A Foggy Walk, Part III: Oh, goody. More trees.

The fog has largely burned off, but things are still very damp. Trees like it that way, and they are all very “happy” today. Sigyn says this one has put on its party dress.


Isn’t it time for a little rest? We should stop and admire the view from this bridge over a largeish creek. Look–another of the pink trees. Let us see if we can get a closer look at the blossoms. Ah–clever Sigyn has found some on the bridge railing.


Yes, Sigyn, they do look a bit like bedroom slippers. I can’t really enjoy this interlude, though. I recall what happened the last time I sat on a bridge when the human female was nearby…

Uh, oh. This tree is considerably less happy. I would like to go on record as saying that I did not do it. I have better things to do with my time than smite dendritic vegetation. Go blame someone else.


We have come to a low-lying portion of the forest. The ground underfoot is decidedly…squishy. Be careful, Sigyn, that you do not become stuck fast in the mire. In fact, I shall demand that the human female carry us. Her boots are supposedly waterproof.


I wonder what, besides tree reflections, lurks in this muddy pondlet the human female calls an oxbow.


I also wonder where the ox is, and why someone would want to tie a bow to one in the first place?

Sigyn–look! Isn’t that one of the odd little shrubby tree things we saw on the human female’s field trip?


The human female is quite excited and is snapping photos rapidly. She is enjoying this walk entirely too much. I shall have to remedy that… She is about to find out that her waterproof boots…aren’t, and I think I can get a bird to drop something nasty on her head.

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A Mischief Update

It’s not all plant-smashing around here. No, I have been hard at work. Let me update you on what I’ve arranged for the human female in her place of employment. (I won’t say “workplace,” because that would imply she actually, you know, does work.)

1. Fun and games with glassware: Remember the big beakers? There’s been no word on whether the one with the funny flaw is safe to use. Nor has there been confirmation on whether the Apothecary Bottles of Unpleasant Memory have been refunded yet.

2. The Squiggly Things vendor never did manage to get her the two jars of little tentacled beasts. Or rather, they did, but they did not succeed in getting them to her alive. She now has a nice stack of invoices marked “D.O.A.”

3. This same Squiggly Things vendor has sent yet another shipment by 2-day air rather than overnight. She’s going to have lots of fun trying to track it down, too, because the campus is closed tomorrow for Spring Break, so it won’t get delivered. Mischief takes no breaks.

4. The humans had some fun activities planned for Spring Break, but I’ve arranged for rain, inches and inches of it. Hey, the female should thank me. It’ll be too wet for yard work.

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Mischief update.

Don’t think for a minute I’ve given up my day job of causing the human female as much annoyance as possible. Just so you know life isn’t all spelunking and quilts and lounging about on nitrogenous compounds, here’s a Sinister Status Report:

–The Ever-dripping Faucet of Wastefulness has finally been fixed, so I arranged for the one in another lab room to leak.

— The plumbers fixed that one too, so I arranged for the pump on the distilled and reverse-osmosis units to go out this morning.

–The missing beakers arrived. One of them has a weird thing that might be a flaw, and the human female is suspicious that it might crack in use.  Still waiting to hear what the vendor says.

–The missing jars of tiny, tentacled beasties arrived late last week.  Dead.  The human female pulled out some more of her graying hair, called the vendor, and arranged for two more to be sent.  Those arrived this morning.  Those, too, had already departed for the Valhalla of the Invertebrates.  Fourth time’s the charm, eh?

— Yet another vendor is peeved with the human female because he hasn’t been paid. She submitted the invoice on Feb 12, so she’s not sure why the accountants haven’t taken care of it.  Probably it’s because I slipped that particular piece of paper onto the bottom of a tall wobbly pile, on the wrong person’s desk.  Ehehehehe, this is twice now I’ve arranged for this merchant to be put out.  No doubt there’s a photo of the human female on his wall and her nose is sporting a bull’s eye.  The thought amuses me.

–It has finally ceased raining, but not before the human female discovered that there is apparently a pinhole in her right rubber boot.  Wet socks are so unpleasant.

Work, work, work, work, work.

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