Mischief Update, Rabbit Holiday Edition

Old business first!

Loose ends that remain unraveled: The human female’s little coin purse is still soaking and still discharing blue dye. Roofer number five still has not come with the insurance check for the humans to countersign so, technically, we are all sleeping under a roof that has not been paid for. The human female superglued the magnet that is tall enough to mash down the door-closed sensor to the inside of her car door, and now the car does actually acknowledge that the driver’s door is shut. BUT. The rear passenger side door still refuses to lock and is still wedged locked with a wad of paper. Meanwhile, I’ve had the Tire-Pressure-Monitoring-System-is Kaput light go out. Does that mean the sensor is working again, or that it is so broken that it can’t even say how broken it is. Supposedly the dealership has the part is on order; it was supposed to be in last Tuesday but no word has announced its arrival. The dealership did call, however, unrolling a whole spiel about how they got distracted by a last minute oil change and they were sorry they didn’t get to her car about the thingummy that is not a sensor and…wait. This is not Mrs. Harrison? Um, no. Cue frantic search for the human female’s paperwork. Cluelessness abounds!

The humans and Sigyn were very occupied over the last week with various churchy activities. I was distinctly NOT invited to participate in any of the liturgies, but I did want them to know that the Norse God of Mischief was still thinking of them…

While running a bit late to one of the services, the human male discovered that, at my urging, Flannel Cat had helpfully, harf-fully decorated not only the outside of the shoes he needed to wear, but the insides as well. I have tried to teach the felines the importance of being thorough, and I think it’s paying off!

I nudged the weather, and it was a glorious combination of possible dangerous storms, roaring winds and flying pollen, and good-gravy-if-this-is-April-what-will-August-be-like? heat and mugginess. The human female toted a sweater and an umbrella to church and needed neither. Or when she did need the sweater, she very frantically unneeded it a short time later, red-faced and sweating, because that is How Things Are around here.

The human female did not sing in the choir this year on account of feeling a bit punk. She did turn up to help clean the church beforehand, however. I approve of her having to do manual labor, so I was kind and only made sure she got the nearly-empty can of spray cleaner. Oh, and I guess shoving her off the small platform that houses the organ she was dusting counts too. You should see the big, red, bruisy scuff mark on her knee. It’s a thing of beauty.

There were plenty of opportunities for non-harmful, merely playful mischief during the solemn vigil liturgy on Saturday night. I was banned, of course, but I saw to it that the big candle the male was tasked with processing in went out twice between the bonfire and the church door. I made sure the wireless mic’s batteries went out on the pastor, I made the choir miss a cue and start singing before a lector could repeat a reading in Spanish, I turned the page so the prayer intentions got read out of order, and if you guessed it was me who saw that the male, who was carrying the bowl of holy water for the priest, got a faceful of back-swing droplets for every wave of sprig-sprinkled water aimed at the congregation, you would be right. I also saw to it that there was a large fellow with a boomy, not-quite-on-pitch voice singing with great gusto right behind the human female in two out of the three liturgies. (Different fellow each time. No one should have to sit near her twice.) Oh, and most of the good stuff was already eaten by the time the human female got a break from kitchen duties and could get to the reception. The closest she got to the chicken was what she got on her white shirt carrying away the empty pan.

I also had some fun with a little gift the humans were given by one of the families at the basket blessing. Just like last year, someone gave them a butter sheep. I gave it a good shove on the drive home, which “rearranged” its physiognomy somewhat.

Don’t be sad, Sigyn. I’m sure it will be just as delicious happy with a smooshy face as not. Anyway, I have left some of your favorite parts of the season completely unmeddled-with.

And before you call me a monster, I’ll have you know that the human female got unexpected rewards vouchers both from the place she has bought her silly postage stamps and the store where she recently purchased a staggering amount of embroidery thread. Essentially, she was able to get some free stamps and some free thread. It put her in a good mood for days, but I whispered to her that the universe can’t be that friendly, and it surely means that mischief of some sort is surely headed her way. (And if the universe won’t oblige, yours truly can certainly make it happen…)

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