The sunshine reminds you of concrete skies

[sovay]

There was no deer mouse under the mixing bowl this morning, nor did his cousins manifest and demand recompense.

My brother calls me up to let me know, as a sort of yardstick before he tells our parents, that he has acquired a mouse.

Her name is Experiment 6. She is a white lab mouse whom he saved from the short desolate life of snake food; she has a little plastic wheel on which she races like a hamster and he reports that she is ruby-eyed and affectionate. He would bring her home, except that my mother, who is allergic to every kind of fur, would stop breathing as surely as if she were a cat. So either I will have to wait until he has an apartment this summer or I should visit in the next couple of weeks before I can meet her. It's a little sad; it's rather sweet; I tell him to send photographs.

Apollo Smintheus laughs and eats my pear cake.

Comments

[ex-blue-verv849.livejournal.com]

Mice are strange. Between your stories of your classics lesson of an interloper and my pet-store managing partner's sporadic reports of mouse crime scenes (generally along the lines of one less in the tank and all the others bounding around like nothing is wrong, blood up to their first joints), something dark wants to brew.

Have ever seen Mouse Guard?
http://www.davidpetersen.net/mouseguard/index.htm

[sovay]

mouse crime scenes (generally along the lines of one less in the tank and all the others bounding around like nothing is wrong, blood up to their first joints)

. . . Shirley Jackson, eat your heart out.

Have ever seen Mouse Guard?

I had not. Wow. It looks like the world of Redwall before Brian Jacques ran out of plot and still kept writing.

[kayselkiemoon.livejournal.com]

Wow. It looks like the world of Redwall before Brian Jacques ran out of plot and still kept writing.

*high fives* yep, a sad way to go.

your mouse-trapping experience sounds like a great success. did you mark this one with paint? I'd never thought of that. for a while, we'd set a have-a-heart trap each night with peanut butter, and each morning my dad would release the mouse in the woods across the street. next morning, another(the same?) mouse. one time he didn't want to jump out, so I shook the trap and he bounced out and ran up my leg, and froze halfway up. fortunately my opening remarks to the conversation reminded him of a pressing engagement elsewhere. ;)

[ex-blue-verv849.livejournal.com]

The art is spectacular, and the story, while not anything particualarly new or complex, is surprisingly mature, and very well executed.

[ex-blue-verv849.livejournal.com]

It looks like the world of Redwall before Brian Jacques ran out of plot and still kept writing.

True. I think the last one I read was Mariel, and the whole thing was starting to go even then. I noticed that he had something non-redwall out, which gives me a little hope for him.

[sovay]

I think the last one I read was Mariel, and the whole thing was starting to go even then.

I have an instinctive fondness for Mariel of Redwall because of the presence of pirates, even if the villain is a pirate with a very silly name.

Of his non-Redwall books, I remember that Seven Strange and Ghostly Tales effectively creeped me out when I was in sixth grade, and that Castaways of the Flying Dutchman was a serious disappointment, because from a potentially intriguing variant on the folktale, it turned into the kind of eccentric puzzle-solving that ate most of the later Redwall books alive. The characters happened to be human and no one was laying siege to their village, was about the only difference.