nippy fresh breath

Hey everybody!  Sivvers here...

Gosh, this blogging stuff is really hard. Nissy made it look so easy but let me tell you, it's not.  It's darned tootin' difficult!  Firstly, you have to come up with a topic and then...  Then you have to write about it!  MOUSES!

So this morning I was pulling my whiskers this way and that and getting my tail all in a dither, wondering what on earth I would write about.  I was at a loss.  I was beginning to think I had writer's block and wondering if that was anything like the crystals block - which I have had, twice, although nothing in the last couple of years thank goodnees but both times I did have them, I had to be hospitalised so I was hoping against all hope that writer's block was nothing like the crystals block because I really didn't want to go into hospital again. Whatever was blocking me, I was going to have to unblock myself.

Then it came to me.  NIP!

What better thing to write about than nip?

An Ode to the Nip...

Nah, I'm not really a poet although I did write that one poem way back when.  Remember that? Nissy told you all about it, I believe.  I wrote it after my first bout with the crystals.

Easy Peasy

The more I drink,
the more I pee.
The more I pee,
the easier it be.
Easy peasy.
That's the key!

Yeah, I wrote that poem way back when for Peep #1.  I gave it to her for Valentine's Day, I do believe.  Right after I peed on her.  Yup, that was the peeing on the peep incident to which I alluded in my last blog post.  The peeing on the first peep incident, to be exact.

So anyway, I hemmed and I hawed and then I hawed and I hemmed and then finally, I decided exactly what to do.  I decided that I'd leave the sonnets to Shakespeare and instead, write in regular old prose.

So I struck a pose!

Then I remembered the difference between prose and pose and realised that that one little letter 'r' made a world of difference, for sure, and got down to business.

NIP.

As many of you know, my late brother Nissy was a true connoisseur of the nip.  He was a bit of a nip expert, you see.  Actually, he was a bit of a niphead, too.

Knowing Nissy's political aspirations, I often wondered why Nissy didn't consider starting up his own political party.  The Nip Party...   Has a nice ring to it, don't you agree?  Of course, peeps might think it's the wrong kind of party or something, I suppose.  Guess that's why Nissy didn't want to do that.  He was one very wise kitty, for sure.

But just as my family and I will always love my brother Nissy, we will also always love the nip. Rest assured, nip will always be an important topic of conversation at my house and here on this blog, too.

And I actually have some important nip-related news.  At Christmas, Peep #1 finally broke down and admitted her lack of nip-growing skills.  Total disaster on the nip-growing front.  For years she has tried and for years she has failed.  Got to give her top grades for consistency even though it's a kind of consistency we can all certainly do without.

So anyway, the peep promised that she would give us a belated Christmas gift of nip plants as soon as the nurseries were open and sure enough, she kept her promise.  Last week, she arrived home one day with three lovely catnip plants.

Of course, I immediately checked out their providence as I remembered way back when, when Nissy had been fooled by a big old plant of lemon balm. It did look like nip, I'll grant you that. Looked a lot like nip, for sure.  But the smell...  The smell!  It was so gross.  It smelled of lemons!  MOUSES!

And then there was the Valerian.  You send a peep out for nip and what does she bring home?  VALERIAN!

Actually, I have to admit that I quite enjoyed the Valerian root.  Nissy wasn't into it.  Said it smelled like stinky feet. Guess it all depends upon whose feet you're used to sniffing.  MOUSES!

Well like I said, I checked out the plants the peep brought home and found them to indeed be nip. Three beautiful catnip plants.

The peep set them aside on the driveway, waiting to be planted over the weekend.  Silly peep.

So the very next morning, I went outside to check on the nip plants for Peep #1 and what did I find? Nothing but stubble!  Someone had found those three nip plants and mowed them down to the ground.  MOUSES!

No, it wasn't mice.  Wasn't slugs or other thugs, either.  It was a fur-sib, I think.  Of course, my brothers and sisters all denied any knowledge of the incident but I'm pretty sure I could detect a certain nippy freshness to Mason's breath.  Mason claimed she had used nip-flavoured toothpaste that morning but I don't think anyone has invented that yet.  The Peep should have installed surveillance cameras by those nip plants, for sure.

Well the remnants of the nip plants were indeed planted over the weekend and are now safe and sound in a cage.  That's right, they're caged.  Big old dog crate with the bottom sawed off is protecting them from becoming snacking material by any marauding cats.

And marauding fur-sibs, too.

You know, Nissy had been saving up his pennies...

Scratch that.  Nissy had been saving up his nickels and dimes - on account of the Canadian government getting rid of all the pennies - to invest in nip futures.  He said that nip futures were going to be THE NEXT BIG THING.  But like I told my sister Mason...  There can be no future in nip that has been nipped in the bud and that's a fact, for sure.

So anyway, that's all for today about the nip.  I'll be back again on Sunday.  Paws crossed there will be no nipping of the nip between now and then.  Got to give those plants a chance to grow. MOUSES!

I have nip!

Nip farmin'...  HERE I COME.

That's right.  I have nip!

Santa was very good to us kitties on the nip front, this year.  There were nip mice and biff bags galore. You know what biff bags are, don't you?  They're little knitted bags containing nip that we cats can biff about. Thus the name, biff bags.  Of course, since they contain nip, we don't do a lot of biffin' with them. More slobberin' than biffin', really.  Nip is meant to be sniffed and licked and slobbered over...  not biffed.

Anywho...  Santa brought all of us cats toys with nip and so far, no one has peed on any of 'em. Yeah, it happens.  Not this year though and thank goodness for that.

But my brother, Seville, peed on the peep.  Yup, he peed on the peep, yesterday.  Actually, he sprayed her.  Yup, he sprayed Peep #1.  It did not go over well.  Guess he was lettin' her know she was his or somethin'.  Don't know what got into him.  The rest of us just rub up against the peeps' legs like normal cats do.  MOUSES!

But back to the nip.

Santa wasn't the only one bearin' nip, this year.  One of my amazin' bloggin' buddies sent me the most incredible nip that I have ever sniffed and believe you me, I, Nerissa the Cat, have sniffed some pretty fantastic nip in my time.  I'm not sure if I'm allowed to reveal my pal's name.  Might be a secret or somethin'.  But I sure do wanna thank him 'cause let me tell you, that nip is incredible stuff.  Mixed in with the nip is Valerian root and honeysuckle and a little cat mint, too.  It's heavenly. Mouses that stuff is good.

Peep #1 has promised to do us up some fabric crinkle toys with that special nip blend.  She's gonna do 'em up after the holidays are all over and things are gettin' back to normal.  As if my house is ever normal.  Excuse me while I drop everythin' and laugh myself silly for the next half-hour or so.   I swear, my peeps live in a constant state of delusion.  Deludin' themselves into thinkin' our house can be anythin' but confusing.  Delusional confusion is the normal state of affairs 'round here.  Yup, that's the normal state of affairs, for sure.

But once things are back to our normal state of delusional confusion, the peep is gonna do up those crinkle toys.  Gonna make one for my pal who sent me the special nip blend, too.  He's gonna love it 'cause you know, it's nip!

The peeps got us some nip, too.  Well...  sort of.

Under the Christmas tree, this year, I found a card from the peeps.  In that card was a promissory note for full-grown nip plants in the spring.  As soon as the nurseries open up for the season, Peep #1 is gonna head out and get us some nip plants.  Nip plants we can plant in the garden, allowin' us to grow our very own nip.

Guess the peep has given up on growin' the stuff from seed.  One dismal failure after another, that has been.  Don't know what her problem is.  The woman grows all sorts of stuff from seed.  Even things like plumeria and linden trees.

Of course, plumeria and linden trees are useless to me.  The only thing those plumies are good for is ten pin plumie bowlin' in the sunroom.  Pretty good game when the plants are small but the bigger they get, the harder it is to knock 'em down in their pots, if you know what I mean.

And linden trees!  Don't get me started on those.  Oh yeah, they look pretty, growin' out there in the garden and whatnot but there are no horizontal branches on those trees.  Totally useless for climbin'.  Totally useless, for sure.  MOUSES!

But give the peep a package of nip seed and you know what you get?  Nothin'.  Give her two packages of nip seed and do you know what you get?  Nothin' times two.  Give her three packages...   You get the picture, I am sure.  Doesn't matter how many times you multiply nothin' with somethin' you still end up with nothin'.  Again I must say, MOUSES!

This time, the peep is gettin' grown-up plants, already growin' and everythin'.  But with her track record on the nip growin' front, I don't think she can be trusted with those plants.  No, these plants will be cared for by none other than me.  I'm gonna be a nip farmer.

And remember how I asked Santa to bring Peep #1 a Growin' Nip for Dummies book for Christmas? Well that didn't happen.  Santa ran into a slight problem with that.  Apparently, the book on Growin' Nip for Dummies has not yet been written.  He told me I should write one myself.

And I was all prepared to write that book, Growin' Nip for Dummies, too.  I began with the title but then I thought... MOUSES! that can't be right.  What is the Claus insinuating 'bout me?

To tell you the truth, I don't think Santa was insinuating anythin' but still, the title of the book threw me for a bit of a loop.  It's all in how you say it, you see. It's a matter of interpretation.

Growin' Nip for Dummies...  Is it a book written so that peeps like my peep can grow nip?  Peeps who might have been exposed as dummies on the nip growin' front, before?  OR is it a book 'bout growin' nip that you will then give to dummies.  You know, nip FOR dummies.  MOUSES!

I, Nerissa the Cat, may be a lot of things but a dummy I am not.  No way, no how, can anyone call me that.  Gotta rework the title of my book, I think.  Probably a good idea, anyway.  That dummy franchise thing-a-ma-jig has already been taken.

NIP GROWIN': Dumbed Down for a Certain Incompetent Peep.  Kinda catchy, don't you think?

Anywho...  As soon as the nip plants are available in the spring, I'll be gettin' mine and I'll plant 'em and water 'em and feed 'em with...  Well actually, I'll supervise the peep doin' all that stuff.  I'm gonna be more of a gentleman nip farmer, if you know what I mean.

I'll supervise the peep while she plants 'em and waters 'em and feeds 'em with whatever nip plants like to eat.  I'm thinkin' it's not Fancy Feast or anythin' like that but whatever it is, it's gotta be good. Only the best for my nip plants, for sure.  Gotta make sure that the peep gives my nip plants the very best of care.

This is gonna be the start of a whole new career for me.  I've been savin' up my bottle money to invest in nip futures for what seems like forever.  I'm sure I've got lots of bottle money saved up in my froggy bank.

I know, most cats have piggy banks but long, long ago I made the mistake of sendin' the peep out to get me a piggy bank and instead, she came home with one that is most definitely not a pig but rather, a frog.  What a peep.

But whether it be a pig or a frog, it's still a bank.  And it's the bank containin' all my bottle money and my potential investment in nip futures.  I'm thinkin' that by growin' some nip myself...

Actually, I'm not sure what I'm thinkin'. I don't really think that's how these investment futures work.  I need to figure that one out.

But in the meantime, I'm gonna start up my nip farm.  With only a pawful of plants, it will be a rather small farm, at first.  Kinda piddly, actually.  But it's a start.  That's what's important.  My plants will grow and as they do, so will my farm.  My nip-growin' farm...  WONDERFUL.  Yup, nip farmin'...  HERE I COME.  It's gonna be amazin'.  Gonna be amazin', for sure.  MOUSES!

investin' in nip

I padded into the family room Friday night only to discover my sister, Mason, sniffin' around my froggy bank.  "Whatcha doin' there, Mason?" I asked.

"I was wondering how much money you had saved up, that's all," Mason replied.

Mason is a mathematical genius, you know.  She's always interested in counting stuff and whatnot on account of her bein' a polydactyl cat and havin' those extra toes.  Or are they thumbs?   Probably thumbs 'cause they're on her front paws.  Bottom line is, she likes to count stuff 'cause she can.  She likes to show off those toes.  Thumbs...  Whatever.

A number of cats in the Blogosphere get allowances. That's what gave me the idea of startin' up a savings plan for myself but I don't actually get an allowance. No, the peeps are too cheap for that.  Instead, I get the bottle money.  Whenever a peep gets money for returnin' recyclable bottles, the money goes into my froggy bank.

Of course, most cats keep their money in piggy banks.  I sent the peep out for a piggy bank but you know peeps...  Send a peep out for a piggy bank and she comes back with a frog.  Apparently, Peep #1 doesn't know the difference between pigs and frogs.  She also doesn't know that frogs are green. Well, the stereotypical frog is green.  I've seen brown ones in my garden.  But I've never seen an orange frog.  Only orange frog I've ever seen is the frog that is my froggy bank that was supposed to be a pig.  MOUSES!

Anywho...  I figured there must be quite a bit of money in my orange, froggy bank as I have been savin' for well over a year now but I was curious as to why Mason was wantin' to know just how much I had.  So I asked her.

"They were talking on television that the trimmers were for sale," explained Mason.  "I was wondering if you had enough bottle money to buy them."

"Trimmers?" I asked.  "You mean for hedges?  Those are on sale at the hardware store all the time.  Don't you read the flyers?  What's so special about these trimmers?"

Mason propped a thumbed paw under her chin, flexing and stretching that thumb, showin' it off and whatnot.  "Maybe that's the wrong name.  Snippers?"

"Hardware store sells snippers, too," I explained.

"CLIPPERS!" cried Mason.  "Some sort of sports team called the Clippers might be going up for sale.  Someone on CNN said it might go a billion dollars.  Do you think you have enough saved up in your froggy bank for that?"

Sometimes I wonder 'bout my sister Mason.  Firstly, there was no way, no how, that a billion dollars worth of loonies and toonies was gonna fit in my froggy bank.  And even if it did, it would be way too heavy for me to take to the Clippers store.  Secondly, I couldn't even imagine how many bottles of stuff the peeps would have to drink to recycle a billion dollars worth of bottles.  And lastly but most importantly, everyone KNOWS the money in my froggy bank is earmarked for an investment in nip futures.

"You goin' crazy, Mason?  You KNOW that money is earmarked for nip futures."  I turned my back to her and began washin' my tail.

"It was just a thought," Mason sighed.  "Originally, you were going to use your bottle money to buy toys and these whipper snippers - I mean, Clippers - play basketball which requires basketballs which are balls and balls are toys, so..."

"Don't think they're toys for cats, Mason.  Firstly, basketballs are way too big for cats to play with unless those cats happen to be lions or somethin'.  Rushy comes close to bein' a lion but not even he is big or strong enough to handle a basketball.  More importantly, I don't think basketballs contain nip.  Pretty much useless without nip," I explained.

Mason was right about one thing, though.  I had originally intended on usin' my savings to buy toys. I think I might even have made mention of buyin' toys with it when sending the peep out to find me a pink piggy - and not orange froggy - bank, way back when.

But then I got to thinking 'bout stuff and realised that the peeps buy us toys all the time.  And Santa Claus brings us toys at Christmas.  And every now and then someone sends us a toy as a prezzie or whatever.  When you think about it, we cats actually get a lot of toys.  No need for me to be spendin' my own savings on more.

On the other paw, one can never have too much nip.  No siree!  Nip is where it's at.  Nip is what makes the word go round.  Nip is the best thing since sliced bread!  Maybe even better.  Actually, from a cat's perspective, nip IS better.  No doubt about that.

I don't actually know how to invest in nip futures just yet but as soon as I have enough money in my froggy bank to do so, I'm gonna find out.  I don't even really know what nip futures are but I do know this...  A FUTURE FILLED WITH NIP IS WORTH THE EFFORT OF FINDIN' OUT!

I'll have to do some research on these nip future thingies so that when the time comes, I'm ready to invest.  In the meantime, I'll let Mason count up the money in my froggy bank.  Gettin' the chance to show off her countin' skills and those extra toes will make her day.

Toes...  Thumbs...  Whatever.