Broken Promise

Dear disappointed reader,

I said I would write to you on Monday, and now it is Wednesday. I will not make excuses.

Here we are on the morning of the eve of the New Year. Are you ready? I have purchased a fine sparkling wine to pop open at midnight, or really, before midnight.



I was a little anxious about how I was going to get it open (Harriet's no more use in this than me), when Hector spoke up. Very occasionally Hector proves useful.

He said, "As a smull bibi, I was taught to open le champagne. I kin open eet while I am asleep! But thees is not le Champagne! Thees is from the Spain!"

As you well know, reader, buying bubbly is the easiest thing to do to prepare for the New Year. Much more difficult is coming up with proper New Year's resolutions. Here is my draft list:

1. Get a cow
2. Move

I am stuck here. I don't know quite where to move to, aside from it being suitable for a cow. And I also realize that I need one more resolution. One big resolution is acceptable, but two lesser ones require a third. I believe it will have to do with the allocation of my time. "Use time better." is too vague.

However. I still have several hours to sort it out, and so I leave you here, faithful reader.

Wishing you
a healthy, prosperous and peaceful New Year,
I remain,
your loyal advisor and
dog,
Mickey

Late Again

Dear Readers,

The younger weasel doesn't know about interrogative pronouns. If you ask her where she's been, she says, "What?" It's not because she didn't hear you.

Neither weasel seems to understand Christmas. I've heard them ask to "go to Christmas" several times. Sometimes I wish they would go to Christmas.

Do you feel like I'm stalling? Why am I so late in writing you again? Well, the reason is I've been very consumed with a new cookbook called Nourishing Traditions. To make the things in this cookbook, you first need to get your own cow so that you can drink its milk. No processed milk!

I've been looking for a Jersey cow.


Once I get this cow, I need to feed it on rapidly growing grass. As you know, I have a small yard now with very slow growing grass. So this is another tricky problem.

Harriet says I should just use store-bought milk, but she hasn't read the book.

At the same time, I've been listening to a recording of Walden read by William Hope. He makes Thoreau sound completely unlikeable. In any event, Thoreau was not drinking fresh milk from his own cow, but he was baking his own bread. From what I gather, Thoreau's main point is that we should all live next to a pond.

This poses another problem for me, dear readers, as I live nowhere near a pond.

No cow, no grass, no pond. These are some of the reasons I have not written sooner. Yet I have a lot to say.

I will write again on Monday. I promise.

Your friend and advisor,
Mickey

Six Prune Kids in Trouble

Hello Readers,

Oh, I have another great animation treat for you! Just below you will find another excellent movie by one of Annie's students. This one about a GANG FIGHT! Harriet and I live a rather protected life, and so we like from time to time to see some Real World Action.



The animation is by Toren Falck. The audio is from a Smithsonian Folkways recording. It's off the 1959 album called "Street and Gangland Rhythms, Beats and Improvisations by Six Boys in Trouble."

Thanks, Toren!

Your friends,
Harriet and Mickey

Kickin' Back

Hello Readers,

Oh, I've missed you. I have been so distracted lately, by so many things, and I didn't write you last week, but I didn't forget you either.

I spent another Thanksgiving with my friends, watching movies and eating food.


Harriet wanted to watch Sicko, the documentary on the U.S. healthcare system by Michael Moore. I knew it wasn't a good idea. As you know, Harriet's health is fragile, and these movies can be very upsetting. Harriet doesn't have healthcare coverage.

I know what you're thinking! How can the co-founder of such a successful business venture as Harriet and Mickey, Ink. not have healthcare? Well, her application was denied. Too many pre-existing conditions. Harriet watched the whole movie with tears rolling down her face.

Thankfully (for it was a weekend to be thankful), she had her friends there to comfort her.

(From left to right: Bernice, me, Harriet, Big Mickey, and Hector)

I hope that you, too, reader, had a weekend to be thankful for. We all need friends around the holidays. And we all need healthcare.

Your friend,
Mickey

Coming Clean

Ach! Dear readers! I missed a week!

Sorry! It all started when I realized I hadn't taken a bath in a while.


Look how filthy I was. Harriet was reading The Bookseller of Kabul in which people also bathe at long intervals, and she suggested that I consider taking a bath. Generally I don't like to bathe. It takes me a long time to air dry, and I don't like being flung about in a dryer.

But I took Harriet's advice and then spent last week in the window, waiting for sun to dry me. As you know, there was a great rain spell, and it took longer than expected. My apologies again. It does feel nice to be clean, and I imagine you too, reader, appreciate having a clean writer.

Here is a special treat to make up for it. A lovely animation by one of Annie's students with music from Bach's Well-Tempered Clavier:



Until next week, I remain
your clean and dry, correspondent,
Mickey

Fair Trade Candy

Hello Readers!

Can you tell I've cheered up since last week? Do you want to know why? The answer is: Halloween Candy!

I've found another benefit of living with the weasels. They don't know how to trade. On Halloween they dressed up all cute like animals and scored a lot of candy from the neighbors. The one dressed as a rabbit was particularly good at milking her cuteness and got like three pieces of candy from each house.



When they got home, I inspected their loot.

And the next morning I explained trading to them.




They're not too bright, if you know what I mean ;)



Did I really complain about living with weasels? Living with weasels is great!

Your well-stocked friend,
Mickey

Help

Oh readers,

I can think of nothing to write about today. I spent a miserable weekend at the bottom of a basket of stuffed animals. Illiterate riff raff. Can you spot me wedged between the grinning idiot tiger and gorilla?



My spirits are dashed. With Annie away on an important business meeting, I was left to the whims of two weasels and their unobservant guardian. I don't even know what the weather was like.

Thankfully Annie rescued me and restored me to my proper place and gave me a bourbon neat to revive me. Here I am with a couple of friends-- Bernice, the pig, and Big Mickey. We call him that because he looks like me, but we're not related.


I hope to have more to offer you next week.

Your friend, in suffering and in happiness,
Mickey