...Er, um, Hello!

My name is Augustus. I have parents. Sometimes life can be difficult. I possess the great skill of being able to charm the socks off of anyone who chances to spot me, a rare occurrence indeed. [The spotting, that is; not the charming!]
However, for you, Dear Reader, I am prepared to divulge my deepest thoughts and perspective of the world, mostly because if I don't tell somebody what is going on around here, I am going to pop!
But be warned, proceed with caution: Living with Mummy and Dad can be rather harrowing at times...

Tuesday, January 31, 2012

I’ve Been Poisoned!

Mummy was acting a bit suspicious this morning, working quietly in the kitchen while humming a nameless tune. I thought I heard a rustling noise - like a box being opened – so I peeked around the corner of the room-I-dare-not-enter [remember, I was banned from the kitchen until I learned some Manners], thinking it might be a treat.  But abruptly she ceased action, giving me a swift sideways glance. Something in my memory jarred; when have I noticed this sly behavior before? Wait a minute…something is stirring in the old bean….
Nope. Can’t recall anything. So I slid past her and raced to my favorite chair by the window. Well, I knew when Mummy didn’t shout at me for being in the Untouchable Room that she must be really preoccupied but what could have her so entranced that she was oblivious to my blatant crime? [For the record, I wasn’t technically in that room; my feet never touched the floor, honest!]. Oh, well, I thought – maybe she has forgiven me and is ready to concede that she was too harsh about the muffins. So I settled down, leaning over the arm of the chair, gazing out onto the patio, my mind slooowlly drifting away…. Suddenly I felt Mummy’s presence lurking, hanging over me like a vulture!  Then she raised her arm, casting a shadow on my now upturned face; I cowered with sudden recollection of the memory that had escaped me before – Poison! Drip, drip, drip…Mummy was doing it again!
For anyone who may be interested in the insidious nature of Mummy, I must tell you that she poisons me once a month like clockwork, claiming she is trying to prevent me from having a "Flea" (is that like a conniption?) but I know secretly she is trying to kill me little by little so no one will suspect. What’s worse, Dad lets her do it! He sits idly by, pretending not to notice all the while she is mixing her brew and pouring it out on me. Further, I have reason to suspect that Vet is in on it, too - he slips them a box of something every now and then. What can I do? I just hope my constitution is rigid enough to keep me going. *Cough, cough, ack*

Monday, January 30, 2012

Poor Li' Me!

I am so misunderstood. Mummy yelled at me for “chasing” Tippy and upsetting a vase of flowers along the way. I tried to explain that Tippy was already running and as I wanted to tell Tippy something, naturally I followed. Fast. She sped, then I sped up, then the table stepped out in front of us - Tippy ran up onto it, I sort of ran into it, the whole thing shook and the vase fell over. That’s the whole story.
But Mummy doesn’t believe me – she thinks I was chasing Tippy just to scare her because I am bigger than she is and she sometimes is mean to me, so now I am in trouble. What is a guy to do?

The Big Let Down

Remember me telling about giving Mummy the kiss? And how she melted, and how I would get away with anything? Well, APPARENTLY it doesn’t apply to eating the extra banana nut muffins that were left sitting on the counter. I mean, I just ate the tops off - it’s not like there weren’t plenty of the other parts to go around. Besides, everyone had left the room (remember Counter Intelligence Rule #1!) so naturally I assumed nobody wanted them. What do they expect a guy to do? It isn’t human nature to ignore such delightfully sweet treats.
Not to mention, I can’t really tell which Mummy is more irritated about – eating the muffin tops OR getting on the counter [again]. Seems like a pretty fair balance of both, since I have been banned from the kitchen until I “learn some Manners”, whatever that is. Sounds dashed unpleasant to me.

Sunday, January 29, 2012

Sweet nothings

This morning, I gave Mummy a huge kitty kiss - fuzzy whiskers and all! Then I patted her face and looked her brightly in the eyes for a very long time (5 or 6 seconds at least!). She positively melted. Now I will be certain to get away with anything! :)
At least for a day or so.

Saturday, January 28, 2012

Bedtime Burgling

We had breakfast in bed this morning - Mummy gave me my own little plate with lots of buttery toast and boiled eggs. Then I sprawled across Mummy's lap, and she gave me a back rub and Nobbie a tummy rub. I fell asleep during this process, and when I woke up, Mummy and Dad were gone. We had the whole bed to ourselves - it was me, Nobbie, Aspen, Princess, Poppet and Nutmeg (Mummy says Nutmeg is a Sweet Pea, which I think is funny – she is rather round). Tippy was nowhere to be seen so I stretched out and slept and slept – that is, until I heard a burglar breaking in the kitchen door! I was still a bit groggy and barely able to move so I wondered what I was going to do if this burglar made it into the bedroom, and me still in my pajamas! I only hoped he would not steal our fish...
Steps in the entryway...creeeaak went the door. My eyes wide with abject, quivering fear, slowly I turned that direction, uncertain what to do next. A head peeked around the corner...
BUT it turned out to be Mummy and Dad back home. Really, they should call first - it gives me such a start to hear keys rattling and doors flying open unannounced. At least I knew the fish were safe because Dad wouldn't let any burglars come in so I went back to sleep.
Everything is okay. For now.
Bahahahahaha.....!

Augustus, Trendsetter

I have really started something ‘round here! I do not refer to my great sense of fashion (though I am noted for it – just check out this dashing grey fur coat I wear!). No; what has happened in this place is more like a revolution [in playing]….
Those of you who are familiar with my recent chronicles will remember well that ubiquitous moment when I had to dunk Grover the Soggy into my water bowl for a rinse after Mummy Dearest very nearly killed the poor fellow. Since that time, everyone has gotten into the dunking game, and every time Mummy goes to refill the water bowl, there are at least 3 mice lounging in there! This morning there was the red one (Rupert), the lime green one (Oofy) and the blue one (Myrtle). Friedrich (the grey one) was working his way over. Grover is a bit sensitive about the whole dunking thing so is holding back….
 Of course, Mummy still hasn’t learned any manners regarding the, er, removal of said mice so is bound to flip them out onto the cold tiles without so much as a “How do you do?” So what? We just wait until she is gone then pick the dripping creatures up and return them to the dish, or “Pool” as we now call it. It is all the rage, with cats lining up at The Pool to see what all the excitement is about. I am thinking of putting up a lemonade stand and charging an entrance fee - I could make a bally fortune, considering how many mice we have ‘round here! I wonder if Mummy will get some little umbrellas for the drinks? I think I will ask…hang on! Wait a minute…Friedrich just tumbled past the door…and is that Myrtle flying through the air? What??? There she goes again! Gotta go…wait!!! Stop, Mummy! Unhand that mouse...!

Friday, January 27, 2012

Lesson in Sharing

Tonight Mummy made broiled flounder and scrumptious crab cakes for dinner. When it was time, we all gathered ‘round the table in our usual seats, me right beneath Dad (he tends to offer more generous portions than Mummy), the others scattered at intervals between the colonnade of table-, chair- and people legs. All nine of us sitting patiently, waiting… and waiting…
It seems Mummy and Dad were so absorbed in their silly conversation and pure indulgence in the aromatic foodstuffs that they completely forgot that the rest of us were in the room! Do you think we got even a morsel of flounder, a snippet of flaky, tender crab cake? NO. That is, not until I took steps to correct the situation. Sometimes parents just need to be reminded, I guess.
When it became apparent that the usual whiskering* and leg-pawing weren’t working, I thought something more drastic was called for. After all, my tummy was in no mood to be trifled with! Leaving my preferred place and slithering through the crowd of fluffy tails and tickly whiskers, I found myself beneath the chair just opposite Mummy. Beneath the empty chair…
As it was unoccupied I took up residence, transitioning easily into my famous ‘stealth mode’. No response (not to my presence, anyway. Mummy laughed a good bit at some goofy thing Dad said). Good! Next, I poked my nose above the level of the table to scope things out, rather like a periscope. Well, not really – my nose doesn’t bend. It does wrinkle up sometimes, though, which Mummy says is cute…where was I? Oh, yes – “poking my nose above the level of the table”...got it! I could hear the delicious sounds of forks scritching across plates, of broccolis being champed – this was too much! My head popped up, and I found myself at eye level with that big platter overflowing with juicy fish and steamed rice - oh what aroma, what nuances of butter and stuff! Still no reproach, Dad butchering yet another joke, Mummy saying how delicious the flounder was with just the right hint of seasonings…ummm…I sniffed and sniffed until next thing I know I follow my nose until I am seated right beside the platter, looking down at that lovely pile….
I have no explanation for what I did next. It was there, I was there…well, the long and short of it is, I grabbed a filet and made off with it! I have never committed a crime so blatant as that, and it felt marvelous! I was free as the wind, racing toward the table’s edge, thinking gloating thoughts of how impressed Aspen and Nutmeg, et al, would be when *Whoof*, my advance was checked by a pair of hands grasping my vast waistline (I knew it wasn’t Mummy - she can’t get her hands around me).  Dad ordered me to “Drop it!”, and Mummy was laughing so hard she started crying. Boohoo – I’m the one that got busted! What in the world did she have to cry about? Then she said those awful words, making me cringe to my soles of my fuzzy footpads: “You knew you were going to get some. Why didn’t you wait like a good boy?” How humiliating, and right in front of everyone, too. I hung my head in shame.
The good news is that I wasn’t put in chokey (Mummy and Dad are really pretty easy), and Mummy made us each a nice plate of that incredible meal so I didn’t miss out on a thing. You should have heard all the smacking going on – what a feast! Oh, and the lesson I learned? Be patient, or move reeeeally fast!

*my branded technique of gracefully touching the tips of my whiskers across any exposed portion of legs or feet in order to get maximum attention. I highly recommend it!

Ambush at Sunrise

My calico cousin Tippy attacked me this morning for no good reason. I was just sitting in the window, admiring the sunrise and looking extremely cute, when she got all hostile and fuzzed up and, frankly, looked pretty scary! She's nearly half my size, so one can imagine she is pretty big, and one can see why I am scared of her. On my [immediate] departure, she took my spot in the window.
I tried to find another window but there were cats in all of them. I asked Mummy why we have to have all these cats but she was no help - she says if she has to live with them then so do I. So there it is.

Thursday, January 26, 2012

All In A Day's Work

I wasn't getting enough attention this morning, what with Dad traveling the world and Mummy working devotedly at her desk. Everyone else was snoozing so I had no one to play with - they are no fun, the whole blasted lot of them! I mean to say, what good is it jumping on counters and opening forbidden doors if no one is awake to see it? [clarification: There is much value in Mummy not being around to see those things]
So I did the only logical thing any normal person would do: I jumped onto Mummy's desk and landed SPLAT on her keyboard, right in the midst of her vicious typing (I am sure it was nothing important; she mentioned something about working on a pricing contract or some other petty document). I then rolled over on my back, nestling into the keys and exposing all my curly tummy furs in the hopes of getting a nice tummy rub. It didn't work - Mummy quite rudely tried to push me aside with one hand but as I weigh alot, she was none too successful. Being, ahem, hefty always plays in my favor! :)
My next move was to reach up with my big feet and pat her face, something she usually adores but this time seemed not to have gone over so well (I may have accidentally grazed her chin with a passing claw...). So I switched to plucking softly at her clothes to subtly remind her of my presence. My claw most unfortunately got caught in the fabric and even though I pulled and pulled, the blighted shirt kept hanging on to me. I eventually caught a skinny thread and pulled it all the way out towards me before Mummy rescued me from the clutches of that evil fabric. Mummy put that thread in its place, too - she tugged and pulled at it, then got a little hook thingy to pull the thread back through to the other side, anchoring it down so that it will never be able to attack me again. While she was fixing that, I cleaned her desk, demonstrating with a few sweeps of my fluffy tail how easy it is to end desktop clutter (I like to show Mummy what a great help I am). At this point, Mummy became brisk and was, I felt, too distracted to appreciate my presence so I gave it up and biffed off to find someone else to charm. Fat lot of good, since they were all still asleep. Oh well, Dad's coming home tomorrow!

Counter Intelligence

In my vast years of experience (I am 4, you know), I have learned many valuable life lessons, not the least of which are some very important rules regarding the kitchen counter. I am compelled to share these with my feline friends so as to prevent them coming to any great harm when exercising their naturally curious minds.
Rule #1 - Be sure that Mummy and Dad have actually left the room (not just got all quiet) before you jump onto that forbidden space.
Rule #2 - Doesn't really matter if you forgot rule #1...
...which I did this morning.
Boy, am I in trouble.
Rule #3 – If you don't remember Rule #1, you may as well forget Rule #2 and do whatever you want!

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Gussie Grey: Closets Are The Worst!

Gussie Grey: Closets Are The Worst!

Closets Are The Worst!

We have this mysterious little closet beneath the stairs, and every few days, Mummy either puts in or takes out (among other things) a stack of these wiry whatsits which she keeps in a basket. Well, I have been dying to find out what she does with those things (not to mention what else might be in there - maybe some toys they forgot to give us, or some extra tubs of catnip, perhaps? What about the entry to China?), so I decided today to do the unthinkable.
Yes. I raided Mummy's closet. Sort of.
Anyway, the problem started when I tried to open the door. I usually can grab a door by the corner and pull fast enough to get my nose in there and keep it from closing on me (this takes years of practice so beware if you are just learning closet breaking). But this door is ALOT heavier than I expected, so I got stuck when it slammed shut on me. My rear end was sticking out, and I could hear Mummy closing the dryer door and heading this way. All I could think about was, well several things:
1) I had to get out of sight FAST.
2) I could see the wiry whatsits - nifty!
3) It was really dark in the back of the closet and dark = creepy...

Mummy was definitely headed my way so I wiggled and squirmed until I got my tummy through the door, and it closed just as my tail slid past (whew! Doors slamming on tails is no fun!!). Now it was dark except for a shaft of light coming through the door. There were two options for hiding as I heard Mummy say my name (rather brusquely, I thought, but there wasn't much time to consider it at the moment): the basket with the wiry things, which looked like a tight fit, or the back of the closet (did I mention it was dark and rather creepy looking? I hate dark, creepy places). So I dove into the pile of wires head first. Mummy opened the door and didn't say anything so I thought I was in the clear - she couldn't see me! But I couldn't stand it and tried to back out, only those dratted wires were stuck all around and making a frightful row. Then Mummy started laughing - which I thought in poor taste - as I pulled myself out of the basket with those crazy wires all around me! I couldn't get out of them, and Mummy was reaching for me, still laughing like a crazy person. It occurred to me then that this was a cat trap, and she had been luring me into it by making sure I saw her put them in and take them out every so often, knowing my insatiable appetite for exploring. Wicked woman!
I panicked and the wires got tighter, slipping and falling and pinching, making so much noise that it hurt my ears. I was sure Mummy was going to murder me just then but strangely enough, she helped me get out of the wires (took her a long time, too), and she told me that they are for hanging clothes, not cats. Once free, I dashed a few feet away and gave the wires a nasty look.
I feel much better now, knowing they aren't there for catching cats, but I think Mummy should be more careful about leaving such dangerous things carelessly lying about.
568Z3PTD6MXH

Mr. Industrious



This morning I opened all of the cabinets in the kitchen so Mummy can see what's in there. 

I just knew she would be proud of me, not to mention appreciative that I saved her some work. 
Then I went upstairs and opened all the doors in Dad's study, thinking he would like knowing at a glance what books he has and which papers need to be filed and what not. 
I accidentally slipped on a stack of papers he had on the floor but I recovered quickly and sent only a few flying across the room. I'm alright, though, not a bit hurt. 
Some of the papers went over the bannister and landed on the stairs but I'm sure Mummy won't notice.


I scooted downstairs when I heard Mummy call my name from the kitchen - she sounded agitated so I figured she must have lost something, and of course I always want to help. 

But imagine my surprise and consternation when I found that she had closed all the doors that I had worked so hard to open! 

What is this world coming to? 

People just brazenly destroy your hard work and things….I don’t know why I bother sometimes. 


Mummy is headed up the stairs now; I think I will get under the bed and lay low for a while, suddenly I don't feel so good...


Monday, January 23, 2012

Mummy In Training

Guess what I did today, just to show Mummy I can? Well, Mummy was carrying our watering hole to refill it at the bathroom sink. So I watched...and waited...then just when she was going to raise the bowl to reach the faucet, I sprang! Only Mummy was careless and let the bowl hit me in the head, scattering water everywhere (she is so clumsy!). Still, all in all it was a very productive event.
Mummy didn't like having to clean the water up but I told her she should be more careful next time to prevent such things from happening.
She assured me she would.

His Name is Grover

She shouted. I ran. Not away (this time), mind you, but toward the noise. 
I heard water spraying, Mummy grumbling, a mouse flew out of the shower. 
What is all this, you ask? I will tell you….
I have a mouse. 

His name is Grover.

He is covered in white fur and has a feather tail. 

Of course, I have several mice but this one is my particular favorite. Grover is fun to play with, fun to chew on, and fun to drop in my crunchy bowl so I can keep an eye on him (he sometimes tries to run away, then I have to catch him and bring him back). 

Grover gets dirty. 

After all the tossing, chasing, chewing, and dropping-in-crunchy-bowling, Grover needs a bath. 

There was this puddle in the shower. I dropped Grover in the puddle, swished him about a bit, then left him to soak and clean (pardon the pun) forgot about him - until Mummy found him, that is. When I heard her shout, I ran as fast my chubby little legs could carry me and arrived just in time to observe Grover flying through the air, trailing water droplets and not a few soap bubbles. 

I was aghast, to say the least. He landed on the tile and bounced a couple of times; I ran to his side, checking him thoroughly for damages. I eyed Mummy sideways. Lucky for her, Grover appeared to be intact, if drenched. Poor Grover – it seems one could take a bath around this place without being bunged out on one’s ear. I picked Grover up and carried his sodden corpse to the water dish, deftly dunking him in it ‘cause the dismal creature needed rinsing after his ill treatment. 

After staring at him for a bit in a glazed manner, pondering the atrocities of life, I nibbled on some crunchies then tottered off for a nap. Along the way, I considered - what would Mummy do if she found me lounging in a puddle? 

It is too dreadful to ponder!

Sunday, January 22, 2012

“Augustus, The Artist”


...that is what they will call me! I helped Mummy with a drawing today. She did not know about it until after; I waited until she left the room so as to surprise her on her return with my incredible sense of depth and perspective. She lays her charcoal drawings on the studio floor and sprays them with this stuff and says it has to dry before she puts the drawing away. Welllll...
I studied the drawing carefully, walking around and viewing it from all angles, and finally decided that what it needed was a great big fuzzy pawprint right slap in the middle. Of course, to get there I must add a few other prints as well but I knew that if I got them at just the right angle, they would probably lend that bit of dimension it needed; and I needed to work fast, before that stuff dried. I stepped gingerly onto the edge, and the paper settled a bit beneath my foot (there may have been a few creases but that sometimes happens when we artists really get into our work - can't be helped). Then I proceeded to step high, wide and plentiful - I was starting to get the hang of this! I envisioned scores of drawings hanging on the museum wall, each bearing my signature paw print, admirers moving in close to capture every detail in their memories...What was that noise? OOOPS! Mummy was coming 'round the corner and shouting my name - I must have gotten a telephone call or something. I scraped frantically across the rest of the drawing (would it never end??) and raced right beneath her feet, Mummy suddenly at a loss for words. I dashed off without waiting for accolades (didn't want to miss that call!).
Mummy has been a bit distant this evening; I am wondering if maybe I gave her food for thought - you know, the struggling artist discovering her weaknesses and what not. I am so glad I could help and can't wait until the next time we get to draw.
I just hate the cleanup - does anyone know how to get charcoal out of fur?

Arachnid Alert!



Aaaaaaaaaaaaghhhhhhhhh! 

There was a spider in the house today!! 

I went for breakfast at 5:30 a.m., like clockwork, and he accosted me in the door way to the kitchen, daring me to move a step further. I'm a pretty quiet-natured kind of guy but when I saw this creature, covered in fuzz and sporting so many legs I couldn't count them, staring menacingly at me, I freaked! 
I let out a yowl and sprinted back to the bed, sliding quickly under the covers (with a grace that becomes me well, if I do say so). I demanded from Mummy who let him in here and insisted that she do something about it. 


I don't know if anyone has noticed but Mummy has this ANNOYING habit of laughing at my concerns, as though they are of no consequence. I wish she would correct this. Anyway...


She DID check it out, letting fall some casual remark about "that little thing" (it was HUGE, I swear!), then she swept him up and deftly tossed him out on his ear. Serves him right, barging in uninvited like that. I bet he even grabbed some of my breakfast without asking! 

Subsequent to the arachnid’s intrusion, I have been very careful around the kitchen today, inspecting things closely and steering clear of open passageways just in case some of his friends are still hanging about. 

I am sure to have nightmares about it, and that is no laughing matter.

Saturday, January 21, 2012

Grooming Tactics

I shaved off half my whiskers just like Dad - with his razor, too! I think I look very handsome but Mummy is not happy with me. 

Yet I think it is not fair to expect me to pass up the chance to use Dad's razor while it is dangling on the stand in plain sight - it isn't human nature! 

Still, it won't hurt to be extra sweet with Mummy and get on her good side. 
She is making scones for breakfast tomorrow!

Mummy Found My Stash!

Dad bought Mummy a new chair for the bedroom, confound him! A very nice chair, all covered in striped twill just right for plucking. I won’t go into the lecture we cats got about “leaving Mummy’s chair alone” (i.e. no scratching, jumping, sliding down or even sitting on - pretty extreme, I think!); let us just say that it was not very pleasant. The point here, albeit a fuzzy point, is that the new chair demanded its own personal space [something I have been vying for myself to no avail]. And gaining this new space required a certain amount of shuffling furniture and…Rugs; rugs that happen to be very convenient for stowing kitty contraband. As in the case of the massive pile of Q-tips Mummy discovered on turning back a particular rug that had been in the same spot since the beginning of time - longer than Dad is old, even! I had no reason to believe that blighted rug would not be there until the end of time so had been carefully tucking my well-fuzzed out and artfully dusted cotton swabs right in the center, just in case. I mean to say, you never know when you might have the sudden urge to tote one around the place, and Mummy does not always remember to keep the Q-tip jar full. So I stashed and stored to my little heart’s content, happy as a squirrel knowing his walnuts will be there come winter though no one else knows about them, only to find Mummy dumping all my cherished things into the trash in one reckless moment. I was astonished! I begged and pleaded but it was no good. Those delightful fuzzballs-on-a-stick were gone. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, Mummy lectured me on the perils of dirty Q-Tips lying about the place. I wish I had the good sense at the time to mention how long they had been under there. As in, obviously she hadn’t actually cleaned under that rug in a rat’s age or she would have noticed my goodies sooner. Which would naturally lead to concern over the hazards of dust laden rugs….On reflection, it is probably for the best that I did not mention it; otherwise, I might not be here to relay this story. But mark my words: I WILL find another place for Q-Tips, even better than the last. And I WILL guard them more closely, in case she gets any funny ideas about rearranging things again. I just have to find something Mummy doesn’t clean very often…her clothes closet, perhaps??

Friday, January 20, 2012

Don't Go Into The Closet

I have a secret to tell: Mummy keeps a monster in the closet, and every few days she hauls this monster out and lets it roam at large through the whole house. Thankfully, she does keep it on a leash, one end of which she plugs into a holder on the wall but it still has a lot of room to move about, and that makes me nervous. It makes the most horrific growling noise as it moves! It snuffles across the floor, dragging Mummy behind while she apparently tries to pull it back. Mummy is pretty strong so it must be REALLY powerful to run away from her like that (though I have to give her credit - she does a fair job of corralling it after a while and shoving it back into the closet). We are all terrified of this beast and certain that it will catch us one of these days and eat us but for now it seems to be content to chew on the dust kittens that are all over the house. (Poor little dears; somebody has to make the sacrifice, right? I hope they never leave because then we big kitties are for it!). Still, it chased me into the bedroom today - I was too fast for it, diving headlong under the bed just as it passed by and barely escaping with my life. Unfortunately, Mummy got the bright idea recently to use these big rolling basket thingies under the bed, so there is hardly any room for me, and I think my tail may have been sticking out - I could feel the monster's drawing breath tugging at my tail furs as it rolled past. I am sure it caught my scent so now I will most likely have to fight it off every time Mummy lets it out for a stroll. THANKS ALOT, MUMMY!

Jungle Madness

I crept through the dark green jungle, clinging vines grabbing at my ears and tail, sunlight filtering softly through the leaves overhead. Every turn past those strange growths with their unusual bases led me deeper into the unknown, further from civilization. A strange flying creature buzzed past my nose, startling me not a little. Otherwise, all was quiet in the forest among those towering trees and I-don’t-know-what-all. I was compelled to explore further because there was no telling what adventures lay ahead, what deep mystery might be upturned. Carefully I went, padding softly so as not to disturb this serene nature, this idyllic, wonderful Amazon I alone had discovered. Just ahead a huge branch hung low, past which I caught a glimpse of what appeared to be some sort of gorge, and I was positive this was the great discovery I had been seeking! I lowered my head to push past the branch but it would not budge; so I did what any right thinking individual would – I began to chew it off. At exactly that moment, I heard a shout and turned to see a giant looming overhead (looking suspiciously familiar); I dropped the leaf I was chewing and ran like mad, forgetting clean about the gorge – I toppled right over the edge and slid down the slope, clawing at the last branch in sight. The tree it was attached to uprooted and tilted toward me spilling soil and fuzzy stuff all over me. I was forced to let go and decided to resign myself to the inevitable when I realized I had already landed – slap in the bottom of the bathtub, dirt scattered all round me, Mummy standing with folded arms and drumming her fingers in a marked manner.
Looks like the only mystery that got ‘upturned’ was the philodendron.