This past week-end, as you undoubtedly know, was Memorial Day, a time to celebrate and remember the men and women who died in honor and defense of this country. Mordecai and I wanted to participate in the festivities and show our thanks, so we pulled the old Revolutionary War-era cannon out of the attic and onto the widow’s walk. We are not naive enough to believe that shooting off a cannon into Brooklyn is a good idea, so we loaded the old thing with fireworks. This, of course, is also incredibly illegal.
We learned just how illegal when the fine officers of the local police unit showed up at the door. Mordecai, in his typical manner, disappeared before the police were even out of their patrol cars, leaving me, as usual, to take care of things.
Have you ever had to explain why you were up on your roof, setting off fireworks illegally, with a great horned owl, a sea horse in a bell jar, and an over-sized Sherlock Holmes-style pipe? Fortunately for us all, I am rather meticulous in my record-keeping and permit registering.
I think we are all relieved that the officers did not notice the rather gamy odor wafting down the stairs from the laboratory. Apparently some specimens were frightened by the cannon.
Inevitably, Mordecai will return with a gift for me, to thank me for my efforts in keeping us on the correct side of the law. The last time we danced this dance, he gave me MoodPaper, wall paper that changes color and design according to the room occupant’s mood.
Seems like a marvelous item, doesn’t it? Unfortunately, my dreams are so vivid that the MoodPaper would dance in an explosion of color and light each night, waking me rather rudely and leaving me alarmed.
Mordecai’s best-laid plans always seem to take a sinister turn. Unsurprising, really, when you look at the MoodPaper in his guest room; it is constantly undulating in a prism of greys and greens. Sinister, indeed.