Far across the road……..
…….over the stone wall and under the Rosa Rugosa Bush, there lives a group of beings with powers and faculties rivaling humans. One could argue that both they and humans are competing for the low rung on the ladder, as far as mammals go, but I will leave that for another discussion or for you to decide. There is sufficient evidence to support both positions—and I have yet to make up my own mind.
I am leaning toward the Rose Bush however.
While we may have never been promised a rose garden—wouldn’t it be nice to at least “smell” like a rose once in a while?
The following conversation occurred between Nicodemus and Mrs. Brisby beneath the Rose Rugosa one romantic night—under a bright, full, Harvest Moon.
Once in a “Blue Moon” so to speak.
The nights were getting colder and Nicodemus had love on his brain.
Just give the conversation a listen!
“Where have you been Nicodemus,” asked Mrs. Brisby, “I haven’t seen you under the old Rose Bush recently?”
“I have got the COOLEST new digs,” said Nicodemus, “Or perhaps I should say the ‘WARMEST’ new digs,” he added.
“Where is it,” asked Mrs. Brisby curiously. Mrs. Brisby had the coming winter on her brain as well.
“Well, do you know about that well, over by the ramp that floods with water whenever it rains—you know—when the water pours from the chimney that goes all the way up to the sky,” asked Nicodemus?
“Sure—I’ve run by it lots of times—but it never occurred to me to go in it—one could drown!” exclaimed Mrs. Brisby with a worried look in her beady little eyes. “I have even looked up the chimney and seen the twinkling stars above,” she added. The fact that the downspout dumped onto the ramp instead of into the well never dawned on Mrs. Brisby.
“There is no danger,” Nicodemus assured her, “And if you drop down into the well you come to a tunnel. If you follow the tunnel to where it bends to the north and immediately bends again to the east, then bends back to the north—you eventually come to a a place with another well—or chimney actually, when going that direction. There is a piece of wood sticking down through the chimney and if you climb the piece of wood, you enter a marvelous place never frequented by humans,” explained Nicodemus with great excitement.
“You can’t be serious—never,” questioned Mrs. Brisby with the most doubtful face she could muster? She knew for a fact the humans managed to find a way to get just about everywhere.
“Well, certainly VERY seldom—I have never seen a single one in over a year,” said Nicodemus, “Come on—I’ll show you.”
“ONLY if you have sunflower seeds or blue cheese,” Mrs. Brisby teased him as she followed him toward the well.
“You know I do,” said Nicodemus—letting her think he might have both.
So, down the well they went, around the first bend in the footing drain, around the next bend, and the next bend, and then they scampered up the wooden stick at the chimney—into the crawl space at the unused downspout location.
“WOW!!! This is so cool,” exclaimed Mrs. Brisby, as she hopped off the pipe and into the cavernous space. An ocean of black slippery plastic spread out before her like an ocean of black slippery plastic.
“Come on—I’ll show you my pad—and my heated bed,” winked Nicodemus as he playfully bumped into Mrs. Brisby and raced into the darkness.
As the two scampered across the plastic, their hard little claws made scratching sounds like rice being walked on at a wedding.
Mrs. Brisby was thinking to herself that Nicodemus must be “nibbling BAD cheese”—or something worse. Who ever heard of a “heated bed” or a place without humans? But, sure enough, there it was—Nicodemus’s heated bed—complete with nice white sheets—covering that all too familiar gritty nasty yellow stuff that takes days to lick out of one’s hair. That yellow stuff was nastier than sand in unwanted places after having sex on the beach—or in the sand-box.
Nicodemus nodded toward the bed. “Want to spend the night,” he asked—-his whiskers twitching seductively?
He didn’t have to ask Mrs. Brisby twice—after all—-it had been a long time since the last Blue Moon—or blue cheese for that matter—and besides—the nasty yellow stuff was all covered up!
By Charles Buell, Real Estate Inspections in Seattle
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