robins or thrushes disguised as robins, they love the little rose hips that grow on those bushes. Earlier this year, I watched 'em absolutely devour every single rose hip on the multiflora rose in the back yard and the one in the front, too.

The Robin Show was extremely excitin' this year on account of all the robins, or whatever they're callin' themselves these days, eatin' those rose hips and then flyin' up to the old oak tree which does not have a yellow ribbon on it and then flying back down for more hips.

MOUSES!  I just had a thought.  Maybe...  Maybe the Robin Show is starrin' North American thrushes pretendin' to be robins.  They're actors.  Actors do that kind of thing all the time, right?  I mean, did William Shatner really fly around in space in a starship or was he just actin'?  And how 'bout that Garfield?  Did he really eat all that lasagna or did he really just act the part?  You decide. Oh, and how 'bout those peeps starrin' in the Senate scandal?  You know, that show filmed in Ottawa.  Wait a minute, those peeps weren't actors.  Those peeps were politicians.  Silly me.

Anywho...  back to the Robin Show on Bird TV.  Looks like they're gonna have a super-duper nicely expanded set for upcoming seasons with all those new rose bushes goin' in. Bet they'll expand the cast and everything.  Bet they'll expand the season!  Oohhh....  I can't wait.  Bet it's gonna win an Emmy, for sure.

they were delish!

Sccrrrrmmmpph....  nmnmnmnmnm....   sccrrrmmmpph....   sccrrrmmmpph... nmnmnmnmnm...

MOUSES!  What's goin' on in my house? What are those noises?  Oh Peepers....   I think there's a wild animal in the kitchen. You wanna check that out?  See what kind of beast is in my house?  Perhaps a horde of raccoons broke in and are makin' a mess in there.

Oh Peepers...  Oh Peepers....  OH PEEPERS!  You gonna check on that for me?  No?  Why not?  FINE.  I'll go check on it myself.  MOUSES!

This occurred at my house, last night and when I went to investigate further, what did I find?  I found my brother Rushton munching away at a bowl of dry food.  He was munchin' so voraciously - bet you didn't know I knew the word voraciously - that he was practically inhalin' the kibble and makin' all those weird noises.  MOUSES!

A few hours earlier I, too, had been munchin' away on that very same food.  It was delish!

A little while ago, my good pal Basil who works over at Harringtons - The Natural Choice pet foods, asked me to do a product review of their cat food.  I don't do a lot of product reviews but I had heard good things about the Harringtons foods and Basil is a super great pal so for my pal Basil, I decided that a review was in order.

I was oh-so-very-excited when the peep came home one day and told me I had received mail.  I love gettin' mail and when the mail is a box filled with food, well...  Well let's just say that that's some pretty good mail, indeed.  A few days later, a courier arrived with a smaller package, also for me.  In that parcel were four packages of treats from Harringtons.  Four of 'em!  Another great delivery.

Unfortunately, it was around that time that the Great Flood of 2014 occurred and knocked out the furnace, leaving us without heat or hot water for two whole weeks and so Peep #1 put the box of food and treats away in my office until things were sorted and life was back to normal.  As if life livin' with a cat like me could ever be considered normal.  Silly peeps.

I was waitin' and waitin' and WAITIN' to do my product review.  Okay, I was waitin' and waitin' and WAITIN' to do the taste test really, until I could wait no longer.  Finally, one day about a week ago, I decided to just help myself to a package of those treats.  Yup, that's just what I did.  I got into that box and hauled out a bag of treats.

Apparently, once you claw a hole in a treat bag, the delicious aroma of the treats inside overwhelms you to the point where not havin' those treats becomes absolutely unbearable which gives you the necessary motivation to give your peeps those looks that will eventually, undoubtedly, make your peeps give you some of those treats.  So then there were three...  three bags of treats left 'cause I ate a whole bag myself over the course of a couple of days in my office.  They were delish!

After that, the box containin' the food and treats was packaged up with the ends tucked in, in a manner preventin' me from any further access.  MOUSES!

But yesterday was the day that the furnace was repaired and heat and hot water were restored to my house so yesterday was the day of the great unveiling.  The day for the taste test had arrived.

Peep #1 filled up two bowls of Harringtons food for us.  In one bowl she put Chicken with Rice and in the other, Salmon and Rice.  Both bowls were placed, side by side, on a tray in the kitchen.  I immediately went for the chicken variety as did my auntie Blossom later on and even my brother Seville who, I don't think is supposed to be havin' anything other than his special-special 'cause of his crystals issues but Peep #1 let him have a bit 'cause he was pretty excited about the whole taste testin' thing that was goin' on.  My brother Rushton went straight for the salmon variety.  I would have liked to have tried the salmon one too but Rushy was hoggin' the bowl and not givin' the rest of us a chance to test it out.

Turns out, both varieties passed the taste test with flying colours 'cause this mornin', the bowls were completely empty.  COMPLETELY EMPTY, I say.  Yup, overnight we cats ate every single piece and let me tell you, they were delish!

I did some checkin' on the Harringtons - The Natural Choice website and found some stuff out. Firstly, their foods are suitable for all cats, eight weeks and older.  That means that all ten of us at my house are old enough.  Good news.

Secondly, I discovered that both the Chicken with Rice and the Salmon with Rice varieties have some super good ingredients.  They contain REAL chicken and salmon and REAL rice and some extra-special things to promote good health.  Probiotics for healthy digestion, taurine for a healthy heart and eyes, cranberry for urinary tract health and omega 3 for supple skin and a glossy coat.  There were also some vitamins, a good supply of calcium and protein levels at almost thirty percent.  EXCELLENT.  Yup, lots and lots of good stuff to keep us kitties healthy.

Finally, there are some things these foods do not contain.  Both formulae are completely free from dairy, soya, beef, artificial colours, artificial flavours and preservatives.  Oh, and there is no added wheat, either.  Apparently, these ingredients are things that might be unhealthy for kitties to eat so you'll find none of 'em in Harringtons cat food.

Now let's see...  Harringtons - The Natural Choice cat food seems to have some pretty high standards, nutritionally and as I said before, it passed the taste test with flying colours.  What about the final test?  The final test would be price and availability.

I did some checkin' and found that here in Canada, the price of the 2kg sized bags of Chicken with Rice and Salmon with Rice is very reasonable.  It's right in the same range as what the peeps have been gettin' at the grocery store.

Availability, however, is a bit of an issue.  I could only find one Canadian supplier of the food which was Walmart.  We have a Walmart locally so I'll send the peep to check out whether or not they carry it in their store.  The peep has been avoidin' goin' to stores for the past couple of weeks 'cause of the lack of hot water issue in our house but now that that has been resolved, she will be able to run errands for me once more.  But the food was definitely available to purchase on-line so it IS available here in Canada.  Unfortunately, I could not find those delicious liver or hairball formula treats anywhere but I shall keep on looking 'cause, like I said, they were delish!

On the other paw, Harringtons - The Natural Choice is available at lots of stores in the UK, a couple of which I even recognised.  Yup, I knew the name Sainsbury's 'cause I think it was once mentioned on Are You Being Served and I'm sure there's a Tescos on Coronation Street.  Clearly, we cats learn lots of stuff from watchin' British television.  But I digress...

But my digression has reminded me of somethin' really important.  Harringtons - The Natural Choice cat foods are manufactured in the UK.  My peeps try very hard to buy Canadian whenever possible but really, buyin' from the UK is the next best thing 'cause as a Canadian kitty, I have a British heritage.  We share the same Queen!  And you know what they say about cats bein' able to look at queens....

And that reminds me.  It sure would be nice if Prince George someday had a baby sister named Princess Nerissa.  Yeah, Princess Nerissa...  What a great name that would be. Don't you agree?


***  And now to make everythin' all legal and whatnot.  I was not paid in any way, shape or form by Harringtons - The Natural Choice Pet Foods to do this product review.  I did receive two, two kilogram bags of food along with four bags of treats but absolutely no monetary payment was made. Neither the free food, my prior friendship with Basil nor the complementary box in which the food was shipped influenced my opinions of the products.  My opinions are my own, are not for sale and cannot be influenced.   MOUSES!

savin' Easter morning

"Nip-filled eggs?  Not a bad idea there, Seville.  Remind me to work up some plans when we get home but first things first."  Nerissa turned to the rabbit and said, "Please, take us to this chocolate vault."

The rabbit led the two cats into the castle, otherwise known as Easter Bunny Headquarters.  They went through a great hall and down several flights of stairs.  Climbing further and further into the bowls of the castle, Nissy began to wonder if they would eventually reach the centre of the earth.

Finally, their downward ascent stopped and they began to walk through a long tunnel.  At the end of the tunnel, they came upon a set of large, iron gates.  Beyond the gates were the chocolate eggs meant to be delivered by the Easter Bunny on Easter morning.

The cats stared into the vault.  "That's a lot of eggs," they said in unison.

"Four billion, nine hundred and sixty-three million, two hundred and fourteen thousand, eight hundred and eleven to be exact," the rabbit informed them.

The two cats looked at one another and then back at the vault doors.  "Yup, that's a whole lot of eggs," they stated again.

Nissy sniffed around him, detecting the smell of chocolate mingling with musty air.  "You really ought to get some better ventilation down here," he suggested to the rabbit before inspecting the large lock, firmly adhered to the gate.

Seville sniffed at the lock.  "It's just a lock, Nerissa.  I think we can maybe break it off if we can't find the key.  Don't know why the rabbits didn't think of that before."

"Because the lock is magic," the rabbit informed them.   "It's a magic lock.  If anyone should attempt to open it without the proper key, the unthinkable will happen."

"The unthinkable?" asked Seville.  "What would that be?"

"Well we don't actually know...  exactly," explained the rabbit, "because it's...  it's...  Well, because it's unthinkable.  It would be very, very bad.  We NEED that key."

"Then let's get down to business," began Nissy.  "You told us that the key was either lost or stolen. Let's search the area around the vault in case it was simply misplaced.  I know that my peeps lose keys all the time.  Quite possible that the key was just dropped or something around here."

Nerissa and Seville quickly searched the area around the vault doors as well as up and down the tunnel but to no avail.  There wasn't a trace of a key to be found anywhere and Nissy began to wonder if the Easter Bunny had been wrong to entrust him with the task of saving Easter morning. Leaning back against the tunnel wall, he let out a long sigh.

Nissy's sigh turned into a cry as the wall upon which he was leaning gave way and he found himself tumbling backwards into another tunnel.

Seville immediately came to his brother's rescue, helping him up onto his four paws again.  "You okay there, Nissy?" he asked.

"I'm fine Sivvers but look at this.  It's some sort of secret tunnel that branches off the main one.  Did you know about this?" he asked the rabbit.

"I had no idea this was here."  The rabbit squinted, trying to peer down the tunnel.  "There's no lighting in there. No self-respecting rabbit would ever use it."

Sure enough, unlike the main tunnel which had been lined with brightly burning torches, the walls of this secondary tunnel were bare.  As cats, Nerissa and Seville could see easily enough with only the little light that bled in from the main tunnel but other species would have far more difficulty.

"You stay there," Nerissa instructed the rabbit, "while Seville and I investigate further."

The two cats quietly padded down the secondary tunnel, making their way around chocolate eggs scattered here and there on the floor.  Eventually, Seville came upon a small piece of paper.  "Look at this," he said to Nerissa.  "Appears to have been torn from a notebook or something.  There are some numbers scribbled on it and it's covered in stains."

Nissy snatched the paper from his brother's paw and gave it a sniff.  "Hmmm..   It smells of chocolate.  The stains on this note are melted chocolate.  Sivvers, you found a clue!"

The cats continued along at a faster pace.  They were in hot pursuit of the missing key and their excitement was mounting.  The tunnel took a sharp turn and they found themselves standing before a wooden door.

Nissy pawed at the door knob and the door opened, inwardly with a creak, revealing a small office barely large enough to house the wooden desk and chair, inside.

Nissy jumped up onto the desk to inspect a large book that had been left open.  "This book is all about commodity prices," he told his brother.  "It's open to a chapter about the commodity pricing of cocoa.  And just look at this!" and he pointed to the iron key resting gently inside the book.

"Never mind that.  Take a look at the portrait hanging on the wall," Seville suggested to Nerissa. "That egg look familiar to you?"

"Do you know what this means?" Nerissa said to his brother.  "That egg who goes by the name of Mr. Egg Sackly has stolen the key to the chocolate vault himself in an attempt to manipulate the world commodity prices of cocoa.  And he did so right underneath the Easter Bunny's nose!  The audacity of that egg.  Can you believe it?"

"What an egghead," piped in Seville.

"And just who are you calling an egghead?"

The cats turned toward the door to see Egg Sackly standing there, blocking their path out of the office.  The egg had an evil grin on his face.

"I see you've discovered my plans, you two little meddling furballs.  How dare you waltz into my private domain."

"How dare we..." sputtered Nerissa.   "How dare you attempt to ruin Easter morning for children all around the world."

"For generations," rambled on Sackly, "Easter Bunnies have been delivering chocolate eggs to children, belittling the perfection of my ancestry.  The perfection that is the egg.  My namesake.  My very being.  And every year, those rabbits get all the glory for hopping around the world, delivering wonderful, beautiful eggs.  Well it's high time that we eggs see some benefits from Easter morning.  If we can't have the glory, we can at least make a profit from it."  The egg began to prance around the small office which, for an egg with no legs, was quite a feat.

Seeing an opportunity to escape, Nerissa wrapped his mouth around the iron key and at the very same time he yelled, "RUN!" to his brother.  The two cats headed down the secondary tunnel at top speed with Egg Sackly rolling in hot pursuit behind them.

The boys ran as fast as their paws would carry them, skidding into the main tunnel and coming to a halt as they slammed against the tunnel wall.  Moments later, Egg Sackly hit the same wall with a loud, resounding crack.

"Ewwww...." Nissy cringed.

"Yup, that's gotta hurt," agreed Seville.

Nerissa handed over the iron key to the chocolate vault to the rabbit before he and Seville explained all they had discovered in Egg Sackly's office.

"We'll get him the help he needs," the rabbit told the cats.  "Tsk, tsk, tsk..."  the rabbit muttered. "Imagine thinking he could get away with such a thing.  Just wait until the Easter Bunny hears about this."

As Egg Sackly was being carted off to hospital Nerissa, Seville and the rabbit made their way out of the tunnel, through the castle's great hall and into the sunshine.  Nerissa sniffed the fresh air and revelled in the warmth of the sun, caressing his nose.  Seville took a swipe at a butterfly that dared to fly a little too close to him but thankfully for the butterfly, he missed.

The Easter Bunny is ever-so-grateful for all your assistance today, a rabbit informed the two cats. "He says that the two of you really saved Easter morning for children all around the world and wanted me to give you this giant chocolate egg for your Peep #1.  She's a little too old to be having the Easter Bunny stop by on Easter morning but he remembers that she always did love her chocolate."

"Did?  Did you say did?  As in past tense?" asked Seville incredulously.  "Ol' Peepers is still currently a true fiend of the chocolate."

"Yeah, I think the Easter Bunny probably knows that, Seville," Nerissa informed his brother before turning back to the rabbit.  "We will be very pleased to accept this giant chocolate egg and I'm sure the Easter Bunny will understand how Seville and I will have to tell the peep that it's from us cats. Peep #1 has been cracking down on our teleportin' as we seem to have had a few uh...  ummm..."

"We've been gettin' into a lot trouble teleportin' around the world and messin' stuff up, is what Nerissa is trying to say," Seville blurted out.  "Honestly, I don't see what the trouble is.  So we messed up the space-time continuum a few times..."

"Anywho..." interrupted Nerissa. "SIVVERS....  PREPARE THE TELEPORTATION DEVICE," he cried and with that, the boys climbed into their flying frying pan with the giant chocolate egg nestled between them.

"As long as this egg really is made of chocolate and doesn't sprout arms and a desire to take over the world cocoa commodities market," Nerissa muttered.  "As long as it's just a plain ol' chocolate egg, the peep should be pretty pleased with what we've brought her, Seville.  Pleased enough to ignore the fact that we've been teleportin' again."

The two cats stared at the giant egg for a moment.

"Yeah, I think it's okay," stated Seville.  "It smells like chocolate to me."

a request for assistance

Nissy raced into the kitchen.  The toaster transporter was dinging incessantly and he knew there must be an urgent message awaiting him. Skidding to a halt and hopping up onto the counter, he peered into the toaster.

"Yeah, would you mind answering that toaster?" Seville asked.  "The dinging is annoying.  It's disturbing my nap."

Nissy glanced over his shoulder to see his marmalade brother curled up on a kitchen chair.  Obviously, Seville had not considered to get up himself to see what message was coming through. Nissy watched as his brother let out a giant yawn, closed his eyes once more and fell back asleep.

Scattered around the toaster were several hard-boiled eggs, each painted with the letters S, O and S.  Another ding coughed up a couple more.  Clearly, someone was in trouble and needing his help.

A loud explosion in the back yard startled Seville, awakening him from his nap so violently that it caused him to jump straight up into the air and hit his head on the ceiling.  "For crying out loud!" he cried.

Nissy looked out the kitchen window.  The sky had darkened and the air had become hazy.  A pinprick of light appeared out of nowhere and from it, time waves began to emanate.  This anomaly was going to require immediate investigation.

Venturing outside, Nissy cautiously approached the disturbance in the space-time continuum. "What the mouses is that?" he asked Seville who had followed him outside and was now sitting beside him.  "MOUSES!  I've never seen anything like it.  Have you?"

The two cats watched as hundreds of butterflies began to fly out of the vortex.  Never before had a vortex created a butterfly effect.  Whoever had opened it was certainly not using egg beater-whisk time travelling-teleportation technology.  Some other kind of technology was at work here.

Mesmerised, the cats sat there, watching the butterflies flit this way and that.  Seville swatted a couple with a paw but they escaped, unscathed.  Moments later, there was a loud thud and out of the vortex rolled a giant painted egg.  The egg righted itself and out popped two arms.  As it came to life, a face appeared.

"MOUSES!" cried the cats in unison.

"Hello there.  Egg Sackly is the name," and the giant egg reached toward Nissy to shake his paw.  "You must be Nerissa the Cat.  Very pleased to meet you."  Turning to Seville he said, "and I assume you are the brother, Seville?"

The cats stared at Mr. Sackly in disbelief.

"You're probably wondering about my unexpected visit.  We've been sending messages to you all morning but your toaster transporter appears to be malfunctioning."

"Those eggs were from you?" Nissy asked.

"Ah, so you did get my messages.  Never thought to reply?" and the egg sighed loudly.

"Sorry 'bout that," explained Nissy.  "Only got the messages a few minutes ago and I didn't know from whom they were coming.  Please tell me what's going on and how I can help."

"We're facing a major catastrophe over at Easter Bunny Headquarters.  If the matter isn't resolved within the next few days, Easter morning egg deliveries will be in jeopardy.  In fact, they already are. This matter needs to be attended to urgently and the top bun felt you were the only cats for the job."

"You mean that the Easter Bunny himself has requested our assistance?" Seville asked, incredulously.

"He most certainly has although," and the egg cleared his throat, "he really requested the assistance of Nerissa the Cat but is aware that the marmalade side kick is part of the bargain."

"SIDE KICK!  Of all the nerve," sputtered Seville.  "I'll show you a kick," and he raised a hind leg. Thinking this might be going a little far, Seville lowered his leg before peering under Egg Sackly. "Ummm...  by the way, how come you don't have any legs?" he asked the egg.

"I'm an egg.  Eggs don't have legs," he answered.  Turning back to Nerissa the egg instructed, "You'll need to follow me back through the vortex.  Prepare to duck and roll."

Nissy peered into the vortex, narrowing his eyes.  "Yeah, I don't think we're gonna do the ol' ducking and rolling bit.  We have our own mode of transport.  SIVVERS," and he turned to his brother, "PREPARE THE TELEPORTATION DEVICE."

Moments later, the two cats and Mr. Egg Sackly were hurtling through space and time, heading towards Easter Bunny Headquarters.

"Can't this flying frying pan contraption go any faster," cried the egg?  "Time is of the essence.  Easter is at stake!"

"Faster?  You want to go faster?" asked Seville.  "I have the whisks whisking full blast.  We're travelling forward in space but backwards in time.  We'll arrive before you even left.  Gosh," he turned to Nerissa and hissed, "Eggs sure are impatient."

"And I think this one is a little soft in the centre," Nissy muttered under his breath.  "He seems to have forgotten just who is doin' whom the favours around here.  On the other paw, he might be feelin' a little nervous about bein' in...  well...  you know...  'Bout bein' in a fryin' pan, if you know what I mean.  I'm hopin' we'll get some better Intel once we can speak to an actual bunny."

Landing gently in a grassy field, the cats and egg climbed out of the frying pan teleportation device. Nissy had to admit that Egg Sackly was looking mightily relieved to be on solid ground, once more.

Nerissa looked around.  There were painted eggs scattered everywhere.  Scattered around like wild flowers growing amidst the grass.  Multitudes of butterflies danced in the air and Seville took another swipe at one.  It flew off, only to replaced by several others.   Off in the distance, loomed an ancient castle.  Nissy wondered if that castle was the Easter Bunny's Headquarters.

A small white rabbit approached them, hopping through the painted eggs.  "Nerissa?  Nerissa the Cat?  Thank goodness you are here!" the bunny exclaimed.

"Ummm...  are you the Easter Bunny?" Nissy asked.

"Goodness no!  But I do work here at Bunny Headquarters.  We have a real problem on our paws," stated the rabbit.  "Our only key to the chocolate vault has been either lost or stolen and without it, we can't access the goodies needed for Easter morning deliveries.  Millions of children around the world are eagerly awaiting Easter morning and without that key, we'll let them all down."

"But there are eggs all over the place," interrupted Seville, batting at one between his two front paws. "They're everywhere.  Just look at them all."

"That's just a drop in the bucket," explained the rabbit.  "We need far more than that.  We anticipate requiring approximately four billion, nine hundred and sixty-three million, two hundred and fourteen thousand, eight hundred and eleven chocolate eggs for Easter morning.  Also, seven million, eight hundred and sixty-two thousand, five hundred and forty..."

"Did you say, billion?" sputtered Seville.

"Did you say, approximately?" asked Nerissa.

"The point is," continued the rabbit, "we need access to that vault.  Nerissa, your reputation precedes you.  Only you and your brother are capable of returning that key to us.  Are you willing to accept this assignment?

Smiling broadly, Nerissa was just about to answer with a resounding yes when he was distracted by the sound of eggs cracking as Seville managed to smash two of them together.

"What?" asked Seville looking up, innocently.  "And by the way, have you ever thought of filling these things with nip?"


Be sure to return on Sunday April 20th for part two of the cats' Easter adventure.

a change of plans

What's that, Peepers?  What?  WHAT?

What do you mean, we have to change our plans?

But I don't want to.

Awww...   FINE.  MOUSES!

As many of you know, I was waitin' and waitin' and waitin' with great anticipation for the moment I hit one hundred thousand visits to my blog.  I was so excited and the peep said we could do somethin' special for the event. I had such plans...

First of all, I was gonna introduce a new award 'cause nothin' says celebrating like bling.  Well, bling and nip.  And speakin' of nip, I was gonna do a giveaway and yes, nip toys were to be involved.

Then came the flood.

For those of you who haven't heard, between all the snow meltin' and the torrential rain last Tuesday, the basement of my house is now a swimmin' pool.  That's right.  I have an indoor swimmin' pool in my house but, I assure you, there is to be no swimmin' in that pool.  This is not a pool party kind of situation, if you know what I mean.

But that's not the worst part.  The worst part is that on Wednesday mornin', the water came up high enough to knock out the furnace.  No furnace means no heat and no heat means no hot water. MOUSES!

Nothin' can be done about the furnace until the water table drops another eight inches or so.  At that point, the peeps will find out if the furnace can be repaired or if it needs to be replaced but none of that can be done until all that nasty ol' water recedes.  It's a waitin' game for now and as you all know, games that do not involve nip or wand toys are no fun at all.

We're all okay and that's the important thing, I think.  We still have power, too.  Thank goodness for that.  But I've got my paws full with a couple of super cranky peeps and I don't know WHAT I'm gonna do with them.  The first peep keeps sayin' somethin' about her feeling like she's living in the nineteenth century which really, isn't so bad.   I mean, I've travelled there myself, usin' egg beater-whisk time travelling-teleportation technology and seriously, there are worse places to travel to.

Anywho...  Back to the change of plans.

Peep #1 says that I can still introduce my new award but the giveaway has to be put on hold.  Put on hold until we have a working furnace, heat, hot water and the mess in the basement has been all cleaned up.  I don't exactly know how long it's gonna take but I've got my paws crossed that it won't be too long although knowin' my peeps...   MOUSES!  And I sure could do with all my pals out there crossing their paws for us, too.  I think that at times like this, the more crossed paws, the better.

In the meantime, let's talk bling.

My new award is called the Yoo-hoo! YOO-HOO! Award which, as you know, is one of my favourite sayings.  It's a saying just made for celebratin' and that's exactly what we're gonna do today.

The rules for acceptin' the Yoo-hoo! YOO-HOO! Award are pretty simple.
- Firstly, post the award on your blog and thank the blogger who gave it to you.
- Secondly, visit at least three of the blogs that are receiving the award along with you and leave a
  comment.
- Thirdly, tell us all three things you have to celebrate.  You know, three things for which you are
  thankful.
- Lastly, pass along the award to seven other bloggers and let them know you have done so.

Pretty easy, huh?

Oh, I need to list three things I have to celebrate.  Let's see...  Hmmm...

Well first of all, I'm celebrating having reached one hundred thousand visits to my blog.  Secondly, I'd like to celebrate the fact that unlike the peeps, this lack of hot water business has not affected MY bathin' schedule.  And thirdly, I'd like to celebrate that on Tuesday I'll be turnin' eleven.  That's right, Tuesday is my birthday although, truth be told, I'm thinkin' it's not gonna be much of one what with the indoor not-a-pool-party swimmin' pool in my basement thing goin' on.  MOUSES!

So without further ado, the first ever winners of the Yoo-hoo! YOO-HOO! Award are....

WAIT!!!  I have to mention that as this is the introduction, I shall be nominatin' twenty-one blogs, rather than seven 'cause I really wanna make sure the award gets off to a really good start.

And the nominees are....
- Savvy at Savannahs Paw Tracks
- the staff at Dash Kitten
- Herman at It's a Wonderpurr Life
- Sparkle at Sparkle the Designer Cat
- Crepes at Cat in the Fridge
- the Kitties Blue at The CAT on my HEAD
- Sammy at onespoiledcat
- the gang at Owned by a Husky
- Spitty at Spitty Speaks
- Speedy at Speedy the Cheeky House Bunny
- Hisiableue at Bleue comme Aby
- Nylablue at Nylablue & Sherriellen's Purrfect Pad
- Austin at CATachresis
- Brian at Brian's Home
- Derby & Ducky at Derby and Ducky
- Hailey & Zaphod at The Hailey and Zaphod Chronicles
- Marty at MusingsbyMartyManx
- Whipple & Pepper at Whipple & Pepper
- Archie, Oscar & Henry at My Three Moggies
- Maxwell, Faraday & Allie at a tonk's tail
- Mario at Mario's Meowsings

CONGRATULATIONS EVERYBODY!  You're all winners, for sure.

What's that, Peepers?  You have to go out this afternoon? Where are you goin', lookin' like that?

Oh, you're headin' over to a motel to take a shower.  Well thank goodness for that.  I was gonna say somethin' before but didn't wanna hurt your feelings or anything but since you've managed to figure it out all own your own...  Well, I'll see you when you return, all nice and clean.  In the meantime, I'm gonna take a nap.

it's inherited!

Breakin' news out of my family room...

Okay, maybe not out of the family room, really.  Only kinda out of the family room but that is where I heard it first.

Breakin' news from the University of Colorado Boulder...

Okay, I don't actually know if it's breakin' news and even if it is, I didn't break the story first but...  well...  I'm tryin' to paint a picture with my words, here.  MOUSES!

Anywho...  I was walkin' past the family room last night after enjoyin' a mid-evenin' snack, when I happened to overhear the news broadcaster on CBC talkin' about the news that could be breakin'. My ears perked up immediately 'cause I just knew I needed to report upon this.  After listenin' to what needed listenin', I trotted into my office and told Ol' Peepers I would require the computer.  I had a blog post to write.

Apparently, some peeps over at the University of Colorado Boulder have written a paper on procrastination.  These peeps:  Daniel Gustavson, Akira Miyake, John Hewitt and Naomi Friedman, have found some sort of connection between the tendency to procrastinate and impulsive behaviour. Not only do they believe that perpetual procrastinators are impulsive but they also believe that that procrastination is genetic.  It's in our genes.  IT'S INHERITED.  MOUSES!

Interestin'...

My Peep #1 is definitely a perpetual procrastinator.  She's a PPP...  a Perpetually Procrastinatin' Peep.  This likely explains why I'm writin' today's blog post, today.  MOUSES!

That's right.  Like I said earlier, I told the peep that I needed the computer last night to write this post but Ol' Peepers was busy doin' somethin' silly and said, "Why don't you do it tomorrow?" MOUSES!

So here I am, writin' my blog post the mornin' it's due, due to Ol' Peepers' condition of bein' a PPP.   Again I say...   MOUSES!

Luckily for me, I did not inherit the peep's PPP.  First of all, I'm a cat.  Cats don't get PPP and, I believe you'll find that, there's no such thing as PPC.  Nope.  Never heard of that one, at all.

If there's a nip mouse that needs to be played with, I'm right on it.  If there's a snack that needs to be snacked upon, I'm there.  If there's a nap that needs takin', I'm nappin' in an instant.  No sirree...  no procrasitnatin' for me.  I'm a cat of action, I am.  Immediate action, for sure.

Now about this impulsiveness.   The peeps from the University of Colorado Boulder believe the two traits are linked.  Peeps who tend to procrastinate, tend to also be impulsive and make rash decisions.

This makes a lot of sense to me.  If you put everythin' off until the last minute, you kinda have to be impulsive if for no other reason than the fact that you've run out of time to really think things through. On the other paw, some might call this, decisiveness.  What exactly is the difference between an impulsive and rash decision and a decisive one?  Probably the end result.  MOUSES!

Peep #1 says she works well under pressure.  I think she thinks that makin' those impulsive and rash decisions works out for her.  Well, she has certainly had enough practise!

My question is, which came first?  Was it the chicken or was it the egg?  Or, in this case, the tendency to procrastinate or the workin' well under pressure bit?  I mean, if you put everythin' off for forever, you're gonna have to make some split-second decisions 'cause let's face it, you'll only have seconds to make 'em.

But what if you're a cat like me and you know you're capable of makin' those split-second decisions in the first place?  Then, it would seem perfectly reasonable to do the other stuff you wanna do, first, and put off makin' those other decisions until the last minute.  In the cat world, we call that time management.  

We must also take into account environmental factors.  For instance, as a cat livin' with a peep who has PPP, said peep's tendency to procrastinate may very well cause me to make impulsive and rash decisions.  It was all Peep #1's fault that I didn't get today's blog post written last night.  It was all because of Peep #1's PPP disorder that I am being forced to feverishly write my post this mornin', barely makin' my deadline.  Peep #1 may have inherited the gene to procrastinate but I, Nerissa the Cat, have somehow managed to inherit the peep!

This whole inherited procrastination subject is very confusin'.  I think the best thing for me to do will be to have a little snack before takin' a nap.  I'll figure out the procrastination stuff, tomorrow. MOUSES!

testin' the waters

You ever wonder why some peeps do the things they do?  Personally, I wonder about peeps all the time.  I really do.  Yet no matter how much I wonder, sometimes I still can't figure 'em out.

For example, what would you do if you came across a big ol' puddle in the middle of the road?  Would you jump right in and splash about like a toddler in new wellingtons or would you walk around it?  I know what I would do.  I would walk around it 'cause you know... I don't like gettin' my paws wet. Scratch that.  First of all, I would have a sip or two of that puddle water as puddle water is oh-so-delicious and then I would walk around it.

But what if you couldn't walk around it?  What if that big ol' puddle was in front of you, blockin' your path.  You couldn't go to the right of it nor could you go to the left and yet, you had to cross that puddle and get to the other side.  If you were a bird or a superpeep, you could fly over it.  If you were a kangaroo, I suppose you could jump over it.  But if you're a mere mortal of a peep or a cat, you're gonna have to walk right on through it.

So do you jump right in, never givin' a second thought as to how deep the puddle might be or if there are treacherous currents that might carry you away?  Or do you gently ease in one paw and then another, testing the waters as you go?  Bein' a sensible cat, I would choose the latter.  Only makes sense, if you ask me.

But I have come to the conclusion that there are peeps out there who are simply not sensible.  Not sensible at all.  There are peeps out there who, instead of goin' easy and testin' the puddle water before them, would rather jump right in without givin' any thought as to into what they're jumpin'. MOUSES!

As you all know, there are a lot of us cats in the blogosphere who do charitable work.  We help raise either awareness or funds or even both for causes near and dear to our hearts.  Day after day after day we plod on, doin' the deeds our hearts tell us we must do.  Comes with the territory, you see. Comes with the territory of havin' a heart in good workin' order.  Those healthy hearts make us keep on helpin' those in need.

Of course, no one cat can do it all by himself.  Try as we might, we always need help.  Even with nine lives, a cat is still mortal.  It doesn't matter how popular one is on the blogosphere or how many pals one has, assistance is always required.  ALWAYS.  The more cats and peeps who help out, the easier the workload becomes for everyone involved, you see.  Only makes sense.  Right?  Right.

Most of the time, when cats and peeps encounter a cause they wish to help, they do the sensible thing and ease in gently, testin' those waters before them.  They take the time to see who is doin' what and how best they might fit in.  Most of the time, cats and peeps enter the cause seamlessly, fittin' right in and lendin' a helpin' paw where needed.  It's a beautiful sight to see. A beautiful thing to watch when happenin'.  Simply beautiful.

Unfortunately, every now and then a peep will forget to exercise the sense and reason that we cats all instinctively know we must show.  Instead of easin' in, these peeps take a runnin' leap and jump right into the middle of that big ol' puddle before them.  They land with a big ol' thud, splashin' puddle water over themselves along with everyone else around them.  And quite often, there is mud and the bottom of that puddle and some of that mud gets splashed and flung about, too.

The landings of these peeps aren't usually the best and they slip and slide on the wet, slippery mud. They stumble about until eventually, they fall.  Yup, they fall flat on their tails or at least where their tails would be if they were cats, if you know what I mean.

Of course, if these peeps had tails, their balance would be considerably better and they'd be less likely to fall but they'd also be less likely to fall had they eased their way in like a sensible cat would have done.  But I digress.  MOUSES!

Back to the jumpin'.  This reckless jumpin' into the middle of puddles is an awful sight and causes nothin' but trouble and a big ol' mess, if you ask me.  I have been witness to such events and still cringe when I see 'em happenin'.  Sometimes, I even shed a tear or two.  Or three.  Or more.  I am especially likely to shed tears if I happen to be standin' too close to the puddle and some of that puddle water and mud gets splashed upon my very own fur.  Believe you me, no one likes a paw full of mud flung at 'em.  No one at all.  Not even me.

It is unreasonable to believe that we always know best.  It is unreasonable to believe that we always know better.  It is unreasonable to believe that we're always the smartest cat in the room.  It is simply unreasonable.

Now I am the very first cat to admit that when somethin' isn't workin', that somethin' should be changed.  To continue doin' the same ol' thing over and over and over again without any good results is a foolish act, for sure.  Some might even call it, crazy.

But on the other paw, when good results are bein' produced, there's no reason to stick your paws in there, trying to re-invent the wheel.  What do you wanna do?  Turn it into a triangle?  MOUSES!

When things are showin' progress, you want to help where help is needed.  You do not want to stick your paws in and mess everybody about.  When you stick your paws in, stirrin' up a storm and then walk away, all you do is cause trouble and hurt.

Sometimes things are done in a particular way because experience has shown the peeps doin' those things that the things they're doin', work.  These peeps didn't just wake up one mornin' and arbitrarily decide that that is how things would be.  Not at all.  Rather, over time they discovered what did and did not work.  Over time they found their groove.  They found their way.

It is unreasonable to believe that one can jump right into the middle of a puddle without knowin' all there is to know about said puddle and yet still know more than the cats and peeps who have been wading through that puddle for, in some cases, years.  It is unreasonable to believe that within a week or two, one will understand so much more than those who have had the experience of time spent in the puddle.

The damage that can be caused by such unreasonable and reckless acts is immense.  The cats and peeps who have been wadin' through that puddle for the longest are sometimes barely hangin' on.  They're doin' what they're doin' because their hearts tell them they must even though they face disappointment and heartbreak, daily.  Havin' someone jump into their midst, splashin' puddle water and slingin' mud at them might be more than their hearts can take.  All that puddle water and mud might just be the final straw.  The tipping point where they decide to leave the puddle, forever.

And what will happen then?  Who will help those in need when those who have been helpin' the longest, leave?  Will the peeps who jumped into the puddle without thinking take over from them?  Not likely.  In every case of such behaviour that I have witnessed, the peeps who stirred up the puddle, left almost as quickly as they came.  Sometimes even faster and NEVER givin' a second thought to the mess they left behind.

puddle water

I enjoy a good puddle as well as the best of 'em.  I LOVE a good puddle! Nothin' beats a good puddle, if you know what I mean.  A good puddle of an excellent vintage just can't be beaten.  But this past weekend, the puddle situation was gettin' a little ridiculous.

Let me start at the beginning...

A week ago today, we had the blizzard.  Yup, the Great Blizzard of 2014, it was.

Okay, maybe it wasn't all that great.  To be honest, it really wasn't great in any kind of way. Certainly not great as in good and not even great as in size but it did dump about a foot of snow on us and knock out the power for several hours.  That, and the fact that it arrived when we were all gettin' anxious for spring, earned it the name, The Great Blizzard of 2014.  At least, it did at my house.

Anywho...  No sooner was the blizzard over but the weatherpeeps were warnin' us of another storm. "Another one!" I cried but to no avail.  The weatherpeeps totally ignored my cries and sent it anyway.

Late Friday afternoon, it began with a little smatterin' of rain, here and there.  By sometime on Saturday, the raindrops were all fully present and accounted for.  It rained Saturday night and then all day Sunday.  It rained and it rained and it rained.  "Enough already!" cried I but again, to no avail. It just kept on rainin'.

Because of the rain, there were puddles EVERYWHERE.  Now like I said before, I love a good puddle.  I do.  I really, really do but the best time to enjoy a fine puddle of water is immediately after you've been enjoyin' a sunpuddle.  You get up from your nap in the sunpuddle and walk over for a sip or two of puddle water.  But the thing is, it's pretty hard to have a nap in a sunpuddle when the sun has been driven off by all the rain and all the sunpuddles are filled with water and really, are nothin' more than puddles.

Ahhh...  the sweet taste of puddle water.  Cool and refreshing with just a hint of outdoorsy flavour.  Like a fine, vintage wine.  EXCELLENT.

One day, I'm gonna find a way to bottle up puddle water and sell it on E-Bay or somethin'.  I've been tryin' to figure out how to do it but so far, I've been stuck at the bottling stage. You see, the best part of puddle water is the fact that it comes in a puddle.  You put it in a bottle and you've got bottled water.  Not the same thing.  Not the same thing at all.  Not nearly as good.  Back to the drawing board for the puddle water factory for me, I should think.  MOUSES!

But I digress....

It was still rainin'.  Yup, it rained all day and it rained all night and then on Monday, it rained some more.  I seriously expected the peeps to start buildin' an arc or somethin', it was rainin' that much.

But the peeps were too worried to be buildin' arcs and whatnot.  The peeps were worried about tables.

Remember that ol' water table that lurks underneath my house?  I blogged all about it in my post, "tables of water," when it was threatenin' to rear its ugly head a little while ago.

So the hole in the basement was lookin' a little damp early on in the weekend but by Sunday night, it was containin' some water.  The water table was makin' an appearance.  By Monday, it was gainin' strength.  Higher and higher it crept until by Monday night, it was only three inches from the basement floor.

I gave it a full inspection as only a cat like myself can do.  I waved a paw over the hole in the floor and allowed the aroma of the water to waft toward my nose.  "MOUSES!" I cried. "This water has no aroma at all.  It's nothin' but water.  No puddle aspect to it, whatsoever.  What good is that?" I asked the peep but she ignored me.  Rude, I know, but I'm givin' her the benefit of the doubt 'cause I think she was worried we might be in for an indoor swimmin' pool... AGAIN.

But by late Monday night, somethin' miraculous happened. The rain, durin' the day, had been goin' back and forth between rain and freezin' rain and ice pellets and whatnot but by Monday night, it was lookin' like snow.  SNOW!

Yesterday mornin' I awoke and the ground was covered in white stuff as far as the eye could see. Not a lot of it.  Not enough for any sort of shovellin' to be required but it was...  EVERYWHERE.

Personally, I was not overly impressed with the arrival of the white stuff.  I figured it was some sort of cruel April Fool's Day joke on the part of Mother Nature.  Don't mess with Mother Nature, they say. DON'T MESS WITH NERISSA THE CAT, is what they should say.  The white stuff was interferin' with the spring programming of my Bird TV, not to mention the complete and utter lack of sunpuddles for nappin'.

But believe it or not, the peeps were happy about the white stuff.  The fact that the weather had turned colder and the rain was now snow meant that the table of water was no longer bein' fed from above and would be able to sink back into the underbelly of the Earth and leave my house alone.  Of course, it also meant that there would be no indoor swimmin' pool for this year but really, I think that's sort of a good thing.

I am now currently awaitin' the return of the sun and some sunpuddles.  Perhaps if I have a nice little nap in a sunpuddle or two, inspiration will strike and I'll be able to figure out how to bottle up those puddles 'cause I just know that when all that snow melts, there will be puddles galore.

After I figure out the bottlin' aspect, I'll be lookin' for investors. Any takers?  My bottled puddle water is gonna be the best thing since sliced bread, for sure.  Maybe even better 'cause you know...  cats don't eat bread and I, Nerissa the Cat, am a cat and that, my friends, is a fact.