Christmas Eve, Eve

 

Oohhh boy - *rubs front paws together with glee* - only two more days 'til Christmas.  Today is Christmas Eve, Eve

MOUSES!

That's right, only two days left before the Big Guy in Red stops by my house with nip mice and treats.

I CAN'T WAIT!

Okay, so I actually can.  Wait, I mean.  It's not like I have a choice, anyway.  The calendar is what it is, and Christmas is still two days away.

MOUSES!

This Christmas is gonna be different from others, for sure.  Due to COVID travel restrictions, I haven't been able to use my teleportation device, so this year there are no Christmas adventures for me.  I did consider firin' up the ol' flyin' fryin' pan anyway and flyin' right past the border patrols and stuff, but...

BUT IT WOULD BE WRONG.

So I didn't.

MOUSES!

I also briefly considered doin' a little time-travellin' and travellin' back in time to a pre-pandemic world, but...

BUT THAT WOULD BE WRONG, TOO.

So I didn't.

Didn't wanna risk startin' a pandemic up in some other time.  Can you IMAGINE bein' responsible for somethin' like that?  My gosh, I'd end up on Santa's naughty list for eternity, never to see the Big Guy in Red, again.

MOUSES!

I did get to chat with some birdies this mornin'.  Yup, chatted with a couple blue jays emptying out the feeder Peepers filled earlier today.  They're not travellin' anywhere for Christmas, either.  Why would they?  They've got the peep wrapped 'round their little feet, fillin' up feeders for 'em and cleanin' up the messes they leave behind.

Oh, you should have seen 'em today.  TWO blue jays perched on either side of a feeder not meant for birds the size of blue jays, at all, treatin' it like a seesaw or somethin' and dumpin' all the bird seed out.

That, too, IS WRONG, but hey, I'M not arguin' with a couple squawky jays.

MOUSES!

So this year, besides those blue jays who are stickin' around, I'll be spendin' Christmas at home and all alone...

Well with the peeps, I suppose, but I won't be cavorting with Rudolf or Santa or any elves...

Which is a good thing, in a way, 'cause let me tell ya, ELVES CAN GET AWFULLY CRANKY AT THIS TIME OF YEAR.

It's the stress of havin' to make all those toys on a tight deadline and then havin' to wrap 'em all up.

MOUSES!

But even though I have no adventures on the go on account of my STAYIN' THE BLAZES HOME just like Premier McNeil says we should do, I can always share some Christmas adventures from years, past.  Right?  RIGHT.

MOUSES!

So here you are, my friends.  Here are some of my adventures from the many Christmases that have come before.  ENJOY!

The Santa Sack, part I, and The Santa Sack, part II, 2019

'Twas the Night Before Christmas, 2018

 The Shelf Elf, 2017

Santa's Mail Train and Mason to the Rescue, 2017

Reindeer Dust and Seville Saves Christmas, 2016

The Mysterious Ornament, 2015

The Naughty List, 2014

Home in Time for Christmas, 2013

MERRY CHRISTMAS, MY FRIENDS.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!

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

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.

tropical island paradise

Trying to roll the flower pot had proved futile.  Being wider at one end than the other, it continually insisted upon travelling in circles.  Half dragging, half pushing the pot, Nissy eventually made it into the kitchen.  "MOUSES!  Hey Sivvers, help me with this, would ya?"

Seville sauntered over to Nissy, giving the flower pot a good sniff.  "What's up with the pot, Nissy?  You planning on planting some nip?"

"Something like that," Nerissa answered.  "We're goin' on an adventure."

"Excellent!" declared Seville.  "Where to?"

"My brother, my man...  we're headed to a tropical island paradise.  SIVVERS...  PREPARE THE TELEPORTATION DEVICE!" Nissy cried.

Nerissa continued, "There's more talk about the Turks and Caicos Islands joinin' Canada, Seville. Those islands are supposed to be a real tropical paradise.  Sunpuddles and sand as far as the eye can see.  You and I are gonna do a little investigating.  Check those islands out.  Get a paw or two in on the ground floor and plant the seeds that if peeps there wanna join Canada, they should join Nova Scotia, too.  Now, help me get this pot into the flying frying pan."

"That why we're packin' the flower pot?" asked Seville.  "Is it because we're going to be planting the seeds?"

Nerissa rolled his eyes and shook his head with exasperation.  "Nah, the pot is for a plumie.  We're gonna bring back a plumeria tree from the Turks and Caicos Islands for Peep #1 as a prezzie. Heard they grow well there."

Working together, the two brothers managed to get the flower pot into the teleportation device. Grabbing a few snacks for the trip, Nissy climbed in, followed by Seville.  Moments later, the cats were teleporting due south, towards the tropical paradise of the Turks and Caicos Islands.

On the way, Nerissa explained to Seville how the Premiers of Saskatchewan and Prince Edward Island were both hinting they would like the Turks and Caicos to join one of their provinces.  "They were tweetin' stuff 'bout it all over the place," Nissy said, "but anyone lookin' at a map of Canada would see immediately that a union with Nova Scotia makes the most sense, geographically."

"And think about all those snowbirds that travel from Nova Scotia to Florida and Mexico and whatnot. Bet they'd much rather travel to the Turks and Caicos Islands if those islands were part of their own province.  Apparently tourism is a big part of their economy, just like it is with ours.  We have a whole lot in common, you know."

"But I heard that Ottawa put the kibosh on that whole annexation idea," interjected Seville.  "I was nappin' with the news on and that's what I heard."

"We don't need Ottawa, Seville," answered Nerissa.  "I did some background investigatin' and found that way back in 2004, when I was only one-year-old and before you were even born, the Nova Scotia Legislature voted unanimously to invite the Turks and Caicos Islands to join our province. UNANIMOUSLY.  You have any idea how hard it is to get those politicians to vote on anything unanimously?  Almost impossible, I tell you.  They must really want this and I'm thinkin', so do I."

Landing softly on a sun drenched beach, the boys stepped out of the teleportation device.  The warm sand tickled the pads of their paws.  They both stretched out and did what any self-respecting cats would do when confronted with sand...  roll in it. "Ohhh...  a sand bath," moaned Seville, luxuriating in the soft bed that was the beach.

Half an hour later or so, Nerissa stood up in the sand and gave himself a good shake.  "Come on Sivvers," he instructed.  "We need to explore the islands and find ourselves a plumeria tree.  Help me with this flower pot, would you?"

Pushing and dragging the flower pot up a hill and away from the beach, Seville muttered something about how they should have teleported directly to wherever the plumies grew.  The flower pot was proving most uncooperative.

The cats could see beautiful island resorts off in the distance but Nissy wisely suggested they head in the other direction.  "Remember, we're lookin' for a plumeria to take home with us, Seville.  We wanna find one that doesn't belong to anybody.  Peeps workin' in those resorts might object if we take one of theirs."

Eventually they came to a grassy clearing and in that clearing, they found a plumeria tree.  It was the most beautiful tree the cats had ever seen.  Far more beautiful than any of Peep #1's plumies. Not only was it considerably larger than any of her potted plumeria but also, it was blooming. Nerissa inhaled deeply, enjoying the exotic fragrance of the flowers.  "Isn't it glorious?" he asked his brother.

"Sure is," agreed Seville.  "How are we going to dig it up?  We forgot to pack spades."

"Don't need 'em," Nissy explained.  "We're cats.  Cats don't need spades to dig.  Just use your paws."

Nissy climbed up into the plumeria tree to see where he and his brother should starting digging. "Hmmm...  Oh-oh.  We might have a little problem here."

"What kind of problem?" Seville asked.  "You think we'll need those spades after all?"

"Nope.  Not a spade issue but rather, a size issue.  Hmmm....  I'm lookin' at the size of the flower pot we brought with us and I'm lookin' at the size of this tree and I'm thinkin'...  Hmmm..."  He climbed down from the plumeria tree and sat back on his haunches, studying the situation carefully, trying to figure out a way to get the tree into the flower pot.

After careful deliberation Nerissa cried in frustration, "MOUSES!  No way, no how, is this tree gonna fit in that pot, Sivvers."

"Yeah, I kind of figured that," Seville agreed.  "I came to the same conclusion about an hour ago."

"What?  Then what have you been thinkin' about for the past hour?"

"Dinner, mostly," answered Seville.  "It has been a long time since we ate those snacks earlier. Why don't we go find ourselves a restaurant and order up some nosh?  I saw a gorgeous resort over that way," and he pointed a paw in the direction of the beach.  "Bet they have some really nice restaurants over there."

"Yeah...   why not...   whatever.  Looks like the plumie tree is a bit of a bust.  Pick some flowers for Ol' Peepers and put 'em in the flower pot, Sivvers.  That's the best we'll be able to do.  Then we'll head on down to the beach and find ourselves some drinks and some snacks.  They're supposed to have great fishin' in these here islands.  We'll get us some fish and some drinks, enjoy a late dinner and some fun in the sun and then head on back to Nova Scotia.  Maybe I'll try my paw at surfin'. They probably have surfboards to rent.  Come on Sivvers..." and the two cats made their back to the beach area in search of dinner and surfboard rentals.  "Hop to it, Sivvers!  Make sure none of those plumeria flowers fall out of that flower pot.  I'll lead the way."


"Ummm...  Nissy?" Seville's voice was muffled by his efforts to drag the flower pot.  "Wanna help with this..."

"What's that, Seville?  Hmmm...  hold on.  I'm currently calculatin' the best route back to the beach.  Hurry up with that flower pot, huh?  Time's a-wastin' and dinner is a-waitin'!  Try not to dilly-dally quite so much."

"MOUSES!" Nissy muttered under his breath.  "You'd think I was askin' him to do the impossible.  Drag a little flower pot down to the beach.  Really, is that too much to ask?  Mouses, indeed."

Seville's four-leaved clovers

Nissy softly padded into the kitchen, only to find his brother Seville up on the table, surrounded by a mess of glue, paint, workbooks and other assorted paraphernalia. "Whatcha up to there, Sivvers?" he asked.

"Oh, just super gluing some clovers together."

Only half-listening to his brother, Nissy continued over to the fridge and poured himself a cold mug of nip beer.  "Uh-huh...  I see. WAIT A MINUTE," and he stopped in his tracks.  "Did you say you were super gluing clovers together?"

"Yup.  Not working out all that well, though.  They keep fallin' apart.  Plus, I think I accidentally super glued some stuff together I didn't actually mean to super glue together.  FYI, don't sit in that chair over there," and Seville pointed to one of the kitchen chairs with his tail.  "And I wouldn't jump onto the stool, either."

"MOUSES!  Why on earth are you super gluing together clovers?" Nissy questioned.

"Well, I tried hot gluing them together but the glue kept melting the leaves," answered Seville.

Nissy shook his head furiously.  "Not what I meant, Sivvers.  Perhaps I didn't word that well.  I wanted to ask, why on earth are you workin' with the clovers in the first place?"

"Peep #1 said she'd really like to find a four-leaved clover 'cause they're supposed to be lucky and I thought I would give her one for St. Patrick's Day, tomorrow."

"Hmmm..." Nissy pondered.  "I think they're only lucky if they grow that way naturally.  I'm not sure that the luck sticks if they're glued together."  He picked up one of Seville's supposed four-leaved clovers and a leaf fell off.  "Apparently your glue isn't stickin', either.  I thought super glue stuck to everything.  That's why Ol' Peepers is always tellin' us cats to keep away from it.  You know...  in case it sticks to our fur."

"Oh, it sticks to fur, all right," confirmed Seville.  "I now have a green permanent marker permanently stuck to my...  my...  my ummm...."

Nerissa noticed the marker and exclaimed, "You sat on it?"

"Yeah...  I spilled some glue on the marker and the rest is history."

"MOUSES!  Seville, Ol' Peepers is gonna be furious when she sees this mess."  Nerissa took a sip of his nip beer.  "And may I ask why there's an open time vortex in our kitchen?  You been messin' with whisks again?"

Seville glanced over at the vortex.  "Oh...  that.  I needed some clovers for my work and, in case you hadn't noticed, there's still snow on the ground outside.  Needed to make a quick trip to July to pick up a supply of the stuff."

"Makes sense, I suppose," and Nissy nodded in agreement.  "But how come the vortex is still open?"

"I might have accidentally glued it open.  I didn't realise I had spilled super glue on that whisk..." and Seville looked away, somewhat shamefully. "Not quite sure how to fix that yet."

"MOUSES!" Nissy cried.  "The peep is gonna explode when she finds out we've got a permanently open time vortex in the kitchen.  You're gonna have to find a way to close that before she sees it."

"I was sort of hoping she wouldn't notice," explained Seville.  "And if I can just get these clover leaves to stick together, maybe even if she does notice, she'll be so happy about the lucky clovers that she won't freak out too much about the vortex."

"I've got a better idea, Sivvers.  Why don't we just teleport on over to the Emerald Isle..."

"And run away before the peep finds out about the permanently open time vortex in the kitchen?" Seville interrupted.

"No," and Nissy looked pointedly at his brother.  "I was gonna suggest that we teleport on over and grab some REAL four-leaved clovers.  Ones that might actually be lucky.  I've heard that leprechauns grow them by the millions.  Shouldn't be too difficult to find a few there."

"I don't know," Seville hesitated.  "The peep said we weren't to do any more teleporting after the trouble we caused in Ottawa at the Worldwide Weather Offices, Forecasting and Control, Canadian Division."

"Seville, you've permanently glued open a time vortex in our kitchen!" and Nissy slapped a paw on the table.  "A little teleporting is nothin' compared to that.  Trust me.  SIVVERS, PREPARE THE TELEPORTATION DEVICE."

Moments later, the two cats were hurtling through space and time on their way to a heavily leprechaun-infested area of Ireland.  Thinking ahead, Nissy grabbed some gold coins to cover any tariffs the leprechauns might demand as he was well aware that leprechauns are notoriously anti free trade.

After a surprisingly smooth landing, Nissy and Seville hopped out of the frying pan teleporter and onto a lawn of lush green grass.  Seville nosed about in the grass hoping to find a clover or two but, unfortunately, he found nothing but grass.  Nerissa grabbed a paw full of the stuff and started chewing. "That last mug of nip beer gave me the munchies," he explained to his brother.

"Where do we find the clover?" Seville asked.

"Let's ask around in that pub over there," suggested Nissy.  "Someone is bound to know about the clover farms, there."

The two cats approached the pub with trepidation.  Talking about leprechauns was one thing. Talking about meeting leprechauns was another.  Actually meeting a leprechaun was something neither Nissy nor Seville had ever done before and the thought was making the pads of Nissy's paws sweat.

The pub door closed behind them.  "Perfectly normal pub," Nissy muttered sarcastically.  He glanced around, seeing groups of leprechauns gathered here and there, sipping beer and doing jigs.

A fairy darted past Nissy's head, sprinkling fairy dust over him.  "Hey!  Watch it with that stuff," and Nissy shook himself violently while Seville took a swipe at the fairy, narrowly missing a wing. "Don't annoy the fairies, Sivvers," Nerissa told his brother.  "Not a good idea."

Nerissa boldly walked up to the bar and ordered two nip beers.  Paying for the beer with a gold coin, he asked in a low voice, "We're looking for four-leaved clovers.  Anyone here who might be able to help us out?"

The fairy was back, hovering by Nissy's ear.  "I can take you to a clover farm, if you like.  But you'll have to tell the orange cat to keep his claws to himself."

"Deal!" squealed Nissy with delight. "Hear that, Sivvers?  We'll get you those clovers in no time."  Turning back to the fairy, Nissy quickly explained the situation and why the cats were in dire need of the four-leaved clovers.

Suddenly and out of nowhere, a vortex of some sort opened in the corner of the room.  "The clover field managed my Sean and Seamus O'Reilly is on the other side," explained the fairy.  "Follow me."

"How did you do that?" asked Nissy, suspiciously.  "How did you open a vortex without an egg beater or whisk in sight?"

"They use magic," hissed a nearby leprechaun.  "Don't question their means.  Just do what she says and you'll be fine."

Nissy briefly wondered if the vortex was some sort of trick but desperate times called for desperate measures and the cats were pretty desperate for a paw full of four-leaved clovers.  He watched the fairy disappear into the vortex, grabbed Seville by the tail and together, they followed her through.

The other side of the vortex proved to be a beautiful, sunny lawn.  Small white, daisy-like flowers were growing here and there and although quite pretty, there wasn't a farm in sight.  Nissy questioned the fairy about the clover farm.

"Take a closer look at the grass," the fairy suggested.  "You'll find what you're looking for, there."

The boys nosed about in the grass and, sure enough, there were clovers everywhere.  The lawn was the farm, Nissy realised and what a clover farm it was.  A very high percentage of the clovers growing there were of the four-leaved variety.

"Fill your boots!" Nissy exclaimed to his brother.  "Start pickin' clover."

"But I don't have any boots," Seville sadly replied.  "I never wear the things."

"It's just an expression, Sivvers.  Oohhh...  but you can fill that hat with clover.  Just pick the four-leaved ones and put 'em in your hat for transport.  You start picking and I'll go make a deal with those two approaching leprechauns.  They must be the O'Reilly brothers."

Nissy worked out a deal to trade the gold coins he and Seville had brought with them for two hats worth of four-leaved clovers.  The fairy acted as a witness to the deal, making sure everything was in order.  Nerissa headed back to Seville and grabbed a paw full of grass to munch upon while his brother finished collecting the required clovers.

"Isn't this a whole lot easier than workin' with super glue?" Nissy asked Seville.

"Much easier," Seville answered with a smile.  "Especially for you," and he looked over at Nerissa preparing to take a nap on the sunny lawn while he continued searching for clovers sporting four leaves.

A short while later, the boys had all the four-leaved clovers they could possibly want and the fairy offered to escort them back through the vortex so that they could retrieve their teleportation device and return home.  They left Sean and Seamus behind, happily dancing jigs and counting gold coins.

"Never caught your name," Nissy said to the fairy.  "What did you say it was?"

"I didn't," replied the fairy with a smile.  "A fairy very rarely reveals her name," and with that, she disappeared, leaving behind a cloud of sparkling dust.

"MOUSES!" Nissy cried.  "She's gone and I was just about to ask her if she knew how to close that open time vortex in our kitchen.  Oh well, you'll have to figure out that one, Sivvers, but I'll help you clean up the mess with the glue when we get back home."

"Thanks, Nissy.  I'd appreciate that. Maybe you can help me get rid of this marker glued to my butt, too.  I just know the peep is gonna notice that and know I was workin' with super glue."

"That one is on you, Sivvers...   literally.  But I will help you clean up the rest of the mess.  Consider it my St. Patrick's Day gift to you."

The two cats climbed back into their teleportation device for the trip home and as they soared over the Emerald Isle they cried out, "HAPPY ST. PATRICK'S DAY!" to everyone in sight.

ummm... does he teleport?

I had big plans for today's post.  BIG plans.  HUGE plans, in fact.  But my plans were thwarted by my inability to find the necessary information. MOUSES!

I dug around the Internet until the pads of paws were raw.  That's right.  I dug and I dug and I dug but found nothin'...  I repeat, NOTHIN' for which I was lookin'. Again I say...  MOUSES!

So I sat back on my haunches and thought for a bit.  Hmmm...  "I know!" cried I.  "Let me see..."  A little digging later and  I had my post.

Have you ever heard of the Rick Mercer Report?  It's an excellent show, for sure.  Anywho...  not that long ago, Mr. Mercer was talkin' about the travel expenses of the Right Honourable Stephen Harper...  Canada's Prime Minister.  I clearly remember bein' on the couch next to Peep #1 and gettin' my tummy rubbed while hearin' this Mercer dude talk about the numbers in certain expense reports.  To be honest, I'm not sure how current the reports were.  The show might have been a repeat or somethin' but nevertheless, IT WAS A LEAD!

As you know, as a cat, I am an expert digger.  I dig in the litter box every day.  Usually, multiple times.  In the summer, I sometimes dig in the garden, too.  Yes, my friends, the diggin' of dirt is a skill I have mastered over and over and over again.  Didn't take me long to find those travel expense reports at all.*

Anywho...  I discovered a very interestin' fact about our Prime Minister.  Accordin' to his travel and hospitality expense reports,** Stephen Harper is able to travel all over the world, really cheaply.  And when I say cheep, I mean CHEAP.  He managed to travel to Canada's west coast, east coast, the northern territories and even take a little jaunt over to Saint Petersburg, Russia for just over thirty-five hundred dollars.  And that's not thirty-five hundred dollars for each trip.  I'm talkin' thirty-five hundred dollars, total.  Actually, it was less than three thousand 'cause almost six hundred dollars of that was for his wife to travel to Calgary with him and there were a couple ninety dollar visas thrown in there.  He sure must have one super-duper travel agent.  MOUSES!

I don't know anyone who can take a trip to Russia for ninety dollars but our Prime Minister did. Oddly enough, that ninety dollar price tag is the very same amount as what those visas to Peru and Malaysia cost but the expense report doesn't say anything about a visa for Russia.  It specifically says, that he "travels to Saint Petersburg, Russia, for the G20 Summit."**  Travels to...  visa... not the same thing.  MOUSES!

I poured over and over and over the expense report and one single question kept poppin' into my mind.  You see, the answer to this question of mine could possibly make everything I was reading, make sense.  It's the only thing that could.  Finally I stopped asking myself, and just asked it out loud, "Ummm...  does he teleport?"  It was the only workin' theory I had.

Teleportation is relatively cheap.  For the price of a frying pan and some egg beaters, you can pretty much teleport anywhere.  Personally, I do it all the time.

The thing is, to my knowledge, the Canadian government does not yet have access to egg beater teleportation technology.  My brother Seville and I are the leading experts in the field and neither one of us has ever been consulted by anyone in Ottawa.  MOUSES!

Of course, one must also account for the cost of snacks.  I have learned from past teleportation experiences that one should always teleport with snacks.  Apparently, however, the Prime Minister has not yet learned about the necessity of snacking while teleporting because in his travel and hospitality expenses report, there were no reported snacks.  Again I say...  MOUSES!

On the other paw, in 2013 the Prime Minister's Office racked up an almost twenty-five thousand dollar bill for...  ummm...  snacks.***  Okay, there were some lunch meetings in there.  Quite a few lunches, in fact.  But there was also an awful lot spent on coffee, tea and soft drinks.  In other words, snacks.  Not a single mention of the nip, though.  Don't know how they survived without it. That would not be an office for me.

The Prime Minister's Office also filed an 2013 expense report for other expenses while takin' trips.****  Just over thirteen thousand was spent on rentin' buses and visas for staff and whatnot.  I'm not sure why buses were rented.  Don't know why they didn't all teleport with the PM.  Maybe they didn't have enough fryin' pans...

While diggin' around in those reports, I found a few...  shall we say...  discrepancies.  For example, in June of 2013, just over fifty-seven hundred dollars was spent so that MP David Tilson could accompany the Prime Minister to the United Kingdom and France.****  What was odd about this expense?  Well, the report specifically said that David Tilson was accompanying the Prime Minister but in the Prime Minister's travel expense report,* there were no recorded expenses for that trip.  Stephen Harper had no travel expenses for the month of June at all.  Clearly, he is usin' egg beater teleportation technology.  It's the only way to explain a cost-free trip to Europe.

But because of this discrepancy, I started diggin' for more. Completely at random, I chose the travel and hospitality expenses report of the then Executive Assistant to the Prime Minister, Jeremy Hunt.*****  In eight months, Mr. Hunt racked up almost seven thousand dollars worth of travel expenses along with another thousand or so for those ever-so-useful snacks.

I wasn't all that interested in the actual cost of the trips.  Or of the snacks.  I was far more interested in the number of trips Mr. Hunt took with the Prime Minister that the Prime Minister apparently didn't take.  From January to August of 2013, inclusive, Jeremy Hunt logged expenses for seventeen trips in which he travelled with the Prime Minister however, during that very same time period, the Prime Minister claimed travel expenses for only six trips.  MOUSES!

Either he was with the Prime Minister or he wasn't with the Prime Minister.  Both reports cannot be entirely factual.  Somethin' has been added or somethin' is missin' but most definitely, somethin' is wrong!

I went back to that June trip to the United Kingdom and France.  Sure enough, Jeremy Hunt claimed just over five hundred dollars.  I know...  the five hundred dollar amount isn't realistic for traditional travel but is actually somewhat overpriced if using egg beater teleporation technology but I digress. The amount doesn't matter.  What matters is that Jeremy Hunt claims to have travelled with the Prime Minister.  The Prime Minister's Office also, during that exact same time frame, shows expenses for MP David Tilson to travel with the Prime Minister.  But the Prime Minister's report shows no record of expenses at all.  Again I say...  MOUSES!

If peeps out there are travelin' with the Prime Minister, the Prime Minister should have expenses for that travelin'.

Now to be fair, there is a disclaimer on all of these expense reports.  It says that stuff that would be withheld under the Access to Information or Privacy Acts doesn't appear on 'em.  Perhaps those trips the Prime Minister took were top secret or somethin' and that information couldn't be released. On the other paw, if that was the case, the peeps travelin' with him shouldn't have gone and told everybody that they had been travelling with him.  Know what I mean?

But back to the discrepancies.  On those reports, some of the dates are kind of screwy.  For example, the Prime Minister travelled to Toronto for a government event on March 28th.*  Jeremy Hunt accompanied the Prime Minister to Toronto on March 24th and 25th.*****  Hmmm...  they both took a government aircraft.  Mr. Hunt's report says he accompanied the PM so surely it was the same government aircraft.  After all, that's kind of what accompanying means.  It looks to me like there's a discrepancy in the dates.  MOUSES!

The only explanation I have for these discrepancies with the dates is that someone has been messin' with whisks and the element of time travel has been added into the mix.  Perhaps the front end of the government aircraft arrived in Toronto three days earlier than the back end?  Whisks could do that.  It would explain a lot.  It could, in fact, explain it all.


Well, my friends...  I've done the math and the math has done me in.  It's not makin' a lot of sense to me.  Maybe some of you can make it make sense?  Maybe the Prime Minister's Office can make it all make sense.  I don't know. What I do know is that the more I dig through the numbers, the more likely it appears that our elected officials here in Canada are usin' egg beater-whisk time travelling-teleportation technology.  You just know you wanna agree.


*  Government of Canada Disclosure Travel and Hospitality Expenses Reports
**  Prime Minister of Canada's 2013 Travel and Hospitality Expenses Report
*** Prime Minister's Office 2013 Other Expenses
**** Prime Minister's Office 2013 Other Expenses During Trips
***** Executive Assistant to PM's 2013 Travel and Hospitality Expenses Report

should have used a whisk

Previously on Nerissa's Life...  Nissy returned to filling out the forms. "One down, nine hundred and ninety-nine to go," he muttered. "MOUSES!"

Nissy threw down his pen triumphantly and cried, "Done! Gosh that was a lot of forms but we did it, Seville. We filled 'em all out.  Now we can go meet those little control freaks next door."

"Doubt they like bein' called control freaks," Seville told his brother.  "I know I sure wouldn't."

"Well I'm just repeatin' what Weatherby called 'em and besides, their job is to control the weather. The word control is bound to come up.  Come on...  let's go find Weatherby and have him introduce us to the freaks next door."

Nerissa and Seville looked high and low for Weatherby.  They looked under desks and up in cupboards but couldn't find a trace of the man.  Nissy even climbed a couple of trees growing in the Worldwide Weather Offices, just in case Weatherby was hiding in one of them but there was no sign of the elusive man, anywhere.

"Come on Sivvers," decided Nissy, "we'll go next door on our own.  We don't need that Weatherby character to show us the way.  This is just typical governmental bureaucracy.  When you need someone to help you, they're never around."

The two cats made their way down the hall, stopping before large glass double doors.  Printed on the glass was, WWO CONTROL.  "This must be the place," Nissy thought aloud and as he stepped closer, the doors swung open.

They were almost knocked over by a blast of hot air, emanating from the office and the snow just outside the office doors began to melt.  "ALOHA!" cried a man from inside.  He was dressed in clothes one would wear to a beach and Nissy thought for sure he must be heading off on vacation. "Come on in!" and the cats were invited to join the man for drinks and a little something to eat.

Nissy looked longingly at the burgers before him.  "You have snacks?  Those aren't veggie burgers, are they?" he asked suspiciously.

"Mmmm...  no...  they're deli...  delicious," Seville informed his brother between bites.  "Taste different from regular burgers though.  Mmmm...  Think they might be made with pork or somethin'," and he wiped some ketchup from his chin.  "Have some, Niss.  You'll love them."

"Er-hrm...  first things first.  I'm Nerissa and this is my brother, Seville.  We're here about the ridiculously unpredictable weather in Nova Scotia and my inability to build a snowcat.  And your name is...?"

"My, aren't you a serious little kitty.  Name is Torin Weatherby.  You can call me Tori.  Everyone does.  I'm the Chief Weather Controlling Officer.  That's me," he preened, "CWCO Tori Weatherby."


"Hmmm...  isn't Tori a girls' name," Nissy asked.  "Uhhh...  actually, never mind," he decided, thinking about his own name and the fact that he was a mancat.  "You related to William Weatherby next door?"


"We're brothers," and Tori slurped down the rest of his drink.  "So you think you need some snow in Nova Scotia this winter and you came here to ask for it? You came here?  Why here?"

"These are the Worldwide Weather Offices, Forecasting and Control, Canadian Division.  Where else would we go?"

Torin ignored Nerissa's question, entirely.  "Want, want, want...  Everybody wants something from Ottawa.  They want this and they want that.  Everyone can't get what they want.  Everyone can't have winter weather.  There's only so much winter weather to go around!  If we gave everybody in Canada winter weather, there wouldn't be enough cold air to freeze up the Rideau Canal.  Where would we skate?"

"But...  uh..."  Nissy paused.  "Exactly what are your qualifications for this position, Weatherby?"

Torin Weatherby gave the cats a cold, icy stare.  Icy enough to freeze all of Canada in once glance. "I told you, William is my brother.  I have friends in high places, you know.  You might want to watch your step."  Then he suddenly smiled and said, "Look, we're all friends here.  No reason for us to argue.  Truth is, I'm on my way to have some fun in the sun.  I seriously need a vacation. Christmas holidays were so long ago."

"But that was only a month..." Nissy began.  "Never mind.  You go on your holiday and tell me who will be left in charge while you're away."

"No one really," yawned Tori.  "The weather scientists, I suppose.  I'm off.  See you in March!" and with that, Torin Weatherby disappeared out the door.

The two cats stared at one another, not knowing how to respond.  Seville grabbed another burger from the BBQ while Nissy wandered over to a corner of the office seemingly unaffected by the heat suffocating the rest of the room.  He began to inspect the piles upon piles of textbooks and manuals lying before him.  "Hey Sivvers!  These are all books on controlling the weather.  With that Tori character gone, you and I can figure out how to direct some proper winter weather to Nova Scotia."

Nerissa and Seville spent the next few hours pouring over the various manuals and taking a break every now and then to snack on a burger or two.  The weather controlling business didn't appear to be all that difficult.  All they needed to do was follow the instructions.  Nissy couldn't understand why Torin Weatherby had been unable to provide Nova Scotia with winter weather, himself.

"And who do we have here?" asked a man wearing a white lab coat who had suddenly appeared before them.  "Cats trying to control the weather?  Yes?"

"Are you one of the scientists?" asked Nissy.  "So pleased to meet you," and he extended a paw to shake the man's hand.  "I'm Nerissa the Cat and this is my brother Seville."

"Ah yes...  I have heard about you.  Weatherby mentioned you were here."

Nissy didn't bother to ask which Weatherby had mentioned their arrival.  "Anywho...  I think I've figured it out.  Figured out how to make it snow in Nova Scotia and skip the rain until...  well... spring."

"Well, well, well...  aren't you a clever kitty," said the man whose name tag read, Professor Weatherby.  "I do know what I'm doing, you know.  There were other scientists before me who thought they understood the weather but...  well...  we got rid of them.  They kept finding the wrong results."

"Finding the wrong..." began Nissy.  "Never mind.  Let's just get this show on the road, shall we? Now Professor Weatherby, if you take this chemical and then add these two and then some of this red stuff.  What is this anyway?  Is this tape?  Never mind.  Then we need to heat it up.  You have any Bunsen Burners around?"

"No, we don't use those," explained Weatherby.  "Due to government cutbacks, we just burn these when heat is necessary," and he tossed several crumpled up papers into what looked like another BBQ.  Nissy peered at the papers before Weatherby tossed in a lit match.  They looked familiar. Sure enough, they were some of the many forms he and Seville had filled out earlier.  Nice to know they were being put to good use.

Professor Weatherby followed Nerissa's instructions to the letter and before long, sparks started to fly.  Not from the BBQ but rather, from space and time itself.  There was a bolt of lightening and then another, followed by more sparks.  The glass doors to the office violently flew open and the cold air from the hall filled the entire room.  The sandy area where Tori Weatherby had entertained them with burgers and fancy drinks a few hours earlier, frosted over and snow began to fall from newly formed storm clouds.  Something was definitely working...  or not.  Nissy wasn't quite sure.

"Take that!" a familiar voice cried and the two MPs the cats had seen earlier came running through the offices, still throwing snowballs at one another.  Nissy surmised this must be part of their daily ritual.  "This will teach you for voting against my bill!"

Suddenly there was a bright flash of light and then complete darkness. When the emergency lights came on, Professor Weatherby was nowhere to be seen.  He had vanished into thin air. The cats were alone in an icy cold, snow-filled office.  Little flashes of light began to appear before them again. One of the MPs ran past.  A few snowballs flew by.

"Hmmm...  Sivvers?  I think that uh... um...  that you and I should teleport on home now.  Our work here appears to be done and I have a sneakin' suspicion I screwed up the space time continuum with that flask of stuff I had Ol' Professor Weatherby brew up.  Didn't like the way he was sloshin' it about and stuff.  He should have used a whisk.  We should probably head on back while we still can. Let's just hope there's some Nova Scotian snow for us when we arrive home."

"I know!  We can build a couple of snowcats and then, after that, we'll build a snow Weatherby!  That should be fun, huh?  Come on...  let's get out of here while the goin' is still good," and the cats quickly teleported out of Ottawa and back to Nova Scotia, leaving the mayhem they had caused behind them.

winter wonderland... NOT!

"Not again.  MOUSES!" Nissy cried as he turned away from the window and stomped across the kitchen floor.  "I'm gonna have to do somethin' about that weatherman.  HE'S DOIN' IT ALL WRONG!"

"What's up, Nissy?" asked Seville. "What has got your fur all ruffled this time?"

"Have you been outside?  I was gonna go out and play in the snow but just look at it out there!  The snow is all meltin' and it's startin' to rain again.  I was all ready for a little fun time.  Fun in the sun...  and the snow.  A winter wonderland kind of fun.  Thought I might make a snowcat or somethin'.  Can't make a snowcat out of rain," Nissy grumbled.

Seville glanced outside.  "Think spring might be on its way.  That means primroses and daffodils and sunpuddles.  All good stuff, Niss."

Nissy let out a loud sigh of exasperation.  "It's only January, Seville.  We still have all of February and most of March to go before spring.  Just look at the calendar," and he pointed up at the wall. "See?  Another six weeks of winter at least."

"Seville," and Nerissa stretched out a paw to touch his marmalade brother on the shoulder, "there's only one thing for it.  You and I are gonna head on over to the Worldwide Weather Offices and have a little chat with whomever is in charge over there.  Those weather peeps have got some explainin' to do, for sure.  Now, where did I put that card..."  Nissy started rifling through the various business cards stuck to the refrigerator with magnets.

"Got it!" Nissy cried exuberantly.  "Worldwide Weather Offices, Forecasting and Control, Canadian Division.  I just knew this would come in handy sometime.  Come on Sivvers, you and I are goin' to Ottawa.  SIVVERS!  Prepare the teleportation device.  Here are the necessary co-ordinates," and he thrust the business card into Seville's paw.

"Okay...  if you insist.  Nissy, grab an egg beater and hop in the pan and this time," suggested Seville, "let's bring along some snacks."

"Good thinkin'," and Nissy grabbed a couple of burgers that happened to have been left out on the counter, hoping against all hope, they weren't veggie burgers meant for the peeps' lunches. Remembering the time he accidentally bit into a veggie burger by mistake, sent a shiver down his spine and being a cat, Nissy had a very long spine to shiver.

Within seconds the two cats were hovering over Parliament Hill.  Seville made a sharp turn, narrowly avoiding a collision with a Canadian flag.  They landed softly in a snowdrift, just outside a small door which appeared to lead into an obsolete area of one of the Parliament Buildings.

Nissy stood up, brushing some snow off himself and giving his tail a shake.  He tossed the disgusting veggie burger over his shoulder and quietly vowed to never again steal a burger from either of his peeps.  He looked around at the white landscape.  "I see they have plenty of snow here," he muttered to himself.

Approaching the door before him, Nissy paused before turning the knob and pushing it open.  A gust of cold air hit him in the face, causing him to wince and turn away just in time to see a snowball soar past his head and hit Seville in the face.  "This is the place," Nissy proclaimed.  "I've heard about there bein' snow and whatnot inside the Worldwide Weather Offices.  Weird stuff but you know... Canadian weather is known to be weird."

The two cats entered the room which appeared far larger on the inside than they had expected it to be.  There were trees growing inside the offices.  Growing right out of the ground.  No plant pots or anything.  And the floor was covered in a layer of snow.  Had Nissy not known better, he would have sworn that they were outside.  He gazed up at the ceiling which had to be at least twenty-five feet high.  Large snowflakes were falling from above.  Catching one on his tongue, it melted.  "Yup, that's snow alright," he decided.  Floating above their heads, were clouds.  Some were white and fluffy while others were dark and ominous looking.  Nissy wondered if a storm might be brewing.

Movement caught Nissy's eye and he looked over at an open door just in time to see a man running past it and down the hall.  "Take that!" cried a second man, throwing a particularly large snowball at the first.

Seville looked at his brother, questioningly.  "Uhhh...  Niss...  Were those two men Senators?" he asked.

"No...  No...  No, I'm pretty sure they were both MPs.  One of 'em might even be a Cabinet Minister or somethin'.  He looks kind of familiar.  MOUSES!  No wonder our country has got political problems."

It wasn't long before a little man carrying a stack of books appeared before the cats.  "And how may I help you?" he asked.  "Don't see many cats around here these days.  There used to be lots of cats in these here parts but not so many now.  Nice to meet you.  My name is Weatherby.  William Weatherby at your service," and he extended a hand to shake the cats' paws.

"Hey there.  I'm Nerissa and this is my brother, Seville.  We're here about the weather."

"Well of course!" exclaimed Weatherby.  "Why else would you come to the Worldwide Weather Offices, Forecasting and Control, Canadian Division?"

Nissy took Weatherby aside and explained to him the issues he was facing regarding the weather and his inability to build a snowcat.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk...  You experienced sub-zero temperatures, icy conditions, a blizzard, clear weather, snow, rain, snow, more rain and more snow all within a week?  My, my, my...   That is strange. Very strange, indeed.  Even for Canada," Weatherby said to Nissy.   "And this was all just last week?  In January?  Hmmm...."

"It was and the day after the blizzard, the peep dug out paths for me in the snow.  They were like castle walls.  Over a foot high, they were," Nissy explained to Weatherby.  "Such fun sneaking around in those paths but then the very next day, the rain came along and turned my castle walls into ruins.  Not so great, if you know what I mean."

"May I ask if this odd weather had been forecast?" asked Weatherby.

Seville stepped up beside Nerissa, ducking another flying snowball thrown by one of the two MPs running past the open door again, this time in the opposite direction.  "Yes Mr. Weatherby, the weird weather was forecast.  I heard our peeps talking about the odd weather after listening to it on the news."

"Well then," considered Weatherby, "clearly this is a problem with control and not forecasting. Controlling the weather is governed by a sub-committee.  It's a Parliamentary sub-committee of a subcommittee of one of the many sub-committees.  Their offices are just next door but before you can even speak to any of those little control freaks, you'll need to fill out a few forms."  Weatherby snapped his fingers and two young assistants appeared, each pushing a cart through the snow on the floor.  The carts were heavily laden with five foot high stacks of forms.  Weatherby introduced the cats to Jack and Jill Frost, his two office assistants.  "Start filling out these forms," he instructed the cats, "while I go get you the rest of them.   And some tape.  After you fill out all the forms, we'll stick them together with some red tape."

Nissy and Seville looked up at the stacks of forms.  They looked way, way up.  "We have to fill out all of these forms?" they asked in unison.

"Of course," answered Weatherby.  "What did you expect?  This is Ottawa."

At that moment, one of the dark, ominous-looking clouds that Nissy had noticed when they had first entered the Worldwide Weather Offices, let loose with a heavy downpour of rain.

"MOUSES!" Nissy cried and several dozen mice appeared, dragging large umbrellas for the cats to use.  Nissy and Seville each popped open an umbrella and started filling out the dozens upon dozens of forms that lay before them.

"I'll go get you the rest," Weatherby told them.  "Be back in a jiff!" and with that, he disappeared into the hall where, the snow appeared to still be falling and even more heavily than before.

Weatherby slipped on some ice.  The two MPs were still running back and forth through the halls, throwing snowballs and tripped over Weatherby. A snowball rolled into the room, stopping by Nerissa's right-hind paw. Nissy looked down at the snowball and then over at the men and glared.  All three jumped up before scurrying away.

Nissy returned to filling out the forms.  One down, nine hundred and ninety-nine to go," he muttered. "MOUSES!"


Be sure to return on Sunday February 2nd, for part two of the cats' adventure.  Stay tuned...

the past, the present and the pumpkin pie

"PEEPERS...  prepare the teleportation device!"  Hmmm...  on second thought, scratch that.  This will be an adventure about which the peep need never know.  Never, never...  not ever.

"SIVVERS...  prepare the teleportation device!"

"On it, Nissy.  We're almost ready for teleportation.  I'm just making the final adjustments to the whisks now.  Plymouth, Massachusetts, 1621.  That the right date?"

"Not quite, Seville.  I did some research on the subject and the pumpkin pies that were eaten at the very first American Thanksgiving were nothin' like the pumpkin pies that peeps eat today.  There was no crust or anything.  Can you believe it?  MOUSES!  We need to head back to the 1700s or so.  Any time before 1796 will do."

"Why 1796?" asked Seville.  "You pick that date out of a hat or something?"

"I told you, I did research.  I found a page from an old cookbook that contained a recipe for pumpkin pie.  One with a crust and everything.  That book was published in 1796 so we need to go back in time before then.  A few years before then would be great.  Aim for 1790 or so.  That should give us plenty of time."

Nissy shoved the page from the cookbook into Seville's paw.  "Here, you'll need this.  It should help with the locational co-ordinates.  Make sure we teleport to the right place."


"On it, bro.  Let me see...  Yup, yup...  yup, this'll work.  I'll squish the paper into the egg beater right about here.  Done."

"Excellent work, Seville."  Nissy snatched two bags from the kitchen floor and placed them carefully into the frying pan before climbing in, himself.  "Come on Seville.  Time's a wastin'!"

Seville began to rev up the egg beaters.  "Grab a whisk, Nissy and start whisking."

The kitchen lights flickered momentarily before everything went dark.  Suddenly, bright explosions of light flashed before the cats' eyes.  The small perpetual calendar Seville had attached to the frying pan dashboard started to spin wildly.  2013...  2001...  1978...  1902...  1841... 

Over the sound of  howling wind, Seville cried out to Nissy, "YOU HAVE CONTROL OVER THAT CALENDAR?  BE READY TO STOP IT AT 1790!"

"GOTTA GO BACK JUST A TAD BEFORE THEN," Nissy hollered back, slamming a paw over the gizmo when it reached 1775.  "ARE WE IN THE RIGHT GEOGRAPHICAL AREA?  IS THIS NEW ENGLAND?  HOLD US STEADY IN THIS TIME WHILE WE FLY OVER THESE FIELDS.  CAN YOU HANDLE IT ON YOUR OWN?"

"GOT IT COVERED, NISSY."

The wind was creating terrible turbulence and the two cats found it difficult to hold onto the edges of the frying pan.  They were being buffeted back and forth between conflicting time lines.  Nissy held onto the pan with his back paws while using his front ones to empty out the contents of the paper bags he had secreted into the teleportation device earlier.  "PLANTING THE NIP SEED NOW," he cried out to Seville.  The nip seed was dispersed over the fields below by the winds of time.  "NOW GET US BACK TO 1790!" he yelled to his brother.  "PUT US IN REVERSE!"

Seville grabbed the frying pan handle and swung it over to his left before yanking it upwards.  The teleportation device came to a screeching halt and the two cats were thrown into the field of catnip that lay before them.  Nissy breathed in deeply.  Ahhh...  the sweet smell of nip.  "The nip seeds grew well," he smiled smugly.

"How did all this nip get here?" asked Seville?  "You just planted it a few seconds ago."

"Au contraire, mon frere," Nissy grinned.  "I planted the seed in 1775.  We're in 1790 now."

Nissy breathed in deeply again.  How he would love to just hang out in this field for a few hours but there were things to be done.  They couldn't afford to get nipped now.  "Come on Sivvers," he said, hauling his brother through the field.  "Part one of my plan is complete.  Now for part two."

The boys trudged through the vast field of nip.  European nip that had now been successfully introduced into the Americas by none other than Nissy, himself.   What an accomplishment for a little sterling silver tabby cat.

Before long, they came upon another field.  One in which pumpkins grew.  Pumpkins that were perfectly sized for using in pies.  Nissy knew then that his plan was going to succeed.  This was clearly pumpkin pie making territory.  All that needed to be done now was to make a few adjustments to the traditional recipe for making those pies.  A few adjustments to the recipe that would one day be published in the cookbook he had found in the local library's archives. 

After walking another half hour or so, they spotted a small house off in the distance.  The boys instinctively knew that this house was their destination.  In this house, the future of pumpkin pie would change forever.

Although near exhaustion, they ran toward the house as quickly as their paws would carry them.  They stopped short at the door.  Nissy knocked, politely.  A woman named Amelia answered but looking only straight ahead, she didn't see the two cats down at her feet.  She glanced both to her right and to her left, never noticing Nerissa and Seville padding softly into the house and hiding behind various pieces of furniture.

Night fell and the woman retired to bed.  Nissy prodded at Seville who had fallen asleep under a large chair.  "Come on Sivvers.  This is our chance.  We've gotta help Amelia with her pies."

Nissy found Amelia's notes for her upcoming cookbook and got to work right away.  "We just need to make a few changes to this recipe," he told his brother.  "Just a few changes here and there before the manuscript is sent off to the publisher."

Grabbing a pen on the writing desk, he began to write.  "Hmmm...  cloves?  Nah, scratch that.  We'll replace the cloves with nip.  Nutmeg?  Nope, don't need that either.  We'll replace that with nip, too.  Cinnamon...  I definitely think that could be replaced with the nip."  Nerissa scratched out the unnecessary ingredients and quickly did some mental calculations as to how much catnip would be needed and wrote it down.    "Okay, we've got pumpkin, eggs, sugar, cream and a cup of nip."

"A cup?  That sure is a lot of nip, Nissy," mentioned Seville.

"Don't worry, Sivvers.  The effects will all cook out...  MOUSES!  We don't want that to happen.  Hmmm...  we had better add another quarter cup of fresh nip to the whipped cream that goes on top," Nissy muttered before finishing his task.  He tucked the recipe back into Amelia's notebook and placed the notebook exactly where he had found it an hour before.

Seville sniffed the air.  "Nissy," he began.  "I'm sure I smell some yummy smells coming from the kitchen.  I think that Amelia lady roasted up a turkey or something.  Do you think we could have a bite or two before heading back to 2013?  A cat doesn't wanna teleport on an empty stomach, if you know what I mean."

"I know exactly what you mean, Seville and you're absolutely right.  Let's go enjoy a little snack.  It's a long walk back to the egg beaters and we need to keep up our strength."

Munching on roasted turkey, the boys thought about all they had accomplished on their adventure.  Nissy knew that if all went as planned, they would return to a new version of the year 2013 where pumpkin pies were filled with cream and catnip and not ruined with all those spices that couldn't possibly equal the brilliance of the world's greatest herb of all time...  nip.  Oh, they had done well on this adventure.  So very, very well.  Thanksgiving dinners would be changed forever but changed for the good.  Most definitely changed for the good.  It would be a very HAPPY THANKSGIVING for everyone.