Thursday, 23 July 2015

Puzzled?


   Between my official duties of napping, eating, touring the estate, mouse management and trying to keep both my peep and the palace in shape, I don't really get any spare time for puzzles. I do get a bit of time to write this blog of course, not enough sometimes it has to be said, but the day is all about life and living and having fun (oh, and cream, cheese, nip.....).

   Peep, on the other hand, seems to have loads of time and a passion for puzzles. There is barely a book or a magazine that I can sit on that isn't Sudoku or a Crossword related, and there is no place that you won't find one either, from under and in the bed to in draws on cupboards and I did once see on in the fridge with my cream, though peep did admit that was just an oversight when unpacking the provisions. We also have a copious supply of dictionaries to go with them, which he always seems to want at that very moment when I've just settled on them. Now it has to be said those dictionaries tend to collapse sideways on account of their size and the paper used, but if you can get it open around page 614, the letter "M" for Marshmallow, then it is rather comfortable. purrs

   The whole concept of these pursuits seems to be filling letters and numbers into little grids, which I do feel us cats would be rather good at, after all we have been fitting ourselves into little boxes for ages, in fact, that's probably what boxes were invented for and the shoes came afterwards, huh? But from what I can gather you can't just squash any set of numbers or letters into one box, no it has to be the right letter or number in each in the right order to make the right larger number or word. What you then do with the number or word is a mystery to me, as my peep just seems to collect them and throw them away.

   Now checking my online Kittipedia of many things, a puzzle is defined as a peeps game or a toy or a conundrum that tests a peeps ability wisdom and memory, often at the same time. Mouses! I best not tell peep he's supposed to use his memory, he'll struggle with that for sure! The whole point it seems of all the inevitable angst created by doing the puzzle is to, well, either put something together having taken it apart or solve something that he can find the answer to at the back of the book!

   Maybe its just me, but I'd not take it apart in the first instance. It's like those Jigsaws, a perfectly good picture chopped into more bits than I can shake a mouse at and all mixed up in that box. Granted the picture is usually very pretty but those bits get stuck between the claws and on my tummy. Not at all comfortable to sit on, and absolutely no good for litter as the boxes are way too flimsy. purrs

   There do seem to be many sorts of puzzles in many sizes. The most puzzling for me, being in tune to the environment as it were, is why, when peeps understand about pollution and can see damage being done, do they pretend that global warming isn't real and pollution isn't a major contributor to the problem? If they actually didn't believe it was real, the global warming, why are they all signing up to pollution reducing targets of some description?

   I smell a rat, no, not the one from the last blog, that's long gone but in the whole non-global warming camp. They seem a bit like an atheist praying to God under their breath, they don't actually want to be seen to believe or admit the evidence before them so they are hedging their bets, sitting on the fence. Now that's one for Miss Description to check for sure, as I have never yet seen a bet take place in, over, under or around a hedge, I bet no one else has either! For that matter, I have never seen any peeps sitting on a fence, which seems way too painful a place to rest, and one best reserved for birds and us cats. Oh and for squirrels, but I've not told you about that adventure, so best not let that squirrel out the bag. purrs

   One puzzle that I solved this week was why my peep has been getting up and talking to me in the bathroom first thing in the morning. Well, you may say not an unreasonable and a quite polite thing to do, especially to a companion. In all truth I would agree, but when I'm sat quietly perusing the latest copy of the Cattler in a cool spot on the floor next door, then it seems a bit wide of the mark for sure, in fact many feet (or meters) and a room wide of the mark. Mouses!

   Each morning peep had been getting up and heading downstairs to make my breakfast, and on walking past bathroom No. 1 (being first on the left as you head across the landing) has greeted me, well actually not me, with a wave and salutation along the lines of  "Erin mind you don't fall out that window" or "Breakfasts up at 6 o'clock." I had put this down to just a bit of a joke or a misdirected wave, but he keeps doing it. With peeps father ill with dementia, I do worry that my peep may be losing it too, or maybe its the stress. Then it occurred to me that that maybe there WAS another me in the bathroom and peep was actually right and I'd a doppelganger! Maybe that irradiated, homogenised, pasteurised, non-organic cheese and cream peep had brought home last week had worked its wicked ways on me in my sleep. Doppelganger Mouses!

   This palace isn't big enough for two princesses, even if one of them (or is it both of them) is me!? So armed with my own puzzle I set about stalking, it would seem, myself. What I would do to myself if I found me, was another matter, and what if me, sorry I, no maybe it should be we both tried to jump on each other, would we or I even know which one of us was which. Mouses!

   Senses on high alert, there were no signs of an intruder in the palace, no telltale paw prints or new aroma's, but then, I reasoned there wouldn't be if it was me or I. Hmm this is a puzzle for sure, and one that warranted a "necessary adjustment period", or NAP as you peeps say. Some winks later the best plan seemed to be to lay in wait the following morning and catch me in the act of being myself, or not myself as it were.

   Dawn came, which if I may digress, is another one of those other puzzles in life. Who exactly was it who chose her name, and was she (dawn) asked. Maybe she would have fancied another name, such as Erin, just a thought. Erin is a good name for sure and I wouldn't mind sharing, she could have the dawn bit which will be renamed Erin, and when she's finished I will have it back for the rest of the day. One plus about this arrangement would be that I would have to stop in bed at least until Erin (FKA Dawn) came back. I could live with that, being a stoic princess and all. purrs

   Anyways, as the early morning shipping weather forecast had just finished on the radio (not that peep actually sails, Arr) he decided to head on down to the kitchens to make breakfast and some sandwiches for work. Passing bathroom No. 1 he hailed me and muttered something about being up later to check for mouses in the bath. Seizing the moment, I ran from my hideaway behind a stash of cat food under the bed and leapt into the bathroom, in a rather dashing swashbuckling fashion. There, brazenly sat on the window with her back to me was my adversary, resplendent in black and white, her coat shining in the reflected early morning street light, and tail poised curled over the window ledge, truly a princessly adversary of my own calibre, a battle royale no less was on the cards. Mouses!

   The scene was set, dramatic music (early morning news from the kitchens radio) permeated the air then fell silent. Not a sound, not even a purr came between us, even my growl went unanswered. There was a fresh scent in the air, lavender scent, a cool customer I thought, one with class, dressed and scented for the occasion as though it was a party! Now I have to admit it did make me feel slightly underdressed, maybe some Eau de Litiere? hmm.... it is important to make a good first impression, even if it happens to be the last, and peep does have some Chanel somewhere......

Sorry.... I was getting carried away with the whole fashion thing, where was I? Oh yes, I could see there was nothing else for it but to do what any Princess would do.....

I jumped on her, um...me, it....whatever.....only to find.......

Oh....... OH MY! the embarrassment of it all, I'm too ashamed, way too ashamed to say.....but alas I must confess all to you now, that what I found was a large pile of laundered socks tossed on the window ledge. I kid you not (and what goats might have to do with this I don't know) but the socks had so fallen, for I doubt peep could have contrived it thus, so that in the part light they fully resembled me, from the cuffs of some ankle socks protruding for my short ears, to the white of peeps trainer liners being a perfect match for my own socks and chest hairs. My tail was a stray knee length sock which has been desperately trying to find its mate and always seems to get in on every wash.

    My embarrassment for peep and his clearly dubious vision was more than matched by his own when, on looking in on the bathroom minutes later, he saw both I and me or indeed saw the other me for what I was, a load of sweet-smelling socks. He's heading to the opticians next week, I just hope he doesn't come across any piles of socks.  purrs

   As I said, I know I don't have much time for puzzles what with work and all, but how could anyone with an eye for class have mistaken a pile of socks for a princess, this princess in fact, I ask you?




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