Everybody

I mentioned a few days ago that I'm moving.  AJD is not.  It's sad but true.  So we really wanted to get one big picture with the entire local chapter of the Wild Republic (both retired and active members), the Wild Parliamentary Monarchy, the Wild Mythic Federation, and us, before I leave.  Here we are, immortalised by our intrepid photographer friend ML.

After ML had taken this, we realised that somehow Seal was missing.  Obviously this would not do, so I got up and found him and talked him into being in the picture.  Seal's not camera-shy, but he's retired, and accordingly tries to avoid anything suspiciously big and official.  This position is understandable, as he's not just any retiree: Seal was president pro tem of the Wild Republic Senate for fifteen years until he decided to retire - not just any fifteen years, mind you, but the most prosperous and well-run fifteen years of its entire history.  He is legendary: one of their greatest political figures of all time.

But when he thought about it some more, he decided we were right: this occasion was worth making an exception for.  So here is another picture with everyone, Seal included.

Look how Barry is so eager for centre stage that he's blocking my face.  That's so very typical of Barry.

Recreating Snow White

Approximately a year ago, well before it occurred to us that we could use a camera, AJD took advantage of an afternoon nap I was taking to give me what was simultaneously the most adorable and most surreal moment of my entire life to date.  We have endeavoured to recreate it for you.

What happened was approximately this: I had fallen asleep on AJD's bed, and while I was asleep, he convinced the entire Wild Republic to encircle me.  I was sleeping with someone the original time this happened; we didn't remember who, so in the reenactment Sir Theo did the honours, as he's the hardest to fit into a circle.

Here's the same thing, from a slightly different angle.

AJD was very proud of this idea and its execution.  He was particularly proud of his ability to withstand the temptation to wake me up, and left me to wake up on my own.

And so I woke up, surrounded by inquisitive furry faces.  If you've never had this experience, I strongly urge you to get someone to help you remedy the fact, because there's really nothing quite like it.

After we had completed the reenactment, we discovered to our chagrin that Navarre had been omitted from the fun; he'd been playing around on AJD's computer and missed the summons.  He was very disappointed, and AJD was very jealous because he hadn't got to be the one in the middle of the circle, so I swapped places with him and we let Navarre be featured in the middle.

Sir Theo later took advantage of the gathering to deliver a rather lengthy address on the topic of meadow vole politics.  This sounds really dull, but the animals seemed to find it entertaining; at least, none of them cut out early.

Anyway, so there you go: the cutest and most surreal moment of my life, recreated photographically for your pleasure.

A Mound o'Cat

I include this picture exclusively because it is cute.

AJD and The Eleventh Hour

There's a lovely book called The Eleventh Hour, by Graeme Base, about an elephant who has a party for his eleventh birthday, with his ten best friends and eleven games, only to find that someone had eaten the entire birthday feast.  The reader has to piece together the mystery based on clues in the illustrations.

It occurred to AJD that some of the denizens of the Wild Republic might appreciate The Eleventh Hour, particularly Barry and Rusty (the characters include an elephant and a tiger), and the younger ones.  So he snagged Barry and the juveniles and started reading, and it turned out everyone else was interested too.  The winter animals even came back from their snow-watch vigil.

Notice how Leprosy has appropriated a prime position for himself, and how Plouie seems to have misunderstood where the action is supposed to be.

He had to turn the pages himself; it would have been cuter if the others had helped, but they were too enraptured.

Afterwards, of course, the reading party turned into a general cuddling party.  I love how happy they all look.

Angel Joe and Navarre are ensuring that Nicodemus doesn't get too near to the book.

Plush Kittens Are Silly Too

Just to prove that plush kittens are every bit as capable of being adorably silly as live kittens, I present the following cat pyramid:

Top: Flurry

Medium, left to right: Khamsin, Navarre

Bottom, left to right: Cami, Mahler, Rusty

Flurry got to be on top because he's the youngest, and he was really excited about that.  Rusty kind of wanted to be on top, but then he realised that being on the bottom meant he was one of the strongest, and decided that this was even more awesome.

Plouie's Aliiiiiiive and the Arctic Animals Are Eating the Iceberg

Yesterday AJD discovered that the Brothers Chap had finally posted a new cartoon after a very long hiatus.  We watched it together, and since the cartoon featured Senor Cardgage, Plouie watched it too: AJD wanted to see whether Plouie would have an affinity with him or not.  Apparently not, sadly.  The cartoon featured lots of snow, which made Plouie quite excited, but the plot was completely over his head.

Afterwards we discovered that Plouie loses you if he's not looking at you, even if he's actually standing on you.  I was wearing a sweater, which excited him because sweaters remind him of snow, so AJD put him down on my shoulder, but he wasn't facing me, and as a result he was looking all over for me until we directed him to turn around.  Then he did it again a few minutes later.  Plouie doesn't have much in the way of longterm memory.

It's definitely nice to see him moving about and bouncing again.  He'd been very quiet for some time; he spent most of last month lying on his back and staring fixedly at the ceiling.  I was getting worried that he'd blown his circuits for good, but it must have just been a longer cycle than usual.  Plouie sort of has phases, like the moon, only less regular: periods of hyperactivity followed by catatonia and then back again.

Returning to the subject of snow, the arctic animals are currently trying to eat the iceberg.

AJD used to have a desktop Mac, but about eighteen months ago he replaced it with a laptop because it was ancient and slow.  It's now sitting on the floor about a foot from my side of the bed.  Since it's large and white, the animals with snow affinity have concluded it's an iceberg, and they often take turns perching on it.  Similarly, his duvet is blue, and the animals with water affinity sometimes treat it like water.  They know it's not; it's a purely nostalgic phenomenon.  We're less clear on whether the iceberg is nostalgia or not, or whether it depends.  (Plouie almost certainly takes it for a real iceberg.)

I went into AJD's room this morning to ask him some questions about Yiddish, and in the process noticed that Vim (the polar bear) and Murchison (the Arctic fox) were both lying on the floor near the iceberg.  They're either licking it or trying to eat it.  We have no explanation for this bizarre phenomenon; they've certainly never done this before.  And while Vim is young, and therefore can be expected to do odd things, Murchison is an adult, and a very canny one at that.  Maybe they're anxious for it to snow now that's winter?  Or maybe there's something about the psyche of snow animals that we don't understand? 

A few minutes later, I noticed that Cami was entangled in the shoelaces of one of AJD's shoes, but that seems like typical feline behaviour.

One might think that one has complete control over the antics of one's plush menagerie, such that one will never be surprised at their antics.  This is totally false.  They have a remarkable capacity for doing cute things with no help from us at all.