I. Am. A. Mouse. And. I. Live. In. A. House.

Contrary to popular belief, I do not snuffle around in that particularly unpleasant melange of fluff and dust which huddles in miserable clumps behind sofas and under side-boards. And the mythical hole behind the skirting board is not as dark and dingy as one has been led to believe.

No no, my poor misguided friends! The largely unchartered territory between interior and exterior walls is positively palatial! All is not as it seems….. behind that skirting board lies Mouse Mansions, where one saunters at ones leisure, drifting with a head full of dreams through labyrinthian corridors connecting innumerable light and airy chambers wherein a rodent can recline and take his repose in a thoroughly civilised manner. Not a miserable clump in sight!

As if that’s not enough of a revelation, dear hearts, there’s yet more to come…. it’s a common misconception that mice abhor cats. Take Tom and Jerry for example, who clobber each other for comedic effect in the name of light entertainment only. Off screen the two are firm friends and well established writing partners. Some may be familiar with their infamous tale, ‘Of Mice and Men,’ which was attributed to John Steinbeck merely as a cover. The two feared that if their true identity was revealed their works would not be taken seriously by literary critics, furthermore, the controversial nature of the work could damage their reputatable and long standing careers as children’s entertainers.

Yes, yes, it was but yesterday, darlings, that I was delighted to receive an unscheduled visit from my good friend Raggy Von Snaggle Fang who came bearing a gift to make ones heart sing – The World Atlas of Cheese, no less! I think you’ll be as interested as I was to learn that the cheese fans of Greece manage to munch their way through an average of 31.1kg of cheese per head, per year! A riveting read, I think you’ll agree…

A pigeon named Worry

There’s a pigeon in my face again, one of those grey refugees that huddles under the viaduct, or ‘bridgeon’ if you will. There’s a melted claw trying to get a foothold on my lip and greasy down up my nose. It’s pecking at the corner of my eye and smells of fear. I can see nothing but flea bitten feathers flapping before my eyes.

I’m wildly swatting at the air, wheeling around and around, getting dizzy. The pigeon frantically flaps, getting tangled in my hair. The more I wheel, the more it flaps, the more entangled we become.

But there’s life beyond pigeons. And there’s magic in the air. If I could only trust, I could disentangle myself from care. Taking it gently in my hands, I kiss it’s threadbare head. I name this pigeon Worry and release it into the sky, trusting that the magic will transform it as it flies.

“That the birds of worry and care fly above your head, this you cannot change. But that they build nests in your hair, this you can prevent.” – Ancient Chinese proverb