mr. pointy

She’s Actually Doing It!

I never thought the human female would go through with her grand plan of picking up trash on her early morning walks. But actually, she has been out twice already.

I can’t let her feel too smug, though, so even though it means arising far earlier than I’d like to, I have taken to accompanying her.

On her first jaunt around the block, I saw to it that everything was wet and muddy from rain and dew (wet tissues are especially resistant to Mr. Pointy) and that she was bitten by two mosquitoes.  The haul included numerous cans, bottles, bits of paper, three socks (none matching) and a very large piece of under-siding house wrap.

It is interesting to note that, since she begins her perambulations before dawn, she is looking for things that show up white or shiny under streetlights, headlights, and the stars.  That gets her paper, cans, styrofoam, and glass.  She is also zeroing in on a lot of shiny leaves and light-colored rocks, which slows her down enormously.  Just think of the fun I will have when autumn arrives in earnest and half a million glossy-leaved, deciduous trees shuck off their raiment all at once!

Oh, and I’ve also figured out that a mower can turn a styrofoam cup (1 stab) into about a hundred little bits that just sink down into the grass when she tries to poke them.  Mowed cans are even better, since they chop up into a  passable substitute for razor-sharp shrapnel.

Today’s haul consisted of cigarette packages, foam cups, bottles, cans, bits of old tire, the box and instructions for a home pregnancy test (in two different places), a tea towel, and two pristine, white, empty trash bags.


Those last were from me.  It’s in my interest to have her work to keep my domain clean, and I feel she should be encouraged to keep at it.

I am docking her several points though, because there were three of them and she lost one out of her pocket somewhere along the way.  Litterbug.

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Norns’ Nighties–Another Package

It must be THE week for getting packages in this house, because there’s another today and it’s huge.  Very well, it’s not terribly broad, but is intriguingly long and skinny.


Help  me open it!  What do you suppose is in it?  Extra-extra long spaghetti?   A build-your-own-giraffe kit?  An early-ordered bundle of switches for the human female’s yule stocking?  A lawn-sized game of spillikins?

Huh.  I… Sigyn, do you know what this is?


It’s metal, a meter or more long (tall?), and has a thinner bit on the end, capped with something blue.


Ooooh!  the blue cap comes off, revealing a long steel spike!  It’s a weaponThe human female has purchased a WEAPON!  I do not know whether to be proud of her or apprehensive for the safety of all surrounding her.  This is the finger-slicing, knuckle-grating, knee bruising mortal who once slammed her own hair in the hood of her car.  Should she really be given access to something so beautifully sharp?


(Light dawns.)  Ah.  Now I have it.  The human female has been lamenting the amount of trash along the streets and sidewalks in the neighborhood.  I believe she has purchased a “trash-picker-stick” to take along on her walks in the mornings.  She seems positively gleeful and has dubbed it “Mr. Pointy.”

Again, I don’t know whether to be proud of her or fear for my bodily safety.  Oh, well.  The likelihood of her following through on her good intentions are vanishingly small, so chances are we are out of harm’s way– and I won’t have to scrape together any craw-sticking words of grudging commendation.

Pffft!  “Mr. Pointy,” indeed.

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