Thursday, September 20, 2018

Canaries Pawprints & Paint

Mrs Hudson here, and I am joining Brian's Thankful Thursday Hop. This week I am most thankful that Erin and I are safe, and I got the washing done when I did, as high winds and rain have been plaguing not only us here at Upper Much-Mousing, but also many of our blogging pals in America. 

We are grateful, very grateful, that it has not been any worse than it is, and so many folks are doing so much good for those in need, human and companion alike! Our prayers are with you all...

This week we delve into Erin's archives.  Or as I like to to call them, the filing cabinet in the drawing room that seems to house no end of bits and pieces that Erin doesn't know what to do with, that is if she even knows they're there!

 It also houses a family of mice, as well as numerous spiders that have been trying to get space at the church since last year. Alas since the church warden retired they are a bit behind on their cleaning.  

Anyway, enough of spiders and mice, and on to nicer things such as paint and canaries. This weeks post was from 25th February 2015, and not long after Erin moved in. With an eye for decorating, as well as getting her own way, Erin managed to start the long slow process of revitalising the palace colour scheme. She applied so much vigour to the staff at that point, that we even have colour co-ordinated spiders and mice to this day!

Please now join me as we uncover some more of the secrets of decorating, palace style, in this week's story:

Canaries Pawprints & Paint

   After my cheese & cream fueled nightmare last week, of a-smokin' and a flamin' peep, I decided being under a dark bed probably wasn't the best of places to spend a pleasant and peaceful nights nap! Nothing else for it but to move on up and stake a claim for some of the bed!

   As they say, possession is eight-ninths (and the front end of a mouse) of the law, so I did what any self-respecting princess would do, I slept on it! Well, to be more accurate I slept on everything that didn't move, and some things that did like the peep's tummy, and toes! It didn't take long before I'd got peep sorted out with an appropriate sleeping position so that I didn't get squashed or awoken me when the time came to make my breakfast. At the end of the week, I had ended up owning the space under the bed (for mouse practice) the surface of the wool duvet for napping and the airspace above for the jumping onto and off. Peep said that's called a flying freehold, which is just as well as I can't afford to pay for it! Oh, I also retained an option for under the duvet visits in case of localised global warming, or is it global cooling? I must make a note for Miss Description to check on that! Anyways peep gets the space between the duvet and mattress, a reasonable concession I thought, though the peep did rather seem to assume that this was a rite rather than a privilege.

   Moving on up made me realise just how bad the decorating was above floor level. I've slept on enough home style & country living glossy magazines (two or three thick ones are particularly comfy on a cold winters night) to say that interior design and decorating is an art best left to those that have an eye for, erm, interiors design & decorating! Judging by the current scheme, the incumbent was possibly colour blind and also entered some as yet undiscovered expressionist period. And believe me undiscovered is where it should stay!

   Being a princess with more than a degree of taste, admittedly for cream, salmon, and cheese, I resolved to get some class into my bedroom. On further consideration an interior designer was probably better, I've seen what kids turn out at school, and it's not pretty I can tell you!

  Scratching around the bedroom, which plays havoc on the claws, I discovered there were more colours on them there walls than you could wave a swatch at. I found canary yellow (tricky colour to get a hold of on account of it flying about), pale yellow, bright blue, light blue, three shades of green, beige, magnolia and white, though none of the 50 shades of grey that many folks keep talking about. Then there were the layers of wallpaper, but let's not mention that! OK so I've mentioned it but let's not go there, suffice to say it needed to be stuck back down!

   Taking stock, which some also call "rustling", I concluded that this redecoration wasn't going to be easy.

   First I had to pick a colour, something feminine, something Princess-like. I had it in my mind, picture it if you will, black walls with a fetching white motif and whiskers to add that certain you–know–what, a bit like me really. But then maybe not, you can have too much of a good thing, and it would hardly be the uplifting effect I want, no matter how majestic. No, it had to be feminine & subtle and keep the peep happy too. Yup, it had to be PINK!

   Getting your peep to do anything is a bit of a chore. But getting them to think of painting let alone pick pink paint wasn't going to be easy. The best plan, so far as I could see, was to get the old paint looking really tired and distressed and thus ripe for a tidy up. Then and only then I could present the peep with the swatch card and my choice. And of course whilst sorting the paint, I could get the drapes and rugs, and other knickknacks sorted too.

   I had seen some colour swatch cards in with the Power Nap device in the wardrobe, so it didn't take much effort to get the ball rolling, though in my experience sometimes them balls, much like mice, don't want to stop once they've started!

   Now the following day was rainy, so I headed on over to my fave spot under the hedge and settled down on the damp, smelly and muddy undergrowth. On returning home, I didn't stop to wipe my paws, as one should, but headed on up to the bedroom window ledges to begin phase one of the operation. Jumping off a window ledge, textbook fashion, means putting one's paws on the wall under the ledge and pushing off, which I find gives me enough boost to miss peep's tummy and land somewhere safe and frankly less wobbly! After a few minutes of leaping, the walls had taken on a mottled pattern, and certainly one that after drying would be hard to ignore.

    So to phase two, the piece de resistance! It came late that evening when I trotted in with one of my sparrow friends and happily dropped it at peeps feet. Now by prior arrangement with the sparrow, just as peep went to pick it up, it flew off with yours truly in hot pursuit, muddy paws 'n' all, heading for the bedroom!

   Well, I chased that sparrow up, down, and around the bedroom. I even went back downstairs, across the sofa (and peep) and back up and around the bedroom for good measure. The net result, well I'll leave that to your imagination, but I can honestly say that by the time peep caught up with us I thought the makeover was in the bag.

   Now peeps ability not to see things truly amazes me. Whether it was because it was so late at night, I can not say, but the peep really didn't seem to notice! The sparrow was caught and just released from the bathroom. I just got a stern glance and a rebuke for disturbing the neighbours at such a late hour and had my cream privileges withdrawn for a week. With not a mention of the décor disaster, peep went to bed and left me to contemplate my plan's apparent failure.

   The following morning came, as mornings do, and I woke just early enough to make sure I could wake peep to feed me. Alas, as it was Saturday, all my enticements to get up at the usual time of 4.30AM failed, so I tottered on to my reserve bowl of crunchy biscuits and did a little bit of stage setting.

   When peep surfaced, there was sufficient light to see the full extent of the damage from the previous night's romp. I could see the little cogs whirring (though clunking may be a better choice of word for that time of day) in the realisation of the state of things. It was then that I hit the peep. Well, more accurately I let the colour swatch card thingy (with a gentle nudge from me) fall from the dressing table where I sat, onto the peep's foot. Picking it up the peep was immediately drawn to the only colours that didn't have (fresh) paw prints on, namely the pinks and some sickly mustard yellows, by way of contrast you understand.

   Now apparently this struck (no pun intended) a chord, for the peep headed back to bed with the swatch, and a cup of full strength de-caf, to consider options. This action was all very positive, for sure, bar for the fact the peep forgot to feed me! The things you have to suffer for your art, and decorating huh!

   Things progressed, and peep soon got the wallpaper doing what wallpaper should do, namely staying stuck in place. Now I'd like to say at this point that things went well from thereon in. Yes, I'd like to say that, honestly, but in true human fashion, things went awry when the peep went out and bought, yes bought without my approval, some pots of paint.

Now I did offer to go and help. In fact, I jumped in the car, but peep was adamant I needn't worry, and it wasn't going to take long and duly ejected me from the car and headed off.  What the peep came back with later that day, when I wasn't there, was a selection of those small test pots that allow you to try, and I stress "in a discreet/generally unseen area", the colour of your choice. Now, what you're not meant to do is cover the wall as far as possible with every last drop of the pot and then repeat the exercise around the room with every other pot.

   Anyway, when I got home later that afternoon from a mousing outing, I was confronted with a bedroom in various shades of PURPLE! Not subtle pink or even medium pink but bright purple! What was worse, if you can imagine such, was that it wasn't just one shade of purple, no ma'am, it was five shades all in various stages of drying, and each getting darker as I watched!

   Now somewhat surprisingly given the peep had picked the colours, was sat at the end of the bed transfixed by the unfolding scene, and I distinctly heard the words "....that's not what it looks like on the pot!"  I must confess that I was less restrained, and I yowled, and I don't often yowl as it's not princess-like, but with a paw over my eyes, I yowled. I yowled so much in fact that peep, thinking I was sick (and that wasn't far from the truth), dropped the last pot of paint and took me downstairs for some cuddles and cream.

   Well the next day, after a long sleepless and noisy night, and with lesson duly learned, peep headed off once more to the paint shop. Armed this time WITH the colour swatch card thingy, the peep picked up one huge pot of subtle pink paint, or as peep said: "It's not pink, it's a white with a hint of strawberry!"  The peep also got a lovely subtle "strawberry" linen–style blind. Alas, as we have two windows, the less than subtle bright green roller blind that had also been bought was duly banished to the wardrobe with the Power Nap device.

    Now it took three coats of paint over the next three days to cover the various shades of purple. To peep's credit, every last blackcurranty bit of it got covered. Well every last bit, bar an area behind the bedside table which got painted around. Clearly, the old habits die hard, but all in all, I think I was lucky to get the peep to paint that far, and we do now have matching walls (almost) and a singularly single strawberry blind, with a promise of one more to come, in PINK!

   Now the irony is, and despite all my best efforts, with the pictures rehung in the room, in most lights you don't see the pink at all!

   Hmm....maybe purple would've been better after all?

Well, that was all very fun, and very informative too. I am only glad that Erin didn't suggest real strawberries be used!

Till next week, when we will be looking into high tech appliances at the palace, I bid you fare well, and keep on dusting!

Mrs H.

Thursday, September 13, 2018

Catnaps, Cream & Cardboard

Hello, Mrs Hudson here. I hope you have had a great week, and are ready for another delve into Erin's literary archive?

This week I am joining Brian's Thankful Thursday Hop. This week I am thankful because my glass of sherry  is half full, and not empty. Positive thought is really good I have learnt... better still is to remember to put the stopper back in the sherry so it doesn't evaporate so quickly!

Anyway, this week the weather here in Upper Much-Mousing has taken a turn and we are heading into winter, having seemingly missed autumn! I'm guessing Autumn got a cheap last minute flight and holiday in Barbados!

Anyway, I am proud to introduce Erin's fourth post from 15th February 2015. That week Erin seemed to be having some 'computer issues' and was dealing with a few inner and outer demons!

Now it happens to be raining as I type this, so it seems like just the right moment to light the fire, pull up a chair and enjoy a warming cup of cocoa, and settle in to this next look at life for a princess trying to make her way in the blogging world! 

Catnaps, Cream & Cardboard

Being a Cat does sort of exempt me from the financial running of my new home, mainly as I don't get wages or pocket money to buy anything. This, in turn, is based on (a) my near disastrous foray up the Amazon with some spiders and a Pal who Pays (see previous chapter), (b) not having pockets and (c) me not needing money, being a Princess and all, leastways that's what the peep says! So, all in all, I rely on my human staff, the peep, to sort out the essential comestibles, wood, coal, and paper for my lap-pot (that's the paper for the lap-pot and not the wood or coal!) Paper, I hear you say, what paper would that be then? Why this here paper, the paper that I write my blog on of course. Leastways that's what I thought.

   Now soon after finishing the first page of this here blog (or indeed that there blog, dependent on where you're reading this from) I was reviewing the page and pondering the meaning of fish when out popped my blog from this box on my desk. Yep popped right out it did, with a whirring and a squeaking and flashing lights (and I swear a spark too) directly onto my paw! Well, I've got to admit I was somewhat surprised I can tell you, never thinking that in addition to doing my blog being on the web, I would be in print so quickly too. I'd not even sorted out pictures for the back cover let alone a publisher!

   Buoyed by this prompt service, I drafted another page, pawed the ENTER button and sat back to see what would happen. Well, after 36 winks (Mama always taught us to count correctly, in nines) nothing had come from the box on my desk, not a dickybird or even the smallest dickymouse, and I would definitely have noticed a dickymouse, for sure.

  No matter how many times I pawed ENTER, and I did it quite a few, nothing came out of that there little box, not even a squeak. It did strike me at that point that the ENTER key would really be better called the OUT key, given that things should come out when you use it. This I thought is clearly was another matter that Miss Description needed to look at, and maybe if she had time, she could find my missing blog too!

   Sitting back for a moment, it occurred to me that the lap-pot may be clogged up, or worse still, broken! Now as Miss Description wasn't about to drop in for a cream tea anytime soon, something had to be done, or my burgeoning career (not to mention cream ration) would be cut short for sure! Galvanised, and I don't recommend actually doing that to yourself as plays havoc on the fur, I popped open the little draw on the side of the lap pot and managed to claw out the round silvery mug mat that peep insists on leaving in there. A quick peek inside revealed no crumpled paper or heaps of old webs from my surfing, just some neat little lights, a few hairs and some crumbs from my last snack, salmon by the taste of them.

   Duly flummoxed (who I think is a friend of Miss Description) and deflated in spirit as well as girth having now run out of treats, I retired to bed to consider how best to tackle peep about this small broken issue. Thinking back to the duvet incident, I had high hopes that peep would forgive me and see this as serendipity, an opportunity to have a new up to date lap-pot, or maybe even two! Before I knew it, I had drifted off into the land of cream, with forests of cheese sticks and fields of lovely mousse cows.

  I awoke to the sound of supper being prepared and so, much refreshed, I headed to my throne. On returning, I was much surprised to find that the renown gentlecat blogger, Nerissa, Connoisseur a La Nip and now Senate nominee (resident of the beautiful land of 3yr old Mature Canadian Cheddar) had read my blog and sent me a message of support! Well, we exchanged letters, and I happened to mention that my lap-pot had run out of paper. Now would you credit it, Nerissa said his lap-pot had never had any paper in it, at all, ever!

  It was about this time that peep came up to do the daily tweeting, and saw that things were out of sorts, what with the mug mat being out and page of the blog on the table. Now pleading ignorance didn't seem possible given the evidence, so I gave it my best "don't look at me, I'm just a cat without opposable thumbs" look, threw in a coy princess head tilt and a couple of headbutts and waited for peep to come to my rescue. Smiling, the peep filed the mug mat back in the little draw, and then picked up the blog. Glancing at me and then the draft on screen, the peep offered to proofread my new blog, just to check for spelling and grandma errors. Without further ado, he popped the paper INTO the box on my desk and hit the ENTER cum OUT key. Well, Tom's your father the paper was sucked into the box, whirring, squeaking and flashing and all, and then out it popped again (still whirring etc.) with my draft blog on it!

   Well, you can imagine my surprise, after all the worry all the stress the answer was sitting in my paws all along! Nerissa was right too, our lap-pot never did have any paper in it either, mind you with hindsight that would've been just silly, with that mug mat in there it would only have got all damp and dirty!

   Moving on a couple of days, you now find me nestled under the bed. I had just closed my eyes after a heady draft of excellent cream from the local Maison de Mademoiselle Creme, and dreaming of a Big MacFeast I'd planned the following day, when a small rectangular beast slid quickly and quietly in my direction, stopping neatly & menacingly no more than a mouses whisker from my own. Eeek! I thought, the Metric Mouses have come to get me!

  Now a surfeit of cream or cheese can do that to a girl. A surfeit of cream flavoured cheese (or indeed cheese flavoured cream) clearly had, I thought, jumping up just a little too quickly and banging my head, put me not only on-the-edge but many many leaps bounds & whiskers over it! Edge of what, I hear you say. Well, of that I'm not sure, but suffice to say it will have had an edge, for sure, maybe even two.

   It was the bang on the head from the bed slats that put paid to any further thoughts of edges or Creamland, and boy did it make my whiskers droop! Mama taught us kittens 'Composure under fire, Dignity after a fall". So, with that ringing in my sore head, I got out the old C&D and recovered with a quick lick of the paws, face and whiskers and said out loud "Now what's going on here then?"

   Close (but not too close) inspection showed it wasn't a Metric Mouse, but a rather neat box with carrying handle sticking out. The box was marked "As us" on the side, which made me think that there could be more of the same lurking somewhere about my bedroom! Whomsoever the "As us" were, they clearly weren't "As me" a sleek feline princess with honed hunting skills and whiskers like radar, no sir!

   Now I surmised if this "As us" was meant to attack me, it had clearly lost the opportunity for surprise. However, having heard of small peeps hiding in a horse to gain access to some foreign holiday resort, it struck me that whilst this box might not have peeps inside, it might have some clever "As us" or even mices trying to get in or under my bed!

   I clearly now I had the upper paw, and possibly the lower and even the middle paw (after all I do have four paws), so I did what any Princess would do to defend her honour and nap time, I attacked! Out came the claws and in went the paws and a solo game of carpet hockey ensued. It has to be said I played well, despite the weight of the 'As us', and I managed to bat it around the bed legs & under peeps chair for some minutes before the opportunity at goal (the doorway) arose. Lining up a shot, I let rip, and the box, 'As us' and all, sailed through the posts and onto the linoleum floor beyond that leads to the stairs. Clearly trying to make good their escape, the box headed, like the TV series, Due South, or in this instance Due Down, in a spiral staircase sort of direction faster than me after nip! Finding new impetus with every bounce, the box (with me in pursuit) flipped and cartwheeled down the smooth stone treads.

    To say it stopped isn't really true, it sort of disintegrated as it hit the ground floor. And with me landing on top there wasn't really much hope of it staying in one piece or further escape. We had sort of arrived together in a mass of cardboard, tissue paper and various sized pieces of plastic. Popping my head out from under a bit of tissue, I pawed my way through the debris and found no evidence of the 'As us' or indeed mice, but did find a small booklet advising how to 'Quick Start' apparently some sort of fright manual! Things in the debris started to come into focus and pulling at a piece of wire a small keyboard popped out from underneath some packaging. Suddenly it dawned on me Eeek....that plastic wasn't a mouse it was a baby lap-pot, a new baby lap-pot, peep's new baby lap-pot, for sure!

   The door to the lounge burst open, well actually the door exploded off its hinges and fell to the floor in pieces. Peep, all 6'6" & rippling muscles, stomped in towards me, raging red eyes, steam coming out of ears and flames out of the hands! Eeeeeeee is squealed, and closed my eyes and waited for my doom!

   There was a thud, I tensed, but then nothing. I slowly opened my eyes. The room about me was dark save for a small night light in the hall above the stairs. I looked around and realised I was still under the bed and evening had come. I could hear peep downstairs in the kitchen and the sound of supper being made. I was alive, there was no smell of fire or singe marks anywhere, and all was as I left it. A dream, I thought, all a horrible dream! Now there's only one cure for that, I said to myself, and that's supper and a nap, though I may just forgo the cheese mousse!

  Getting up to head for supper, I stretched and immediately bumped into something in the gloom. Closer inspection showed a small box with a handle sticking out, and the name on that box was 'Asus'......

The End.

Well that all worked out rather well, all things considered. Todays lesson from this clearly is that, whilst you can have your cream and eat it, sometimes the after effects are more than just a large waistline!

Tune in next week as we discover the strange case of:-
 Canaries, Pawprints, and Paint!

Till then, cheerio, and keep dusting!!

Thursday, September 6, 2018

Of Ducks and Sheep and Thrones.

Hello, Mrs Hudson here. I hope you have had a great week, and are ready for another delve into Erin's literary archive?

This week I am proud to introduce Erin's third post from 3rd February 2015. That week Erin seemed to be having 'duvet issues' and feathers were quite literally flying!

So please, grab a cup of the best Earl Grey, some scones, and sit back and enjoy the chaos that ensued. All I can add is that I am glad I wasn't the housekeeper at that time!

I am proud to be able to share with you Erin's adventures, and to have the time away from doing the cleaning and gardening to use the computer. Thank you Brian!

Of Ducks & Sheep & Thrones

   Well two pages, and many cream teams into this blog, I find that this is way more taxing an exercise than I expected! I hasten to add that by diet I mean the cream minus the tea.

    Back to the story. Being all tuckered out from the blogging, I needed a nap, fast. Now having heard peep talk of things called power naps (which seemed just the ticket for a new & tired blogger cat) I set off around the rooms in search. I reasoned a power nap device should be easy to spot by virtue of (1) having a power lead attachment, and (2) something to nap on attached to the power attachment. Well, after a short foray in the bedroom I spotted (if the wire and the woolly texture was anything to go by) my power nap device. Yep, there it was, in glorious two tone pastel pink, and blue, nestled folded up in a cat napping sized shelf in the wardrobe.

   Never one to hold back on trying new napping technology, in I went for my well earned power nap. Well, five minutes of tossing and turning on a lumpy thin mat, and being knotted up in lots of little cords is not my idea of a nap. And it was not in the least energising. Frankly, if that's how peeps get a power nap then I'm surprised you get any work done, let alone naps!      

   Now having extracted myself from the strings I took to the bed in search of an "un-powered" nap. I was oblivious to the fact that today being cleaning day, peep had removed the duvet cover and the throw that resides on my half of bed. I closed my eyes and started to knead my way into a nice comfy spot in the sun. Now my claws being nice and sharp found little resistance in the old and now bare duvet . So I went on kneading and turning in a sort of blind ecstasy (am I allowed to say that in a family blog?) until happy in myself, I gracefully dropped down. Now it was at this point I started to sneeze, and each time my nose seemed to be getting more irritated. I opened my eyes to see what can only describe as the scene of some poor pigeons demise. All it lacked was the pigeon and the demise bit. What it did have was plenty of the feathery stuff.

   "Eeeek! I said to myself, this really doesn't look good. There was clearly no way of extracting myself from this incident without embarrassment, or at least part of the blame! Though as peep had removed the duvet cover and throw, I didn't feel entirely responsible! As things worked out, peep walked in just as I weighing my exit strategy. Now, had I been a Calico or one of the those fluff-boys I may well have got away with the feathers stuck to me being overlooked. Alas, being a Tux, I was pretty much holding the smoking toaster as it were (this being a family blog and all we don't mention guns). Now peep looked at me and then the duvet and did a funny thing, the peep laughed. Not given to much laughter is my peep, but the peep actually chuckled then laughed. Then, without due regard for my fur, petted me on the head and went and fetched the vacuum cleaner.

   This is a bit strange, I thought to myself. I expected at least mutterings and utterances of being sent to Battersea Dogs Home! But no, not so much as a bark or a curse. In fact all seemed well. Now there was a chance I was dreaming this all, so I felt my brow and even gave myself a nip and I was neither fevered or asleep. Peep also looked well. Although to be on safe side I gave the peep a nip for good measure too. Judging by the reaction, neither of us were dreaming.

   Still much confused by his reaction, I headed to the kitchen to await my supper. On arrival I couldn't help but notice a large bag residing on my throne, yep actually ON MY THRONE. Now I must explain at this point that I had, on moving in, laid claim to a throne. Peep called it a stool, it is however clearly a throne. A throne made of wood with a padded gold and royal orange insert in the middle. Here I sit daily to await my breakfast and supper to be served. Also I will sit here any other time of the day when there's half a chance of some treats from the kitchen. Well today my throne had clearly been usurped by a bag. A big overstuffed bag, looking very much like a very fat wood pigeon. The audacity of it I thought, as I did the only thing a self respecting Princess could do, I jumped on it!

   Now in hindsight, and to be fair, most things don't look good from the hind. Jumping on it wasn't such a good idea as the bag the stool and I bounced, clattered and tumbled across the floor. Eeeek... I thought, two messes in one day really was chancing my paw and bound to get peep upset, for sure. I could see no option but to flee the scene & plead ignorance at another time. So out the flap I went, pretty sharpish I can tell you, like a cat about to be scalded or is it scolded? well at the very least scowled at!

   Now on my return, all seemed well, the offending bag had been removed and the stool righted and my supper in place. Clearly peep had seen the injustice and un-usurped the usurper leaving me to my throne. Yep, the peep may at times be slow, but does get there in the end. So, duly fed I headed for my "post supper" and a pre "main nap" nap. To my horror found aforesaid bag on my bed! Yep, this bag had clearly an intent to take over my bed space after failing to take the throne! I wasn't about to take it lying down! No Sir, I'm a cat of action (between naps) and I did what every self respecting Princess would do, I leapt at it, again, this time with claws out to avoid any slippage.

   Now at some point in my flight, and picture this in slow motion if you will, I noticed that the bag was empty. Not only that, but spread neatly on the bottom of the bed was a brand new (and clean) duvet. Eeeek... I thought (well more Eeeeeeeeeeek in slow motion), and I did the feline equivalent of handbrake turn in midair, and dropped on the bed. Hmm... I thought once more as I walked towards the duvet, this is all a bit new and different. And dare I say it, pricey too. Peeps clearly can't be well as has spent some money. Checking my paws and stowing my claws, I took those first tentative steps onto the fresh cotton. Oh it was so cool and smooth and looked just like a fresh fall of snow that hadn't any of those tell tale paw prints across it.

   I fell in love there and then and started to knead myself in for a well earned and much needed nap. I just couldn't help myself, it really just happened on instinct. Fearing the worst, I looked down and all I saw were some neat small holes in the fabric, but no feathers! Strange that, usually there's feathers in these things! Being the inquiring sort of girl that I am, I padded over to the bag, and saw that it said "Sheep Wool Duvet". Hmm... duvets made of sheep? clearly peeps is after counting himself to sheep, sorry to sleep!

   Now soft and gleaming white as it was, I couldn't resist any longer. My mama always said the proof of the nip is in the tasting. So not holding back I settled myself in (forgoing the kneading) to conduct a "test nap", just to make sure it would be OK. Not for me you understand, but for the peep, and science. Well I can tell you I heard not a quack, bleat or cock-a-doodle-do out of that duvet. Which was something of a shame, as I overslept and missed my late supper slot and could really have done with a wake up call.

   Later that evening whilst we both nestled in and on the duvet, I discovered that the peep had been looking for a reason to get rid of the old one. Me shredding it had been just the reason needed. Having done so, the peep said I deserved my cream, for sure! Well, can you believe it. After all the upset and stress I was put though, the usurping, un-usurping and sneezing. Then I get told I was doing the peep a big favor! Me thinks this is clearly a two (or maybe a three) bowls of cream worth of a big favor. To ease the stress a psychological trauma that will haunt my waking hours.

   Oh and in case peep gets to see this later, just so you know and don't sleep in, I'll be on my throne early tomorrow for breakfast. At 5AM I think would be nice and early, don't you?

Tune in next week as we discover the strange case of Canaries, Pawprints, and Paint!

Till then, cheerio, and keep dusting!!