the shelf elf

'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring.  Not even a...

"Hum-dee-dum-dee-dum-dee-dum...  Hum-dee-dum-dee-do..." Seville sang to himself as he trotted into the family room.  "Oh, hello there," he said, "and a very Merry Christmas, to you."

"Wait a minute," and Seville stopped in his tracks.  "Wait a nip pickin' mousin' minute.  Just who the mousie mousin' mouses are you?"  Seville eyed the little creature standing before him.  Screwing up his nose, he sniffed the air.  "You smell like...  Like... Like sugar cookies, I think.  Sugar cookies?  MOUSES!"

The creature looked around furtively and made a dash for under the chesterfield, but he wasn't fast enough, and  Seville snagged the corner of his jacket with a claw.  He lifted his paw and dangled the creature in the air, inspecting him up and down.  "I SAID, who the mousie mouses are you?"

"Well I'm not a mouse," the creature answered, a tremor in his voice.

"I can see that.  I'm not stupid, you know.  I'm a cat and cats, by nature, are extremely intelligent beings.  Hmmm...  You are mouse-sized, though."

"But not mouse-tasting," the creature quickly said.

"Yeah, yeah...  No one said anything about eatin' ya, did they?  But now that you bring it up..."

The creature trembled.

"Don't worry," and Seville placed the creature back onto the floor.  "You look too grizzly for good eatin'.  Plus, I don't eat elves."

The creature breathed a sigh of relief.

"Yes, I know you're an elf, and let me tell you somethin', little guy.  There's no better way for a cat to end up on Santa's naughty list, than to eat one of his elves.  You eat one of the big guy's elves, and you end up on that list faster than you can say, cheese on a catnip pizza."  Seville narrowed his eyes.  "But even though I know you're an elf, I still expect an explanation as to why you're here.  Just what the mousie mouses are you doin' in my house, on Christmas Eve?  Huh?  HUH?  Answer me that, why don't ya."

"I uh..."

"SPIT IT OUT!" Seville yelled.  "But don't actually spit, okay?  We're not allowed to spit in the house.  MOUSES!"

The creature - elf - looked confused.

At that moment, Mason entered the room.  She looked at the elf on the floor, and then at her brother, Seville.  "Why is that knickknack on the floor?  Did you knock it down?" she asked.

"He's not a knickknack," Seville explained.  "He's an elf."

Mason rolled her eyes.  "It might look like an elf, but it's really a knickknack.  It's an elf knickknack, I guess.  It's supposed to be up on the mantle.  It's an Elf on the Shelf."

Seville peered at the elf.  "But Mason, he's alive.  Knickknacks aren't supposed to be alive, are they?  Nah, that there elf is an actual elf.  A real live elf, and not a shelf elf, whatever that is.  Look," and Seville poked the elf with a claw.

"Ouch!" cried the elf.

"See?" Seville said to his sister.  "He's alive.  He's definitely an elf."

"Perhaps..." the elf began.  "Perhaps I can explain.  I am an elf, and I was sitting up there, up on that shelf, and..."

"What the mouses were you doin' up on our shelf?" Seville asked.

"Well, I was..."

"ARE YOU A SPY?" Seville cried.  "Were you up there spying on us?  Did Santa send you to spy on us cats?  Of all the..."

"Well, I was..."

"NAME; NUMBER; RANK," Seville demanded.  "Well?  What are they?  Spit it out, man!  NOW!  But remember, don't actually spit, okay?  We're not allowed to spit in the house."

"My name is Alfie," the elf answered, "and yes, I'm a kind of..."  He hesitated.  "I guess..  I guess I kind of am a spy."

Mason and Seville dropped their jaws, in unison.

The elf looked down at the floor.  "I'm an elf on a shelf, okay?  A shelf elf, as you put it.  I couldn't cut it as a toy making elf," and he looked down at his hands.  "I'm all thumbs when it comes to making toys, so Santa thought maybe I could be a shelf elf.  And yes, we shelf elves are spies of sorts, but..."

"But what." and Seville pursed his lips together.

"But apparently I can't cut it as a shelf elf, either," Alfie sighed.  "I was supposed to be spying on a family with three little boys who were caught bullying other children, but I missed my train connection in New Brunswick, and in my hurry to catch the next train, I got on one going in the wrong direction, and..."

"And?" Seville asked through gritted teeth.

"And I ended up here.  At your house.  Up on your shelf."

Seville sat back on his haunches.  "Hmmm..."

"And now I don't know how to get back to the North Pole," the elf added.  "I had hoped that when Santa didn't get any reports from me - reports about those three little boys - that he would send out a search party, but no one has come.  And tonight is Christmas Eve.  If I don't get home tonight, I'll be stuck here until next Christmas."

"WELL I CAN'T ALLOW THAT," stated Seville.  "Goodness knows what kinda dirt a spyin' elf could dig up if he were spyin' on me for an entire year.  It's bad enough you've been here for as long as you have!"  He turned to his sister, "Mason we're gonna have to find a way to get this elf back home."

"Speak for yourself, Sivvers," and Mason looked up from the paw she had been washing.  "Having an elf spy here for an entire year isn't going to bother me.  I don't get into mischief like you," she smirked.

Seville scowled.

"Besides," Mason continued.  "I don't think it's nearly as big a problem as the two of you think," and she went back to washing her paw.

Seville grabbed hold of Mason's shoulders and shook her.  "DID YOU NOT HEAR HIM?" he yelled.  "HE COULD BE STUCK HERE SPYIN' ON US FOR AN ENTIRE YEAR!"

Mason rolled her eyes.  "Seville, get a grip.  Tonight is Christmas Eve."

"I KNOW!!!" and Seville stomped a paw.  "Alfie, here, has to get back to the North Pole by tonight, or..."

"That's right, I do," and Alfie vigorously nodded his head up and down in agreement.  "I have to get home by tonight, or I'm done for."

"Do I have to explain everything to you?  Boys are so...  Oh!  Tonight is Christmas Eve," and Mason looked from Seville to Alfie, and then back to Seville again.  Tonight is Christmas Eve!"

"We already know that part.  That's the whole problem, Sis," said Seville.  "Tonight is Christmas Eve."

"WELL..." Mason said, clearly exasperated.  "Oh for goodness sake.  Do I have to spell it out for you?  BOYS."

"I'm a pretty good speller, Mason.  I don't need your help spelling anythin' for me."  Seville turned to the elf and made a motion with one of his front paws, indicating he thought Mason was a little loopy from imbibing in too much nip.

"For crying out loud.  AND CUT THAT OUT!" she yelled at Seville.  "I'm not the one who has already been into the Christmas nip.  That, Dear Brother, would be you."

Seville sat down, looking somewhat deflated.

"Now listen up, you two.  This is Christmas Eve.  Tonight, after all we cats are tucked into our beds, Santa is going to come here - TO OUR HOUSE - bringing..."

"Oh, he's bringin' us nip mice," Seville confided in Alfie.  "That's what we asked for this year.  Nip mice for everyone, and.."

"I SAID LISTEN UP!" Mason hollered.  "You know you can't listen and talk at the same time, Seville.  Now as I was saying, Santa will be coming here, to our house, tonight.  Here.  HERE.  To our house.  TONIGHT."

Seville looked down at a paw, then up at his sister.  "And your point would be?"

Mason closed her eyes and stomped her front paws.  "My point is, the shelf elf here, can hitch a ride home with Santa."

"Oh," said Seville.

"Oh!" cried Alfie.

"Well why didn't you just say so in the first place?" Seville asked his sister.

Mason rolled her eyes.  "Boys," and she shook her head in dismay.  "Alfie, the Christmas tree is in the living room, and I'm pretty sure there's a plate of nip cookies already out for Santa.  Just sit next to the cookies, and Santa is bound to see you.  You'll be back at the North Pole by dawn."

"And uh..." Seville hesitated.  "When you do get back there...  There's no need to be tellin' Santa about anythin' naughty you might have witnessed me doin' while you were here, okay?"


"Anything naughty like what?" Mason asked, suspiciously.

"Well I don't know, do I?" Seville hissed under his breath.  "I'm not sure for how long that elf has been here spyin' on us.  I don't know exactly what he might have seen, but I'm pretty sure he might have seen somethin'."

"Something like what?" asked Alfie.

"Nothin'," Seville quickly answered.  "Nothin' at all.  Never you mind.  As far as you're concerned, you saw me doin' nothin' but bein' good, okay?"

"Er-hm..." and Mason whispered in her brother's ear.  "I do believe that bullying elves is considered Naughty List material."

"It is?" Seville replied.  "NOW you tell me.  Awww...  MOUSES!"

 ***********************************

but I'm not yet ready!

It's what?  WHAT?  It's already December 20th, you say?

MOUSES!

Christmas is only one, two, three...   Oh my mouses, it's only five days away.  Four, if you're plannin' on bein' ready for Christmas by Christmas Eve, and...

And...

AND...

And I'm not yet ready.  Not even near.

MOUSES!

Where or where did the time go?  Where?  WHERE?

Peepers!  PEEPERS!  I'm in need of some help over here.

PEE-PURRS!!!

Okay Peepers, I need paper, tape, and scissors.  Actually, I don't need the scissors 'cause my claws will work just fine.  But I need some rolls of wrappin' paper, along with some sticky tape, for sure.

And whatever you do, do NOT stick the tape to my fur.

Yeah, been there, done that.  What can I say?  MOUSES!

And Peepers?  When you return with the stuff I require, keep your eyes closed, okay?  The item I am currently wrappin' is top secret, you see.

WHAT THE MOUSES DID YOU DO THAT FOR?

I thought I told you not to stick that ol' sticky tape to my fur.

Yes, yes, I am fully aware that you were instructed to re-enter the room, eyes closed.  And yes, yes, I am fully away those instructions came from me.  BUT STICK THE TAPE ON THE KITTY IS NOT A GAME I AM WILLIN' TO PLAY.

MOUSES!

Humph!  That tape that's stuck to my butt is gonna be a problem, for sure.

Okay Peepers, you may leave now.  I have important, top secret things to do.

DON'T TRIP ON YOUR WAY OUT!

Although if you were to trip, Peepers, it would serve you right, you know.  You have any idea how hard it is to get sticky tape out of fur?  MOUSES!

Now let's see...  Where was I?  Okay, right.  I was wrappin' a prezzie for the peep.

Hmmm...  That doesn't look quite right.  When the peep wraps stuff, somehow said stuff looks better than this.  The stuff she wraps looks a whole lot better than this, for sure.  It's usually not so CRINKLY, for lack of a better word.

But how can that be?  Could the peep be better at wrappin' prezzies than me?

Nah...  That can't be it.  She must have been wrappin' prezzies THE WRONG WAY,  all these years.  MOUSES!

I'll just stick a bow on this here bare spot, and stick the prezzie under the tree.

And speakin' of things that are sticky, that sticky tape is STILL STICKIN' TO ME.  MOUSES!

Now time for my bakin'.

Let's see...  The peep made several kinds of cookies, I do believe, but in not one of 'em did she use any nip.  Silly peep.  What a sorry-tailed...   BEEP!

Hmmm....  Best not to use language like that so close to Christmas.  Santa might hear.  MOUSES!

And now for those cookies...

Hmmm...  Those don't look right.  They don't look like the peep's cookies at all.  They're all kinda...  Uh...  Well...

Well as long as they taste good, that's all that really matters, for sure.  And by tastin' good, I mean, tastin' like nip, and not sugar and spice and things not nearly as nice.  MOUSES!

Now what else am I needin' to do?

What?  What's that Mason?  What's that you're sayin'?

Yeah, yeah...  I know all 'bout the sticky tape on my butt.  Peep #1 put it on me.

Why?  WHY did she stick sticky tape on my butt, you do ask?

That's a good question, for sure.  She SAID it was an accident.  You know, on account of her walkin' about with her eyes closed while carryin' the tape in her paws.

You're right.  You're absolutely right, Mason.  It was foolish of Peep #1 to be walkin' around with closed eyes.  Foolish as foolish can be.

Why?  WHY was she walkin' about with closed eyes, you should ask?

Well...

Ummm...

You see I told her to uh...

Never mind.

MOUSES!

AND NO, you may NOT remove the tape from my butt.

MOUSES, MASON!  I thought I told you not to do that.  Now I'm gonna have a bare patch of fur for Christmas, for sure.

I'm gonna be a bare butt cat.

MOUSES!

You'll do what, Mason?  You'll cover up the bare patch where I'm now missin' my fur?  How on Earth are you gonna do that?

Oohhh...  Okay.  That sounds like a plan.

Wait a minute.

MASON, NO!

Oh for the love of mouses.  My sister just stuck a Christmas sticker on my butt.  She stuck a sticky sticker on my butt!

And now I'm back to square one.

Well I'll deal with the sticker removal later, perhaps after a nap.  After a nap and some nip, I should think.

But there's one last thing I must attend to before gettin' into the nip.  I have one last thing to do.  And it's an extremely important thing I must do, for sure.

I need to announce the winner of the knitted hat and mittens from my giveaway last week!

AND THE WINNER IS...

Drum roll, please.

EDIE CHASE!  That's right, my pal Edie won the knitted hat and mittens set.  Those will keep her toasty warm this winter, for sure.

And speakin' of keepin' toasty warm, I'm expectin' I'll be feelin' the exact opposite, this year.  I'm expectin' to be feelin' a chill.  'Cause it can get might drafty for a cat missin' a patch of fur on his butt.

And if I was missin' fur from the removal of the sticky tape, I'll be missin' even more fur once I get rid of that Christmas sticker.  You know, the sticky sticker my sister, Mason, stuck on my butt.

Mason...  Mason?  Mason, what's that you have in your paw?

It's a candy cane, you say?

And it's for ME?

Awww..  Thank you Mason.  How very thoughtful you are.  Just paw it over and...

NOOOOOOO!!!

Great.  Just great.  Now I have a sticky ol' candy cane stickin' to me.

MOUSES!

Mason to the rescue

Previously on Nerissa's Life... 

"Ooh-boy," Seville whistled.  "That there jar wasn't filled with glitter.  I'm thinkin' it must have been some kinda magical magic dust, for sure.  MOUSES!"

"What to do, what to do...  WHAT TO DO, WHAT TO DO...  I know!" and Seville snapped his claws.  "I know exactly what to do.  I need to start yellin', for sure.  MOUSES!"

"HELP!!!"

On the other paw, it's possible no one can even hear me.  If I've been miniaturized, I bet my voice has been miniaturized, too," and Seville let out a disappointed sigh.

"Hey!" the flattened elf under Seville's paws sputtered.  "I can hear you just fine.  Keep it down, would you?"

Seville stepped off the elf, allowing him to sit up.  The elf immediately started to furiously brush something off his clothing.

"That cat hair or paw prints?" asked Seville.  "FYI: if it's cat hair, it's not comin' off.  Peep #1 had to take her jacket to the dry cleaners on account of my hair once, and the jacket came back lookin' exactly like it had looked before it went in."

The elf scowled and brushed even more furiously.

"Oh my mouses!" and Seville dashed to the mail car's window.  Outside the train was a large, creamy-fawn coloured blob.  "OH MY MOUSES!  That there blob is my sister, Mason, for sure," he cried.  "Mason!  MASON!  MAY-SAHN!!!  Yoo-hoo!  Over here!  Down here!  In here!  HERE!" he yelled.

"That's weird," Mason muttered, looking around the living room.  "Now where did Seville get to this time?  Maybe he went upstairs for a nap."  Turning to go look for her brother upstairs, Mason stopped in her tracks.  "Do we have mice?" she asked herself.  "I'm sure I heard something squeaking."

"I'M NOT A MOUSE!" Seville hollered.  "IT'S ME.  SIVVERS!  I'm stuck in this ol' toy train."

Mason peered about the room, trying to identify from where the squeaking sounds were coming.  Finally, she looked down at the train.  Her jaw dropped in disbelief when she saw the train whizz past with Seville's face plastered to the inside of its window.

"How the mouses?"  She held up a paw.  "Never mind.  There are some things I really do not want to know."

"MAY-SAHN..." Seville cried as the train headed away from his sister.  "I'm stuck in here, and I can't get out!"

Mason shook her head to clear it.  Coming to the conclusion that her brother must be trapped, she waited until the train circled the Christmas tree and approached her once more.  "Time to be brave, Mason," she told herself, before stepping in front of the oncoming toy train.

The iron tires squealed as they ground to a halt against the tracks, and there was a screeching sound of twisting metal.  The train teetered to the right, and then to the left, before coming to a full stop.  Seville, the postmaster, and the two elves were all thrown to the front of the train car.  Picking himself up, Seville ran back to the window.

Mason stepped off the train tracks and brushed herself off.  Finding the car her brother was in, she pressed her nose against the window, and peered inside.  "Is that really you in there, Seville?" she asked.

"Yes!  YES!  It's me.  Boy-oh-boy am I ever glad to see you, Mason.  I'm stuck in here, and I can't get out."

"But how did you get inside that teeny-tiny train in the first place?" Seville's sister asked him.

"Well...  Well I was gonna take a nap in that there box," and Seville pointed to the gift box still under the tree, "and then I found a jar of magical magic dust that I thought was glitter, which, of course, I opened up to see if it was really some kinda sparkly nip.  And then I sneezed, and then...  Well...  Well then I ended up in here."

Mason trotted over to the gift box.  Finding the jar of magic dust, she held it up to the light to examine it.  "Interesting..." she murmured.  "Glitter capable of initiating a miniaturization response."  She shook her head in disgust.  "Peep #1 should know better than to leave something like this lying around, especially when..." and she glanced over to her brother trapped in the toy train.  "Especially when Seville is around."

"Can you fix this?" Seville cried.

Going back to the train, Mason put her nose up against the mail car's window once more.  "Ask those elves in there if they know anything about magic dust," she instructed Seville.

Seville turned to ask the elves but saw them frantically jumping around, trying to resort the mail that had flown about the mail car when the train had lurched to a stop.  "Ummm...  They look kinda upset," he told Mason.  "I'm not asking 'em anythin'.  At least not right now.  You have any other ideas?" he asked, hopefully.

Mason thought for a moment and then went back to the gift box.  She pawed about amongst the tissue paper, looking for anything else that might be hidden underneath.  Finding nothing, she sat down on her haunches and sighed.


"Maybe you could call the North Pole and ask Santa!" Seville hollered out to her.  "I think he might use the same kinda magical magic dust to make himself small enough to get down chimneys and things on Christmas Eve.  He must have a way of makin' himself big again, 'cause he's gotta be full-sized when the kiddies sit on his lap at malls and things.  Don't you think?"

"Mail arrival!" one of the elves cried out, and a multitude of letters all addressed to Santa at the North Pole, appeared from seemingly nowhere, before drifting down to the floor.  The elves continued to work, sorting the mail.

"Oh for the love of mouses," Seville sighed.  "Where is all this mail comin' from?  And why-oh-why is it comin' here, to this train?  I know I thought the train was headin' for the North Pole before, but it appears to takin' a very circuitous route around our Christmas tree, for sure.

"This train goes to the North Pole, all right," the postmaster chimed in.  "As soon as the last letter to Santa arrives on December 24th, the train will make its final trip around your Christmas tree, before heading due north, arriving just in time for the final packing of Santa's sleigh."

"December 24th!" Seville cried.  "But that's a whole week away.  I can't be stuck in this here train for an entire week.  I have things to do.  You know, treats to eat.  Nip to sniff.  Stuff like that."

"Patience there, little feller.  Christmas Eve morning will arrive before you know it and..."

But Seville had gone back to the train car's window, frantically pawing at it to get his sister's attention.

"Mason!  MASON!  I have to tell you what the postmaster in here just said," and he relayed everything to his sister.

Mason thought for a moment.  "Have no fear, brother dear, for I, Mason the Cat, know just what to do."

"Hmmm...  That sounds suspiciously like somethin' I would normally say," Seville told his sister.

"And you could be saying it right now, too, if you hadn't foolishly allowed yourself to be miniaturized, and then trapped inside a toy train," Mason snapped.  "Hold on there Sivvers, give me a moment.  We'll get this show on the road..."  She stopped mid-sentence and burst out laughing.  "We'll get this story back on TRACK in just a moment."

"Very funny," Seville scowled.  "I sure do hope you know what you're doin'."

"Just don't go anywhere," Mason told Seville, before heading off to gather supplies.

"Where am I gonna to go?  In case you hadn't noticed, I'm STUCK in this here train goin' nowhere."

Moments later, Mason returned, bringing with her what she needed to rescue her brother.  She dragged over the calendar that normally hung on the wall in the kitchen, and very carefully tore the page for December out, before using Seville's magic marker to X out every day of the month up to, and including, December 23rd.  She then used the same marker to make out a gift tag, addressing it to Santa at the North Pole, and stuck it to the calendar page for December, with a little tape.  After that was done, Mason got the toy train back on its tracks, and started it moving again.  She watched with satisfaction as it started to chug its way around the tree once more.  Finally, Mason opened the jar of magical magic dust, and sprinkled a little over the page from the calendar, being very careful not to get any on herself.

There was a popping sound, and then a crackle, and before Mason knew it, flashing lights began to fill the living room.  She watched as the page from the calendar vanished before her.

"Mail arrival!" an elf cried, catching the miniaturized calendar page as it fell to the floor.  "It's addressed to Santa," the elf stated.

Seville dashed over to the elf holding the page from the calendar.  "Ho-ho!" he cried.  "Lookie there, my little green pal.  That there is a calendar.  And just LOOK at what it says.  Look at that.  Look!" and he pawed at where all the dates leading up to Christmas Eve had been X'd off.  "That there calendar says today is the 24th of December."

"Well I'll be," said the postmaster, approaching Seville and the elf.  "My, time does fly when you're having fun.  It's time for us to be heading up North."

"Mason, you are brilliant," Seville whispered under his breath.  "But you'll never hear me say that to your face."

All of a sudden, Seville could feel the train picking up speed.  Faster, and faster, and faster it went, until it eventually lifted right off the train tracks.  Soaring through the air now, Seville ran to the window and looked down.  He could see his sister on the floor of the living room, looking smaller and smaller as the train flew higher.

It felt like only mere minutes had passed when Seville felt the train begin to descend.  Very gently, it glided onto train tracks covered in snow, and headed toward a massive wooden building Seville recognized as Santa's Workshop up at the North Pole.

"HO! HO! HO!" Santa cried, coming to greet the train as it pulled to a stop.  "What happened?" he asked the postmaster.  "You're a full week early."

"Ummm... 'Bout that," Seville interrupted.  "Perhaps I can explain."

Once Santa stopped laughing, he picked Seville up in his arms.  "My my, you do get yourself into mischief there, little one.  You're just like my elves."

Seville opened his mouth to protest about the comparison, but thought better of it.

"Santa, do you know how to make me my proper size again, so that I can go back home?" Seville asked.

"But you're already your proper size, Seville.  The miniaturization process was reversed on your journey up North.  And as for getting you home, I'll have Rudolf take you in the sleigh.  It was needing a test drive, anyway."

"But what about the rest of the mail?" the postmaster cried.  "Children are still writing letters to Santa - to YOU - but we've already left the Seville the Cat station."

Seville's eyes grew wide.  "There's a Seville the Cat mail station?  MOUSES!"

"Rudolf will take you and the train back to Seville's house, too," Santa told the postmaster, explaining that the train and crew would have to be miniaturized for the journey south, but Seville would remain his proper size.

"ALL ABOARD!" the postmaster cried, and before Seville knew it, he was sitting in Santa's sleigh with the toy train next to him, as Rudolf went through his pre-flight checklist.

"Thank you so much!" Seville cried, as he waved down to Santa on the ground below .  "I'll make sure your favourite cookies are waiting for you at my house this Christmas Eve.  The ones with the nip icing!" he added, knowing Santa liked them best.

Minutes later, Rudolf came to a stop on Seville's front lawn.  Mason dashed out of the house, and gave her brother a big hug.  "You were gone a whole half hour!" she told him.  "I was getting worried," and hugged him once more.

With Rudolf's help, the two cats managed to get the toy train back on its tracks, and watched as it chugged its way around the Christmas tree once more.  The three then headed back outdoors.

Seville turned to Rudolf to thank him for everything.  Rudolf blushed, his nose turning red.  "I'll see you two on Christmas Eve," Rudolf said, "but for now, I really must get back to the North Pole.  There's only a week left 'til Christmas, you know."

Seville and Mason both gave Rudolf a hug and together, they watched as the reindeer rose higher and higher in the air, eventually disappearing from sight.  Going back into the house, Seville looked about the living room for the jar of magical magic dust.  "Hmmm..." he murmured.  "Mason, you see that jar of magic dust lying around anywhere?"


"That, brother dear, has been put away until further notice.  And by further notice, I mean never to be seen again."

"But..."

"But nothing, Seville.  That was a close call you had.  Magic dust is not something a cat like you should be messing around with."

"Awww.... MOUSES!" Seville complained, but not too loudly, for deep down, he knew the magic dust being out of his reach, was likely for the best.

I said, HOLD STILL!

Hold still, I said.

HOLD STILL!

HOLD STILL YOU BIG OL' STUPID BALL OF HOT AIR.

Oh for the love of mouses.

HOLD STILL!

I'm tellin' ya, if you ever hire a model from Craig's List, make sure said model has the necessary qualifications before hirin' them.

Necessary qualifications as in...  You know...  HOLDIN' STILL.

MOUSES!

Lookie here, you big ball of hothin' but air, I'm gonna make you hold still if it's the last thing I do.  That's right.  Even if it's the very last thing I do, I'm gonna make you hold still, for sure, and...

Oh-oh...

Well that didn't work out as planned.

Maybe I shoulda let the peep clip my claws last night, after all.

MOUSES!

Hmmm...

Well I'll just have to make do with the few shots I managed to get before...

Well...

You know...

The big bang.

MOUSES!

Okeydoke, so here we go.

I'M HAVIN' ANOTHER GIVEAWAY!


Yes Sirree, I most certainly am.  I'm havin' another giveaway right here on my blog, for sure.

This time, I'm givin' away a lovely paw knitted (ladies) beret-styled hat, with matchin' mittens.

Peep #1 made 'em herself.

With her very own paws!

I mean, hands.

No, I think I mean paws.

So anyway...

So anyway, this lovely paw-knitted set incorporates an open-rib stitch (just like the peep's cowl from last week) and was made usin' a cardinal red Patons Canadiana yarn, which is 100% cuddly-soft acrylic, give or take a loose strand or two of marmalade fur that may or may not have come in contact with the knittin' while I was helpin' the peep with her...  You know...  Knittin'.

Or while I was tryin' to get that stupid ol' model I hired to hold still.

What can I say?  Stuff happens.  MOUSES!

Oh!  OH!  OH!

I almost forgot.  I almost forgot to announce the winner of last week's giveaway.  CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?

So...

So the winner of Peep #1's Knitted Open-Rib Cowl from last week was none other than my pal...

Drum roll, please.

BRIAN!  That's right, the winner of the knitted cowl was Brian from Brian's Home Blog.  CONGRATULATIONS BRIAN!  This cowl should keep you toasty warm this winter, for sure.

And now...

Now for the details as to how to enter my giveaway.

This giveaway is open worldwide, and there is no cost to enter.  All one needs to do is leave a comment on this here blog post.  And if for some reason Blogger won't let you comment, please let me know over on my Facebook fan page, or on Twitter, and I'll leave a comment for you.

The contest period is approximately six days.  At 10 pm Atlantic time, on Tuesday December 19th, 2017, Peep #1 will draw ONE name from all the comments, and that peep or anipal will be the lucky winner of a lovely paw-knitted beret-styled hat with matchin' mittens, knitted usin' cardinal red Patons Canadiana yarn.

BUT THAT'S NOT ALL!

Nope, no sirree.  That is not all, at all, because...

BECAUSE...

Okay, so we have some minor technical difficulties regardin' part number two.

And when I say number two, it has NOTHIN' to do with anythin' one might find in a litter box.  Although truth be told, those aforementioned technical difficulties have been givin' the peep quite the potty mouth the last week or so, for sure.

MOUSES!

Remember how last week, I wanted to give EVERYONE a gift?  How I wanted to give EVERYONE a little somethin', even if they weren't the winner of the actual giveaway?  And remember how Peep #1 gave me her pattern for her Open-Rib Cowl, sayin' I could give it away to all my readers?

Well she did say that, and she did do it, too.  But the link for the pdf file keeps expirin' and it's drivin' Peep #1 'round the bend.

Yeah, even more so than usual.

MOUSES!

So...

So this is what the peep and I have decided to do.

Peep #1 is still gonna give all my readers the patterns for both her knitted Open-Rib Beret-Styled Hat and Open-Rib Mittens, which is kinda neat, 'cause they match the cowl pattern from last week, PURRfectly.  But she's still strugglin' with those moused-up pdf files, so the patterns aren't available just yet.

But they will be, soon!

And when she sorts everythin' out, instead of postin' the links to the files here in this blog post, she's gonna create a "page" up at the top of my blog called Knittin' with Kittens, or somethin' like that.  That way, if the links keep expirin', at least they'll all be together in one place for her to put in new ones.

And in the meantime, Peep #1 told me to let everyone know that the hat and mittens EACH take one 100g ball of Canadiana yarn, so if you're thinkin' of makin' the cowl, hat, and mittens, and want 'em all to match, you'll need four balls in total.

One last thing.

Be sure to check back here, Wednesday December 20th, 2017, 'cause that's when I'll be announcin' the winner of the paw-knitted hat and mittens, right here on my blog.  And don't forget to check in this Sunday, for the conclusion of my Christmas adventure.  Paws crossed I can find my way out of that miniature train I managed to get myself trapped in.  MOUSES!

Santa's mail train

"Ho-Ho!  Look at this, Mason.  Peep #1 set up a Christmas village for us, right here in the livin' room.  This is gonna be super fun, for sure."

Mason narrowed her eyes.  "I doubt she put it up for us, Seville.  The peeps usually discourage us from playing with the Christmas decorations."

"Yeah, yeah...  But I never pay any attention to 'em when they do that," Seville explained to his sister.  "They say No and I say, What-was-that-you-said-again? or somethin' like that.  Personally, I don't even bother pretending to listen when they scold us, anymore.  The peep and I have come to an understandin'."

"Oh really?" Mason asked, somewhat doubtfully.

"Oh yeah," Seville nodded.  "I no longer pretend to listen, and the peep no longer expects me to pretend.  Or to listen.  Or any variation, thereof.  And do you know what?  Our understandin' appears to be workin', for sure."

Mason rolled her eyes.

"Oohhh...  Mason.  IT'S A TRAIN!  The village the peep put up for us has its very own train."  Seville watched as the train approached him, chugging along the tracks.  Chugga-chugga-chugga-chugga...  Chugga-chugga-chugga-chugga...  "I wonder where the train goes."

"In a circle, would be my guess," Mason sighed.  "In a circle, right around the Christmas tree."

"Nah, that's way too obvious," Seville scoffed.  "It can't be as simple as that."  He sat on his haunches and thought for a moment.  "I bet this particular train travels all the way up to the North Pole.  I bet this particular train makes daily trips to Santa's Workshop.  I bet the conductor of this particular train knows the Big Guy in Red, himself!  You think I could hitch a ride on the train and go visit Santa Claus, Mason?  I haven't seen him all year, you know."

"I think you're a little big for that particular train, Sivvers," said Mason, shaking her head.  "That is, even if it did go all the way to the North Pole, and not just around and around AND AROUND the Christmas tree, right here in our living room."

"But it DOES go to the North Pole," Seville insisted.  "I saw 'em sortin' mail in the mail car, and all the mail that was bein' sorted was addressed to Santa Claus!" and he stomped a paw for emphasis.

"You saw them what?" Mason's jaw dropped.  "Pshaw.  You, my brother, have been into the nip again.  I can tell."

"I am not nipped.  Well, no more nipped than usual, that is.  And I DID TOO see 'em sortin' mail in the mail car.  Look," and he grabbed his sister by the tail.  Watch as the train passes again.  Look in the third car from the back.  You'll see a postmaster and two elves, going through bags and bags of mail, and..."

"Well look at that," Mason whistled.  "I wonder how Peep #1 got those miniature animated toys inside that train.  The detail is really quite amazing."

"Detail, shmetail.  Those aren't toys.  Those are real, live elves and a postman in there.  They're miniature on account of needin' to fit inside the train, I suspect.  Probably usin' the same magic Santa uses when he has to fit himself down chimneys and stuff on Christmas Eve."

Wistfully, Seville watched the train pass him once more.  "THIS HERE TRAIN travels to the North Pole, for sure, Mason.  I can feel it in my whiskers," and he smiled, knowingly.

"Whatever you say," and Mason turned on her tail.  "Let me know if you figure out how to fit your big cat self into that teeny tiny train, okay?  I'll be in the kitchen, looking for treats."

"Will do!" Seville called, waving his sister off.  "Hmmm...  Now exactly how does one miniaturize oneself to fit inside a miniature train headin' for the North Pole?  HMMM..."

Mason returned a little while later with a bag of treats in her paw.  "Want some?" she asked her brother.

"I'm too busy thinkin' to be eatin' treats," Seville answered.  "Besides, I've come to the conclusion that in order to fit inside this here train, I might need to reduce my daily treat consumption."


Mason stared at her brother, not quite sure how to respond.

"I'VE GOT IT!" Seville yelled.  "I know how to get myself into that train."

"This should be good," his sister chuckled.

"Oh ye of little faith," and Seville dashed out of the living room.  Moments later, he returned with a gift tag and magic marker.  Using the marker, he wrote Santa's address, which thankfully, he knew by heart, on the gift tag.  He then took some ribbon from a gift under the tree, and used it to tie the tag around his neck.  "Wait and see, Mason.  Just WAIT AND SEE."

Seville and Mason sat quietly, watching the train as it approached.

Seville and Mason sat quietly, watching the train as it passed, leaving them both behind.

Mason yawned.  "Let me know when you figure this out, huh?  I'm going back to the kitchen to score another bag of treats," and with that, she turned on her tail and left the room once more.

"Awww...  MOUSES!"  Seville whimpered before sitting down, looking rather dejected.  "I thought that was gonna work, for sure."  He distractedly pawed at a large decorative box under the tree.  "This must be one of the boxes Peep #1 uses to store the tree decorations and stuff when it's not Christmas time," he murmured.  He lifted the lid.  "Yup, there's a whole bunch of crumpled up tissue paper in here.  Probably the paper she wraps the glass ornaments in."

Seville watched as the train chugged its way around the tree once more.  "Guess I'm not gettin' to visit Santa today," he sighed.  "Maybe I'll go check out the treat situation in the kitchen," and he stood to leave.  "On the other paw, maybe I'll have a nice little nap in this here storage box.  Silly to let a good box like this go to waste.  It's even filled with tissue paper.  I love tissue paper.  Comfy for lyin' on AND fun for shreddin', too," and he hopped into the box.

"OUCH!"  With a paw, Seville dug around under the tissue.  Finding the solid object he had landed upon, he pulled it out for examination.  "What the mouses is this?" he asked himself, holding up a glass jar.  "It's not an ornament.  At least I don't think it is.  But there's something sparkly inside.  Looks kinda like a jar full of glitter."

Unscrewing the lid, Seville held his nose to the jar's opening to get a whiff of what was inside, on the off chance it might be some new form of glittery catnip.

"Ah...  AH...  AH...  ACHOO!" the cat sneezed, sending glitter in every direction.

As the glitter fell to the floor, it danced in the air.  Then it began to swirl around and around, and before Seville knew it, the glitter had encircled him within a cloud of sparkling, flashing lights.

"BANG!"

Dazed, and more than a little tingly, Seville got to his paws.  Looking up, he met the kind face of a stranger who looked vaguely familiar.  He shook his head to clear it, and looked around.  No longer in the storage box under the Christmas tree, the cat found himself in a train car, with a postman and two elves, who were all very busy sorting mail.

"Mail arrival!" cried one of the elves, looking directly at Seville.  The elf grabbed hold of the gift tag tied around Seville's neck.  "Addressed to Santa, he is," said the elf.  He groaned as he tried to pick Seville up.  "The cat must weigh close to twenty pounds!"

"I. DO. NOT." Seville stated, emphatically.

The elf attempted to lift Seville again.  Getting him off the ground, this time, he staggered backwards.  He tried to regain his balance but it was too late, and before anyone knew it, the elf was on the train car floor, with Seville standing on top of him.

Seville scowled at the elf.  "Stupid elf," he muttered.  "I'm only sixteen pounds.  Maybe - just maybe - sixteen and a half.  But twenty?  MOUSES!"

"Get off me you big marmalade oaf!" the elf wheezed, clearly in distress.

But at that moment, Seville was far too busy looking about the train car to pay any attention to the elf beneath him, gasping for air.  "Ooh-boy," Seville whistled.  "That there jar wasn't filled with glitter.  I'm thinkin' it must have been some kinda magical magic dust, for sure.  MOUSES!"

********************************************

Be sure to return to Nerissa's Life, the blog, on Sunday December 17th,

for the conclusion of my excitin' Christmas adventure.

PURRS.

already?

What?  WHAT?  What the mousie mousin' mouses...

WHAT?

MOUSES!

Peepers, what do you MEAN it's already December?  What do you MEAN you forgot to flip the calendar from November?  What do you MEAN it's not your fault?

Oh for the love of mouses.  Of COURSE it's your fault.

MOUSES!

I'm tellin' ya, if I don't remind Peep #1 to do stuff, she never does any of it, at all.  And now, here it is December 3rd, and I'm already like ten weeks behind.  Ten weeks behind for Christmas.

MOUSES!

Okay, so maybe it's closer to three days, than ten weeks, but still...

MOUSES!

What?  What's that, Peepers?  What's that you're babblin' on about now?

If I didn't know it was already December, what month did I think it was, you ask?  Well November, of course.  Just like the calendar was sayin'.

Peepers, I knew it was Sunday.  I knew it was a postin' day.  What I didn't know was that it was the first postin' day of December.

MOUSES!

Here it is December 3rd, and I still have to write my letter to Santa.  I still have to help you decorate the tree.  I still have to finish my post for my December giveaway.  I still have to...

Oh my mouses!  PEEPERS!  Do you have those pictures ready for me to use?

YOU DON'T?

MOUSES!

Peepers, do you have those pdf files ready for me to use?

YOU DON'T?

MOUSES!

For the love of mouses.  If a cat wants stuff done in this house, a cat has to do all said stuff ALL by himself.

MOUSES!

So Peepers, what exactly do you have ready for me?

Uh-huh, uh-huh...  Okay...  At least that's a start, I suppose.  Not a very good start, but a start, nonetheless.  I guess it's the best start I can expect, comin' from a peep like you.

Hmmm...

Peepers, do you think you could have those pdf files ready for me to use on Wednesday?

Which Wednesday, you ask?  THIS Wednesday, of course.  Why do you have to make things so difficult?  WHY?

And Peepers, do you think you could haul out the Christmas tree and decorations, tonight, so that we could...

What?  WHAT?  What's that you're babblin' on about now?

Nothin'.  Nothin' at all.  The Christmas tree decoratin' has absolutely nothin' to do with my writin' my blog post for Wednesday.  But a kitty likes to bat around a bauble or two when searchin' for inspiration, you see, and...

On the other paw, never mind about that.  Some things are best kept to oneself, I believe.

Okay, so here's the plan, Peep.  Tonight, I'm gonna write my letter to Santa and stuff.  That could take a while, I suppose.  Then tomorrow, I would be much obliged if you would mail my letter, please.

And right after you take my letter to the post office, I need you takin' those pictures.  You know, the ones I was talkin' about, earlier.  And I need you gettin' those files ready for me to use, too.

Then on Wednesday, I'm GONNA be postin' about part one of my Christmas giveaway.
O-KAY?  That's on Wednesday, Peepers.  Wednesday of this week.  That's only a few days away.  The day after the day after tomorrow, it is.  W E D N E S D A Y.  You got that, ol' peepage of mine?

Peepage...

Heheheheh...

Okay, even I have to admit that sounds a little off.  Kinda sounds like somethin' that might be septic and seepin', and possibly creepin', and...

Okay, that's not very Christmassy at all.

MOUSES!

Hmmm...

Okay, so bottom line is this, Peepers.  I need those files ready by Wednesday.  Wednesday of this week.  I need the photos ready, too.  And I need you to...

HMMM...

You know, I wonder...

I wonder if I asked Santa really nicely...  If I asked him really, REALLY nicely, if he would bring me a peep upgrade.  Or an upgraded peep.  Whichever is easiest to find.  A peep who knows how to take pictures, and do up pdf files, and more to the point, a peep who gets things done on time.  And I wonder if he'd bring me my little prezzie, early.  Early as in by Wednesday of this week, and...

Oh my mouses!  If I'm gonna be askin' Santa for that, I'm gonna have to get my letter written to him, lickety-split.  Lickety-split as in like yesterday, for sure.  Or at least by tonight. 

MOUSES!