we'll gather at dawn

You're gonna have to do somethin' about that, Peepers.

I SAID, you're gonna have to do somethin' about that!

PEEPERS!  Like I said, you're gonna have to do SOMETHIN' about that.

That.

THAT!

Okay, THOSE.  You're gonna have to do somethin' about those.

MOUSES!

Peepers, are you even listenin' to me?

Gosh darn it, all this time I've been talkin' to her, she was firmly sound asleep.

Should have known by the snorin'.

MOUSES!

So anyway...

So anyway, she might not have been asleep.

SHE MIGHT HAVE BEEN IGNORIN' ME.

So rude.

MOUSES!

So anyway...

So anyway, here's the thing: Peepers has a stash.  That's right, she has her very own stash.

Or is it a horde...

Huh, probably both.

MOUSES!

But it's like this: Peepers has a stash-slash-horde or horde-slash-stash of yarn.  All sorts of different yarns in all sorts of different colours.  It's embarrassing, really.  Embarrassing for her.

Not to mention me.

IMAGINE havin' more balls of yarn than a peep could ever even dream of knittin' up.

IMAGINE!

I mean, it's not like it's a stash of the nip..

A cat CAN ONLY DREAM of havin' so much nip in his stash that he couldn't possibly use it all up before next harvest season.

MOUSES!

But back to this hordelike stash of yarn the peep has.

It's big.  It's stupidly big.  It's BIGLY big, to be sure.  And it's takin' up space that could be put to much better use by bein' used as space for storin' catnip.  It is TOTALLY RIDICULOUS, for sure.

Which is why...

Which is why...

Which is why I have offered to help her out by takin' some of her stashlike horde, unravellin' it all, and thereby puttin' it to better use than just sittin' around, doin' nothin' but nothin', occupyin' space.

And once it's unravelled...

Once it's unravelled...

Well, once a ball of yarn is unravelled, it's time for kitties to do some major slobberin', before knottin' it up.  And THEN, once unravelled, slobbered upon, and knotted in knots, the best thing to do with said yarn is throw it right out!

MAKIN' SPACE FOR MY ANNUAL HARVEST OF NIP.

*purrs*

But Peepers, bein' a peep, is somewhat resistant to this idea.

MOUSES!

But fear not, my dear friends.  Fear not, not at all!  The plan is for Saffy and I to gather at dawn, dive into that stash, and have....

Well, have a ball!

Pun intended.

We'll gather at dawn and have a ball unravellin' those balls of stupid ol' yarn.

Best. Plan, EVER, for sure.

And when we're all done...

When we're all done...

Well, when we're all done, the empty totes that once held the stupid ol' yarn will be MINE.

Every. Single. One.

MOUSES!

about time

Well it's about time, Peepers.  It's about time.  You've been promising to make me...

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

YES I KNOW you started makin' me my blankie ages ago.  But then you set it aside.  You stopped knittin'.  And then...

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

YES I KNOW that for a while it was really too hot for for me to need a blankie, at all.  But there were nights that were cooler, too, you know.  I could have used a blankie on those nights, for sure.  PLUS, I can always sleep ON the blankie, even in warm weather, and...

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

YES I KNOW the first stitch you experimented with turned out to be a pain in the tail to knit, but...

WHAT?

Peepers, are you sayin' your first attempt to knit me a blankie was an experiment?

Peepers, ARE YOU SAYIN' you were EXPERIMENTIN'?

Experimentin' on ME?

Of all the moused up, stupid things for a peep to do.

MOUSES!

Peepers, if you wanna be experimentin' with knittin', you should stick to experimentin' on things you happen to be knittin' for yourself.

Or Saffy.

He'll never know.

But not for me.

MOUSES!

YOU HAVE A HECK OF A LOT OF NERVE thinkin' you can possibly get away with experimentin' on knittin' somethin' that you're supposed to be knittin' for me.

MOUSES!

Thank goodness you scrapped that experiment and decided to use a stitch you're more familiar with.  One you know will turn out all cushiony soft.  Thank goodness you decided to use that ol' Bamboo stitch just like the blankie you made for yourself.  Thank goodness you...

Wait a minute.

Peepers, now that I'm lookin' at your knittin' progress a little more closely, I must ask: what's with all the different colours?  How come you're usin' four different colours of yarn to knit up the blankie for me?  

And she's not yet finished.  There might end up bein' more!

What was that, Peepers?  I DIDN'T HEAR YOU.  You didn't answer my question.  Why are you usin' so many different colours when knittin' MY blankie.  YOUR blankie had just the one.

Colour, I mean.

And why the mouses are those the colours you chose?  I mean, the paprika and dusty peach are okay, BUT THE ROSE?  Are you unaware I am a cat who is orange?  Orange with rose?

Really?

MOUSES!

WHAT?

YOU'RE SAYIN' YOU'RE MAKIN' MY BLANKIE USIN' UP OLD SCRAPS?  Scraps of yarn you no longer need?  Scraps of yarn not even worth keepin' in your stash?

You're usin' LEFTOVERS to make a blankie for me?

MOUSES!

Of all the nerve.

I've never been so insulted in all my nine lives.

MOUSES!

and so it begins

AGAIN.

MOUSES!

That's right, my dear friends, that's what I said: and so it begins, again.

MOUSES!

I know, I know...  I know what you're thinkin'.  You're thinkin'...

Actually, to tell you the truth, I have no idea what you're thinkin'.  Usually, I do.  USUALLY, I know EXACTLY what my pals are thinkin', but today...

But today...

But today, I'm havin' trouble concentratin' on account of my only gettin' in eighteen or so hours of sleep, yesterday.

Usually, I try to get in at least twenty.

MOUSES!

And yes, the reason I didn't get my full twenty hours of sleep in, yesterday, is because it has begun.

AGAIN.

MOUSES!

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

YOU DID TOO keep me awake yesterday evenin'.  And the evenin' before that, too.  All that clickety-clack, clackety-click, clickety, clackety, clickin'.

It was ear-piercin', to be sure.

MOUSES!

What?

For mousin' out loud, Peepers.  Do I have to explain EVERYTHIN' to you?

IT WAS YOUR KNITTIN'!

Some peeps know nothin' about nothin', I swear.

MOUSES!

So as I was sayin'...

As I was sayin', Peepers is back to spendin' her evenings doin' knittin'.  And the clickin' and clackin' of those knittin' needles IS DRIVING ME MAD!

Don't say it, Peepers.  Don't you dare say it.  Don't you dare say anythin' eludin' to my already bein'..  You know...  Mad.

Although ANGRY I might be, on account of my napless evenings these past nights, on account of the noise from those nasty ol' needles.

But angry is definitely not the same thing as mad.

I don't think.

MOUSES!

But anyway...

But anyway, like I was sayin', Peepers is back to her knittin'.  I THOUGHT we were all done with that when she finished the sweater she made for her pal's birthday, earlier this month, but OH NO....

Oh no, NOW she's makin' a sweater for herself.  So she's back to doin' more noisy-as-mouses knittin'.

MOUSES!

It would be different if she were makin' a sweater for me, of course, 'cause then...

WHAT AM I SAYIN'???

I'm not wearin' no moused-up, stupid ol' sweater.

My marmalade furs are perfect, just as they are.

MOUSES!

So I suppose...

So I suppose, when I actually think about it, Peepers knittin' a sweater for herself IS better than her makin' one for me.  Perhaps I can manage to put up with a little clickin' and clackin', as tryin' as that might be.

Although a pair of industrial-strength earplugs will most certainly be in order.

MOUSES!

you better watch out

Well it's about time, Peepers.  Glad that's over, for sure.  It's high time you were makin' one for me.

MOUSES!

On the other paw...

On the other paw, you can keep any ideas of makin' cat-sized sweaters to yourself.

'Cause believe you me, I'M NOT WEARIN' NO STUPID KNITTED SWEATER.

Excuse the poor grammar, of course.

MOUSES!

No.  No, I do NOT want you to make me a sweater, Peepers.  No sweaters for me.  BUT I AM glad you've finished makin' that one, for sure.  You've been workin' on it for far too long, as it is.  I know you had to have it done before Christmas, but...

BUT IT SHOULDN'T HAVE BEEN THE ONLY THING YOU WERE KNITTIN'!

'Cause you really should have been knittin' somethin' for me.

As long as it wasn't a sweater.

MOUSES!

So Peepers, now that you've finished that sweater, what ARE you gonna knit for me?

Oh, wait a minute.  I know what you'll be makin'.  Probably startin' it tonight.  I do believe there was a bankie promised at one point.

Bankie...  Blanket...  Whatever.

MOUSES!

After all, you DID make that blanket for the car.

And the car isn't nearly as cute as me.  Why, I, Seville the Cat, AM WAY MORE CUTE than a car.

Ask anyone around and they'll tell you it's true.

MOUSES!

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

YOU WHAT???

Of all the stupid, idiotic, THOUGHTLESS things for a peep to do.

MOUSES!

APPARENTLY, the peep has MORE Christmas knittin' to do.  More Christmas knittin' for peeps, and not for me.

And she says my bankie will have to wait 'til that knittin' is done.

I'm gonna remember this, Peepers.  I'M GONNA REMEMBER, FOR SURE!

Peepers, it would be best you start inspectin' your shoes before putting 'em on.

'Cause you know what they say...

They say, you better watch out, you better not cry.  You better not pout, I'm tellin' you why.  Sivvers put a somethin', in your shoe.

MOUSES!

Not yet sure which end of me I'll be usin'.  Horked up hairballs are yukky but poopies are worse.  Either way, Peepers, YOU BETTER WATCH OUT, to be sure.

And FYI, it'll be like this 'til there's a paw-knitted bankie comin' my way.

MOUSES!

that can't be

Well that can't be.

Nah, that makes no sense at all.

That's gotta be the most stupendously stupid, stupidest nonsense I, Seville the Cat, have ever heard.  And believe-you-me, I've heard a whole lotta stupendously stupid nonsense, for sure.

After all, I do live with Peepers.

She says a lotta stupid stuff.

MOUSES!

But get this.  This is THE MOST STUPID thing she has ever said: Peepers says, she's makin' a blanket for the car.

A blanket.

For the car!

Can you believe it?

MOUSES!

Why the mouses would a CAR need a blanket?

WHY?

And this isn't gonna be some quick and easy knit that she can do up in a matter of days.  No sirree, this could take weeks.

Maybe months.

Even years.

I mean, how big does a blanket need to be if said blanket is for a car?  Cars are big.  The blanket is gonna have to be bigger.  So that it can cover up the whole car.

MOUSES!

And all that car-blanket-knittin' will take time away from time she COULD be spendin' knittin' somethin' for me.

MOUSES!

And then she says...

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

Oh.

Hmmm...

Okay, so Peepers now says the blanket isn't gonna be goin' on and around the car, keepin' the car warm.  So it doesn't have to be all that big.  She SAYS - now - that the blanket is gonna be kept inside the car so if anyone in the car gets chilly, they can snuggle on in.

Hmmm...

Okay, so that's gotta be the SECOND most stupendously stupid, stupidest nonsense I, Seville the Cat, have ever heard.  And like I said before, I've heard a whole lotta stupendously stupid nonsense, for sure.

'Cause you know, I live with the peep.

And she says a lotta stupid stuff.

MOUSES!

Peepers, WHY THE MOUSES would you even THINK of knittin' a blanket to keep anyone in the car nice and comfortably warm?   'Cause in case you didn't know...

In case you didn't know...

In case you didn't know, I, Seville the Cat, do not like goin' in the car.  I avoid it at all costs.  

So ipso facto defuncto, that there blanket is NOT gonna used by me.

Which means, your knittin' it really is the stupidest thing I've ever heard.

MOUSES!

Peepers, if you're plannin' on knittin' a blankie, you should be knittin' said blankie pour moi.

And it should be royal blue or forest green.  Somethin' that shows off my glorious marmalade furs.

And it needs to be incredibly plush and soft.  It won't be as soft as my furs, of course, but that kinda goes without sayin.  But it still needs to be soft.  Like feathers wrapped up in plush velvet or somethin' like that.

And what's most important of all, any blankie of mine should never even SEE the inside of the car.

Fact.

MOUSES!

askin' for trouble

What to do, what to do... What should I do 'bout my blog post today?  Should I write about...

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

Nothin'.  Nothin' at all.  Nothin' about which you should be concerned.

MOUSES!

Yeah, I suppose Peepers is worried on account of the fact that whenever I'm at a loss for a blog post topic, I USUALLY write about her.

MOUSES!

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

Nothin', I said.  Nothin' at all!

Oh, she's gettin' super worried, for sure.  Worried I'll write some kinda tell all post she's bound to find embarrassin'.

Again.

MOUSES!

But to tell you the truth...

The absolutely most truthful of all truths...

SHE REALLY SHOULD BE USED TO THAT BY NOW.

MOUSES!

But do you know somethin', my friends? The absolutely most truthful of all truths is that Peepers actually hasn't done anythin' stupid about which I can write.

Today.

So far.

MOUSES!

Oh, but yesterday....

Yeah, YESTERDAY she was doin' some knittin' after supper, and when she was all finished, she forgot to put her knittin' away.

Well, long story short...

Yeah, Saffy had some good ol' times with that big ol' ball of yarn.

Me?  You wanna know if I did anythin' to that yarn?

Well...

Well, I MIGHT have supervised.  Might even have pointed out that ball of yarn lyin' there to my brother.  I MIGHT EVEN have egged him on.

But just a teeny tiny bit.

'CAUSE IT'S NOT LIKE ME TO BE NAUGHTY.

Most of the time.

MOUSES!

You know, I can't help it if Saffron tore into that ball of yarn like it was a big ol' bag of the nip and pulled out a few stitches of knittin', here and there, once I happened to mention to Saffy that said ball of yarn was just lyin' there, askin' for trouble.

AND I CAN'T HELP IT if Saffy felt he NEEDED to tear into that yarn after hearin' that said yarn was badmouthin' him and tryin' to pick some kinda fight.

AND I CAN'T HELP IT if...

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

That yarn was too lookin' for a fight.  It was practically beggin' for one.

And it's not my fault it found a fight.  Not my fault, at all.

Besides, Peepers, you don't need any more cowls.  You only have the one neck, you know.  One neck, one cowl.  Instead, you should try knittin' somethin' useful like a nip mouse.

MOUSES!

what did you expect?

Well what did you expect, Peepers?  What did you expect?

I mean...

Well...

Well it's round, right?  Right.

And it's made of yarn, right?  Right.

And it looks kinda like a ball, right?  Right.

Fact is, it's a round ball of yarn.  So...

So...

SO OF COURSE SAFFY IS GONNA WANNA PLAY WITH IT.

WHAT DID YOU EXPECT HE WOULD DO?

MOUSES!

And you didn't see the half of it, ol' peep of mine.  Saffy found that ball of yarn of yours, hauled it out of your bag, flung it halfway across the room, and then back again.  That yarn was flyin' through the air like a chickadee high on the nip.

If chickadees appreciated a good sniff of the nip, that is.

But anyway, my point is...

WHAT DID YOU EXPECT HE WOULD DO?

And then Saffron rolled onto his side, held onto that ball of yarn like mad, and gave it the kickin' of all his nine lives.  Those hind paws of his were kickin' like crazy, they were.  Like crazy, I say.

And then...

And then he flung that yarn across the room, once more.

And then...

Well, then he got up and walked right out of the room, with both nose and tail held high.

Why-oh-why you're surprised 'bout any of this is beyond me.  He's a cat.  It's a ball of yarn.  This sort of behaviour is kinda what we cats like to do.

MOUSES!

And FYI, Peepers: I happened to check out that ol' ball of yarn after Saffy was done DOIN' WHAT CATS DO.  It's pretty much slobbered all over and there are bits kinda roughed up, if you know what I mean.  I doubt that yarn is still fit for knittin'.

And I'll ask this just once more.

JUST WHAT THE MOUSES DID YOU EXPECT HE WOULD DO?

MOUSES!

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

And remember:

IF IN DOUBT,

DON'T. GO. OUT.

Continue to practice SOCIAL DISTANCIN' measures

AND KEEP WASHIN' YOUR PAWS.

MOUSES!

Remember to mask up, too.

boomies

Whoa...  MAMA.

That was a loud one, for sure.

MOUSES!

Well my dear pals, I awoke this mornin' to heavy rain and SUPER LOUD boomies.  Super duper loud boomies, for sure.  Oh, I've heard louder, all right, but these ones were pretty loud as well.  Loud enough to send Saffron runnin' down to the basement to hide.

Plus, they went on and on and on.  Must have been boomin' for at least a good ol' hour!  And yes, Saffy was down in the basement that whole time.

MOUSES!

Now you're probably all wonderin' if I, Seville the Cat, was hidin' in the basement on account of the boomies, as well.

I was not.

Nope.  No sirree.  I did NOT run down to the basement to hide.

'Cause I was too busy hidin' under a bed.

MOUSES!

But once the boomies stopped, all was well with the world, again.  No damage done, at all.

I don't think.

Saffron went outside to inspect stuff after the storm had passed.  After the boomies had stopped, that is.  After the last of the boomies, he emerged from downstairs.  And, of course, after the pourin' rain had gone from a torrent to a drizzle.

But you know...

You know, even after the rain stops, the ground can still be wet.  The grass seems to take FOREVER to dry.

Which is the reason Peepers has been givin' for not havin' mowed the lawn in recent history.

MOUSES!

Now I don't know exactly where Saffy was walkin' this mornin' but boy-oh-boy, did his paws ever get wet.  All four of 'em were soppin', for sure.  If I didn't know better, I would think he had been wadin' through puddles out there.  But I DO know better and I KNOW that generally speakin', we cats don't wade in knee high water.  Generally speakin', we don't like gettin' our paws soakin' wet.

But wet they were.  Wet.  Wet.  WET!

No need to worry though, my dear pals.  He dried 'em all off.  Yup, on one of Peepers' good sweaters.

Serves the peep right for leavin' it on a chair just where a kitty with wet paws might put it to use.

MOUSES!

And FYI, the sweater is now in the wash.

Where it's wet.

MOUSES!

And speakin' of sweaters...

And speakin' of sweaters, Peepers is STILL workin' on the one she's been knittin' for what seems like weeks and weeks and weeks.  In all my nine lives, I HAVE NEVER seen anyone take so long to knit one stupid sweater.  I TRIED helpin' her out, but...

All I got were complaints.

My gosh, a kitty tries to lend a helpin' paw and gets nothin' but grief.

MOUSES!

And did you know...

And did you know (and this is TOTALLY UNRELATED topic), APPARENTLY, accordin' to some peeps, it is impossible to wash out cat slobber from unknitted yarn?

Well why don't you finish knittin' that stupid sweater, Peepers, and wash it out then!

My gosh, it's like I have to explain EVERYTHIN' to her.  Can't think for herself.  Tsk, tsk, tsk...

MOUSES!

Besides, there's absolutely no proof that slobber was mine.

Could have been Saffy's, you know.

FOR ALL I KNOW, it could have been HERS.

Peepers', I mean.  Peepers' stupid slobber.

'Cause I'm sure the girl drools.  Haven't caught her in the act but nevertheless, I AM POSITIVELY SURE.

There's no better explanation for that huge amount of slobber.

MOUSES!

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

And remember:

IF IN DOUBT,

DON'T. GO. OUT.

Continue to practice SOCIAL DISTANCIN' measures

AND KEEP WASHIN' YOUR PAWS.

MOUSES!

Remember to mask up, too.

MOUSES!

"MOUSES!"

"MOUSES!"

"MOUSES!"

I know, I know...  I know what you're thinkin'.  You're thinkin' somethin' has really got my goat, this mornin'.

If I had a goat, that is, but I, Seville the Cat, don't have a goat.  Truth be told, I, Seville the Cat, don't wanna have a goat, either.  Word on the street is that goats'll eat just about anythin' and the fact of the matter is, I, Seville the Cat, don't want any goats gettin' into and eatin' my nip.

"MOUSES!"

But the thing is, goat or no goat, I'm not the one yellin' mouses.

MOUSES!

Well, not ALL the yellin' of mouses, that is.

"MOUSES!"

And it's not Saffy Saffron Sassifras yellin' mouses, either.  In fact, neither of us cats are yellin' mouses.  IN FACT, it's not a cat yellin' mouses, at all!

Nope, it's a peep.  A peep named Peepers, to be exact.

"I know this pattern leaflet came as a free gift with the magazine, BUT WOULD IT KILL THEM to have someone go through the pattern, checking for errors, BEFORE printing it up?  Would it?  MOUSES!"

Boy-oh-boy my friends, I've been listenin' to her yellin' mouses this and mouses that all mornin' long.  To tell you the truth, I'm gettin' pretty sick and tired of hearin' this kinda foul language comin' from ol' Peepers' mouth.  Who does she think she is, A CAT?

And what's more, what's a few mistakes in a knittin' pattern here and there?  Just means she has to stop every now and then and work stuff out with pen and paper, herself, instead of relyin' on the pattern tellin' her what to do.  And sure, occasionally she has to go back to redo somethin' or whatever.  But I thought the woman LIKED knittin'.  That's what she says.  She's always claimed that.  Havin' to redo a few things here and there means gettin' to do more knittin', doesn't it?

Well DOESN'T it, my friends?

"MOUSES!"

And there she goes again.

MOUSES!

That time was me.

"MOUSES!"

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

And remember:

IF IN DOUBT,

DON'T. GO. OUT.

Continue to practice SOCIAL DISTANCIN' measures

AND KEEP WASHIN' YOUR PAWS.

MOUSES!

Remember to mask up, too.

one peep's trash

The chicken or the egg; which came first?

Hmmm...

So which one was it?  The chicken?  The egg?

Hmmm....

Depends on which you had first, I guess.  I mean, if you had a chicken that laid an egg, obviously the chicken came first.  But if all you had was an egg, and then that ol' egg happened to hatch, well then you've got a chicken.  A chicken that came AFTER the egg.

MOUSES, here I am - I, Seville the Cat - solvin' another one of life's little mysteries.  I keep this up and I'll have 'em all solved, for sure!

MOUSES!

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

You don't have any chickens, you say?  AH, but I happen to know for a fact there are two dozen eggs in the fridge so for you, the egg came first.  All twenty-four of 'em, for sure.

You're not plannin' on lettin' those eggs hatch, you say?

Then why do you even CARE which one came first?

MOUSES!

Some cat's peeps.

But that's all beside the point, anyway, 'cause I was just solvin' this little life mystery in order to solve an even bigger mystery in the mystery pool we call life.

Yeah, yeah...  I know that doesn't make much sense.  Sure sounds good, though, huh?  Makes me sound all philosophical and stuff.

MOUSES!

But anyway, back to the bigger mystery I am needin' to solve.  The mystery I am needin' to solve just for you, Peepers.  The mystery of...

Are you ready?

The mystery of which came first; the haste or the waste?

MOUSES!

Yes, Peepers, I AM talking 'bout you.  I, Seville the Cat, AM talking 'bout how in your hurry last night to do some knittin', you ended up knittin' AN ENTIRE ROW all wrong.  Yup, the whole thing was wack-a-doodle wacky and wacked.

And then, because you messed everythin' up, you had to take three rows out!

You know, 'cause you didn't notice your mistake right away.

So because of your haste, you WASTED all that time takin' out those three rows, which was a TOTAL WASTE of time, for sure.

Not to mention yarn.

Okay, so the wastin' of  yarn came later.  'Cause AFTER wastin' that time takin' out your mistake, you ended up tryin' to make up for the lost time by knittin' even faster.  And then...

AND THEN you ended up makin' more waste.

Yup, that's right Peepers, I saw you.  I see lots of things, you know, AND I DEFINITELY SAW you makin' the exact same mistake in the pattern for a second time.  I, Seville the Cat, am a very observant kitty, for sure.

MOUSES!

So let's see...  You started with haste, which produced a lot of waste.  Then the waste gave you even more haste - made you work even faster - and the additional haste from the original waste made you make even more waste, which then...

My mouses, that's kinda confusin'.  Confusin' like a tangled up ol' ball of yarn.

Which is what you ended up with after you figured out it would be easier to just start all over.

But on the other paw...

On the other paw, a tangled up ball of yarn is anythin' BUT waste when you're a cat, you see.  So the haste produced waste which produced haste which produced waste.  But although the second lot of waste was wastage for you, it was a wonderful treat and surprise for me, and therefore not wastage at all, so...

So this here...

My gosh I'm confused.

Just goes to show you: one peep's trash really is a marmalade cat's pleasure.

ANOTHER life mystery solved.

MOUSES!

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

And remember:

IF IN DOUBT,

DON'T. GO. OUT.

Continue to practice SOCIAL DISTANCIN' measures

AND KEEP WASHIN' YOUR PAWS.

MOUSES!

Remember to mask up, too.

whatcha makin'?

Whatcha makin' there, Peepers?  Somethin' for me?

Hmmm....

Okay Peepers, I'm lookin' at whatever it is - whatever that thing is you're makin' - and I'm thinkin' it might be a hat.

FYI: I'm a cat.  Cats don't wear hats.

MOUSES!

Okay, so there was that cat in the ol' Dr. Seuss book.  He wore a hat.  But I'm not that cat.

MOUSES!

And even if I WERE a cat who wore hats, that hat would be way too big for me.

MOUSES!

Hmmm...

Okay Peepers, I'm lookin' at this possible hat you're makin', and I'm thinkin' it might be more of a sleepin' bag or somethin' like that.  It''s way too l-o-n-g for a hat.

FYI: I'm a cat, Peepers.  Cats don't sleep in sleepin' bags.

MOUSES!

Okay, so maybe some cats do, but I, Seville the Cat, have NEVER slept in a sleepin' bag in my life, and I don't intend to start anytime soon.

MOUSES!

And even if I WERE a cat who liked to sleep in sleepin' bags, that sleepin' bag would be way too small for me.

MOUSES!

I mean, seriously, WHERE WOULD I PUT MY TAIL?

MOUSES!

You know...

You know, Peepers, if you were to leave both ends of that ol' sleepin' bag open, you could turn that knitted contraption of yours into a tunnel or somethin'.

EVERY THINK ABOUT DOIN' THAT?

Of course you haven't.  That would be way too practical a thing for a peep like you to think about doin'.

MOUSES!

Hmmm...

So Peepers, what ARE you makin' with those sticks and strings of yours?

Yeah, yeah, I KNOW.  I know they're really knittin' needles and not sticks, AND I KNOW the strings are balls of yarn.  Give me some credit, okay?

MOUSES!

But you still haven't answered my question.  WHAT THE MOUSES ARE YOU MAKIN'?  WHAT?

You are?

Really?

MOUSES!

Well I have to say, Peepers, that's a really nice thing for you to do.  A bit of a relief, too, on account of my now knowin' you're not gonna be expectin' me to either wear that thing on my head or climb into it for a nap, squishin' my tail in the process.  Yup, that's a really nice thing for you to do.

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

So it turns out, Peepers is makin' a pouch.  Yup, a pouch for little kangaroos, or joeys, or whatever they like to be called.  She's made a few so far, and is workin' on makin' some more, and then they'll be shipped out to Australia to help with the wildlife relief efforts there.  You know, the relief efforts to help with the animals harmed by the devastating bush fires.

MOUSES!

And if any of my readers - or their peeps - would like to help, too, check out the various relief effort groups on Facebook.  Here in Canada, there's a big group knittin' and sewin' and craftin' away.  Air Canada has offered up six - count 'em, SIX! - cargo flights departing from coast to coast, to help with transportation, but the deadlines for gettin' stuff on those planes are passin' as fast as you can say NIP ON A CHEESE PIZZA, really really fast.  But if you miss the cargo flight deadlines, DON'T DESPAIR!  Shipments are continuing to go out.  In fact, here in Nova Scotia, they're collectin' stuff at the Halifax Veterinary Hospital on Quinpool Road until January 31st.  (That's the deadline ol' Peepers is lookin' at.)  And after that, peeps travellin' by air to Australia are volunteerin' to take stuff, too.  Down Under Travel is also acceptin' crafted items until the end of this month at their Toronto, Calgary, and Vancouver offices.  So the best thing to do is to haul out your sticks and strings and stuff, and get yourself over to the Canadian Animal Rescue Craft Guild group on FB.  There you can find out what to make, how to make it, and where and with whom your crafted items can best be shipped out.

SO LET THE KNITTIN' BEGIN!

Or crochetin'...  Or sewin'...  You know.

MOUSES!

Oh Peepers...

Oh Peepers, when you're done knittin' those joey pouches there, how 'bout makin' me one - THAT VERY SAME SIZE - but sew it up on BOTH ends.  And here's the important part:  Before sewin' it up, stuff it with nip, would ya?  Yeah, I'm thinkin' a twenty centimetre square baggy of catnip would be a VERY good thing.

MOUSES!

oohhh... what's this?

Well thank you very much, Mr. UPS driver, Sir.  You need me to sign for that or anythin'?  X on the dotted line?  Pawprint or somethin'?  Anythin' like that?

No?  Okay-dokey then.  And if you wouldn't mind puttin' that there box inside the house for me, that would be great.

MOUSES!

Now I wonder what this could be.  I don't remember ordering anythin'.  Not even anythin' advertised on TV.

Let's take a little looksie, shall we?

Hmmm...  Apparently, it's addressed to the peep.

MOUSES!

BUT WE ALL KNOW, what's hers is mine, and what's mine is...  Well...  MINE.

MOUSES!

So she should have no problem with my openin' it up.

You know, this here box - as big as it is - it really kinda light.  I wonder if there's anythin' in it at all.  It might just be a box.

WHAT AM I SAYIN'???

There's no such thing as JUST a box.  A Jack-in-the-box, sure, but not JUST a box.  A box is a box is a box.  An item to be treasured and...  Well...  Shall we say..  REVERED?  And actually, empty boxes are the very best kinda boxes, on account of an empty box bein' the perfect place for cat like me to hang out.  You put too much stuff in a box, and there's no room inside that there box for me, and that, my friends, SUCKS.


MOUSES!

I'll just use a claw to examine this uh...  Umm...  OOPSIE!  Now look at that.  My claw accidentally tore right through the tape on that there box.

I wonder how that happened.

OOPSIE!  However it happened, it happened again.

And once more?  You know, for good measure.  Plus, it's a well known fact that these things happen in threes.

MOUSES!

And now that the tape is all split and no longer holding the box shut, I might as well go ahead and open it up, and...

OH MY MOUSES!  THE PEEP BOUGHT ME YARN!  Oh what a glorious peep my peep can be.  One, two, three...  FOURTEEN balls of yarn.

Bet you didn't know I knew how to count that high, huh?

MOUSES!

So I wonder what I'm gonna do with all these balls of yarn.  I'm usually content with unravelling one ball at a time.  I really don't need any more than the one.  It's not like I know how to knit.

On the other paw, the peep does.  Know how to knit, I mean.  She's not so much into the unravelling thing.

Hmmm...

I think...  I think I'll toss these balls of yarn outta my way, outta this here box, and onto the floor.  Might keep one, though.  You know, to unravel later on.  But I have no need for the rest.

And once the balls of yarn are all gone...

NOW THAT'S A BEAUTIFUL SIGHT TO BEHOLD.


An empty box.

BUT NOT ANYMORE!

*settles down and curls up in said box*

They SAY money can't buy happiness, but do you know what?   Money can buy a box, and a box is happiness wrapped up with a bow.

MOUSES!

of mice and mischief

What to do, what to do...

Oh WHAT to do...

MOUSES!

Oh hello there, my friends.  I was just sittin' here, wonderin' what to do.  Should I work on my blog for a bit?  Should I work on my book?  Perhaps I should take a nap.

Decisions, decisions...

MOUSES!

Pardon me?  I didn't quite hear that.

Oh, I should get into mischief, you say.

Well...

Well normally I'd be all for that, but truth be told, I've already reached my mischief quota for the day.  Actually, the REAL truth be told, earlier this mornin' I managed to reach my mischief quota for two - count 'em, TWO - days.

MOUSES!

I'm so pleased that you asked.  OF COURSE I'll tell you what mischief I got into today.

You want the short list or the long one?

Detailed account or bullet points?

Just the highlights, you say?

Hmmm...

Well for starters, there was the bowl of kibble I managed to knock over.  Now to tell you the truth, that wasn't so much mischief as uh..  Um..  Well...  Well as a traffic incident of sorts.  I was goin' one way, the peep was goin' another, I decided to dodge her paws...  I mean, feet, by makin' a hard right, and that right took me right into the kibble.

So really...

So really, incident numero uno can be totally blamed upon the peep.

MOUSES!

The next highlight of the mornin' was the blinds in my office.

Long story short, the fly is now dead.

And so, by the way, are the blinds.  Definitely injured if not dead.

MOUSES!

Okay, so what's next on my list?  Oh I know, that would be 'bout the time the peep's yarn mysteriously went from one end of the family room to the other.  The peep wasn't knittin' at the time.  Nope, no sirree.  At the time, she was makin' brekkies.  FOR HERSELF.  Well, coffee, actually, but coffee is part of the peepified brekkies ritual, I do believe.

Yup, THAT'S right.  The kibble and the blind incidents - plus a couple of other borin' things which I didn't bother to mention on account of your wantin' just the highlights of my mischief-filled mornin' - occurred BEFORE Peepers' first cup of coffee.

YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT?

No, seriously, do you?  'Cause from the looks she was givin' me, I kinda think the peep does.

MOUSES!

Okay, so where was I?

Oh yeah, the peep was busying herself with startin' a pot of coffee and I, Seville the Cat, found myself rather bored, so I went into the family room, hauled the ball of yarn the peep has been usin' out of her knittin' bag, and uh...  Um...  Well...  Well let's just say, afterwards, the ball had to be RE-wound.  Parts of it, anyway.  The parts that had not yet been used for knittin'.  Oh, and that was AFTER it was untangled, of course.  But to be fair, there was only ONE little itty bitty knot that I could see.  And to be REALLY fair, I'm not sure that ol' ball of yarn didn't come with the knot in the first place, so...

So really...

So really, that doesn't count as a mischief-makin' incident at all but rather, more of a helping-the-peep-to-find-the-knots-in-her-yarn-needing-to-be-untangled kinda thing.

MOUSES!

Well after the yarn business, I decided to take a nap.

At the top of the stairs leadin' to the basement.

We won't talk about that.

MOUSES!

And now...

Well now, at about quarter past ten in the mornin', although I HAD PREVIOUSLY THOUGHT my mischief quotas for both today and tomorrow had been all used up, I NOW REALISE some of my mischief was actually the peep's fault, and some of it wasn't even mischief at all.

So now I'm thinkin', although I could work on my book or my blog or even take another nap, what I REALLY should be doin' is checkin' on the nip mouse situation in the house and gettin' myself nipped.

And if you've never seen me gettin' into mischief while nipped...

WELL THEN YOU AIN'T SEEN NOTHIN' YET.

Please pardon my use of the so-called word, "ain't."

MOUSES!

the charmer

Let me be frank, my friends.

No, I don't mean, let be Frank.  My name is now, and always will be, Seville.

Plus, if I were to become Frank, who then would Frank be?

MOUSES!

Let's start over, shall we?

Let me be honest.

Let me be..

Okay, enough of that.  So without any further ado...

Let me just say that...

I, Seville the Cat, am a charmer.

MOUSES!

That's right!  Yup, you heard correctly.  I am a charmer, for sure.

Why, I EXUDE charm.  I...

What's that Rushy?

No, in this instance, exuding stuff is a good thing.  It's not like that time you had an abscess, and..

Somehow I appear to have gotten off track.

MOUSES!

Okay, so the other night, I hopped up onto the chesterfield and sat down next to Peep #1.  She was doing some knitting or something like that.  You know, playing with sticks and strings and things.

MOUSES!

But I needed her attention, so...

So I lifted a paw, and...

Ever so gently...

Ever so gently, I tapped on her knitting needle with my paw.

WASN'T THAT CUTE?

Oh yeah, I charmed the pants right off the peep with that move, for sure.

Well not really.  I mean, first of all, she wasn't wearing any pants.

NO!  She most certainly was not nekkid.  She was in her nightie, you see.  My peep never knits nekkid.  Nekkid knitting would simply not do, for seeing a pantless peep is a sight a kitty can never unsee.

Not in all a kitty's nine lives, for sure.

MOUSES!

It's really just an expression, I think.  The charming the pants off a peep thing, I mean.

Rest assured, no pants were harmed by my charming behaviour, at all.

MOUSES!

But anyway...

But anyway, after being incredibly adorable and cute with the tapping of the knitting needle with a paw thing, do you know what I did?

Well I'LL TELL YOU what I did.

I...

Are you ready?

I, Seville the Cat, stretched out on my tummy and started kneading the peep's leg.

No, not her pantless leg.  I thought we already covered that.

And speakin' of covering, her leg was covered, too.  Her nightie was covering it, completely.

MOUSES!

But I, Seville the Cat, am not normally a needy...  I mean, kneady - 'cause actually, I sometimes can be a little needy, in fact - cat, you see.  So when I started kneading the peep's leg with my paws, she was all...

OOHING and AHHING and that sort of thing.

To be perfectly honest, I'm a little surprised she didn't call up the papers!

Probably on account of her not wanting to stand up and disturb me while I was doing my kneading, to be sure.

MOUSES!

a cat can look at a peep

Whatcha doin' there, Peepers?  How come you're lookin' at me like that?

Because I'M lookin' at you, you say?  Your excuse is, you're simply lookin' at me back?

Hmmm....

First of all, there, Peepers - I, Seville the Cat, am a cat.  Kinda self-explanatory, that.  At least I would think.  You know, on account of cat bein' right there in my name at all, and...

Well I'm gettin' to that.  MOUSES!

Thing is, like I was sayin' before bein' so rudely interrupted: I'm a cat.  And CATS are allowed to look at peeps any time they please.  You've never heard how a cat can look at a queen?  Well that's 'cause they're cats.  And if a cat can look at a queen, a cat can most CERTAINLY look at a peep.

Peeps, on the other paw...  Well peeps can't just go 'round lookin' at queens and kings and things.  A peep directs an unsavoury glance toward a king or a queen, and a peep might just find herself thrown into a dungeon or somethin' like that.

Just pointin' that out to you, Peepers, in case you ever get an inkling to go gawkin' at Her Majesty the Queen.

MOUSES!

But gettin' back on topic here.  Like I said before, a CAT can look at a queen.  And if a cat can look at a queen, I CAN GUARANTEE YOU, a cat can look at a peep.  And I, Seville the Cat, am all cat.

MOUSES!

Well I'm just gettin' to that!

Boy-oh-boy, a kitty can't even finish a sentence 'round here without bein' interrupted and stuff.

MOUSES!

So anyway...

So anyway, LIKE I WAS SAYIN', a cat has every right to look at a peep if said cat wishes to do so, BUT...

But I wasn't even lookin' at you in the first place.

*furiously shakes head in denial*

No sirree.  I, Seville the Cat, was lookin' at your yarn.

MOUSES!

Now did I SAY I was gonna grab hold of your yarn and start slobberin' all over it and stuff?  Did I?  DID I?

Not that I wasn't intendin' to do exactly that, BUT...

But did I SAY I was gonna do somethin' like that?

Or are you just jumpin' to conclusions?

And speakin' of jumpin', we cats are better at THAT than peeps, too.

Just sayin'...

MOUSES!

NO...  No, we're not better at jumpin' to conclusions than peeps.  We're better at jumpin', in general.  You might wanna keep that in mind if you think that by sittin' on that there chesterfield, your yarn is out of my reach.

MOUSES!

Peepers, Peepers, Peepers...  Whatever makes you think I wouldn't be better at knittin' than you?  Remember how I'm a cat?  Well we cats are better at almost everythin' you peeps can do.

Like what, you ask?

Well...

Well like yarn work, for starters.  Yeah, workin' with yarn.  We cats don't need no stinkin' knittin' needles to play with a stupid ol' ball of yarn.  Why, we cats are perfectly capable of playin' with yarn without a single knittin' needle in sight.  And that's somethin' a peep simply cannot do.

Yeah, yeah...   Peeps do do that cat's cradle thingamajig with strings and things, but...

But did you notice how it's called a CAT'S cradle, and not a peep's cradle?  Huh?  HUH?  Well, DID YOU?

MOUSES!

You're still not convinced of my yarn work superiority, huh?

Hmmm...

Well then why don't you let me show you?  Let me prove to you my infinite superiority.  Here, paw me over that ball of yarn, and...

What, you can't bring yourself to share your stupid ol' ball of yarn with the one and only SEVILLE THE CAT?

For mousin' out loud.

What a selfish, selfish, SELFISH peep you are.

You're a real YARN hog, for sure.

And did I happen to mention you were selfish?

MOUSES!