Ice cream and other news

I have not had anything from an ice-cream truck in six years. That never actually occurred to me until now. Hm. Well, I haven't until today. Dad saw the ice-cream truck going by on the main road, and he flagged it down. And the driver saw him! So now we are all happy and full of ice cream from the ice-cream truck. :-)

Expect another chapter of The Wizard of Paws posted within the week. 

Expect the end of the Story of Nonsense...posted...within...the month?

And remember when I would post about how The Wizard of Oz was going about once a week and then stopped? Well, here's what's happened:

• The Wizard of Oz opens in 9 days! 
• The T-shirts have been made and given out to those who ordered them. Apparently, you could put more than your name on the back...only we didn't notice that. The producer's shirt says "Don't make me call my flying monkeys". 
• Having rehearsals on a Saturday morning is a bad idea. There was a pathetic amount of energy in a couple of scenes, and a lot of the cue lines were missed by the trees. 
• Tech week, when we rehearse for the whole week at the actual theater, is next week. 
• We've (the trees) started rehearsing with tree branches, only there aren't quite enough branches to go around. So grab some early, or you're stuck with a little vine with an acorn on it in one hand, and a little bush in the other. I know from experience. 
• We've also begun rehearsing with Toto, though she (the actor for Toto is a girl) keeps running offstage. 

Anything else posted might be a spoiler, so just wait until the play is over. 

Also, I can do an almost-headstand now! My record is four seconds. I can't do a cartwheel to save my life. 

Story of Nonsense, part II

Steve grabbed a strawberry with his paws and began to nibble.
"Om nom nom n--"
He jerked his head up, alert. Sally had entered the kitchen, although she was distracted with washing dishes for the moment. Steve carefully picked up the strawberry in his mouth and raced back for his house, where he quickly snarfed down the rest of the strawberry. Tasty. But then it occurred to Steve.
"What about dinner?"
So, back he went to the kitchen.

Steve repeated the process of running up the tablecloth and gathering the strawberries until he ran out of room in his house. He was rather quick at this, and Sally never noticed. Until she turned around and discovered that the plate of strawberries was empty and a mouse was currently chasing one across the floor to a hole in the wall.

Sally screamed and fainted, causing a small earthquake that caused Steve to fall over, accidentally kicking the strawberry underneath the fridge. "Drat!" He squeaked, but at the moment he was more concerned about what would happen when the fancy family found their maid in a dead faint on the fancy floor in the fancy kitchen.

Story of Nonsense, part I

Once upon a time, there was a little mouse named Steve, with little whiskers and little grey ears. Sometimes he wore a little pair of spectacles and a tiny waistcoat, but only on the holidays. Everybody loved Steve, simply because he was a mouse. (Or, at the very least, everybody Steve knew, who would be a little songbird named Gwen and a dandelion who didn't talk much.)

Except for Sally, who was a musophobiac.
This would not be a problem if Steve didn't live in Sally's kitchen. He lived there because Sally was a maid in a fancy kitchen, cooking meals for a  fancy family in a fancy household in a fancy neighborhood in a fancy... well, you get the idea. Steve had to live in the kitchen; all the food was there. Occasionally there was enough dropped tidbits of things that Steve could make a sandwich. Or a grilled cheese. Or, if he was terribly lucky, a salad! Steve was a fan of salads. Yum, yum, yum. Salads with cauliflower. Cauliflower for lunch and dinner...

 Steve blinked rapidly and shook his head, realizing he had been digressing. He had been writing his biography, which he did by using a pencil stub he'd found and holding it in his mouth. Steve examined his work... and remembered that he had no spelling ability whatsoever and that this method of writing was rather impractical. Steve shrugged and nibbled the bit of paper he was writing on to smithereens. There, he thought. Then he looked around his humble home inside the wall of the kitchen. He knew it might be a tad drab, considering how he didn't even have a matchbox to sleep in, but he was cozy.
& hungry. Very hungry. So hungry, he dared risk a trip to the kitchen for some scrounging. Sally had recently made breakfast for the fancy family, and Steve hoped for a smidgen of butter and a cracker, or perhaps some cookies. Yum, cookies. Steve loved cookies, too.

Steve poked his little nose outside of his home in the wall and twitched his little whiskers.
"Sniff sniff, sniff sniff."
He poked his head out.
Blink. 
He scampered insanely fast up the tablecloth and looked around cautiously. A bowl, some glasses, and--
Steve gave a squeak of joy. Could it be? Could it really be? A plate of fresh strawberries and bowl of lettuce stood within easy reach. But what was this? Steve heard Sally making her way towards the kitchen. Oh, lovely. What should I do now? Steve thought irritably. Run like double-greased lightning to get some fruit and veggies, risking getting my beautiful and mighty useful tail chopped off--or worse!-- by Sally, or run to the safety of my house, risking losing this wonderful feast?
Oh, whatever.
Steve raced for the fruit.