Day Seventy Three

Furrgus 

We were all up early so we could wish Our Niamh a very happy birthday.

But she was out the door before dawn walking over to her university. My goodness.

Such is the life of a student.

After her breakfast Mrs. T and her car were off to start more Christmas shopping.

We wished that Emmet Taylor fellow a happy birthday last night before we went on early evening patrol.

We passed on our best warm thoughts and hoped his room was warmer than we fear. 

As it is still unseasonably cold over there.

And Cousin Morag was absolutely disgusted to learn there was not even one fireplace in Emmet’s apartment.

As she was going to send them a hundred weight of coal as a birthday present. Ahh well. 

Such is the life of students. 

And when we got home, lo and behold the Christmas tree was up.

Mr. and Mrs. T did it with our our help. 

They took off the net covering the tree so it could unfurl itself.

So this morning our friend Mister Oughterard Otter had to move to make room. 

Mrs. T brought birthday decorations for our young lady’s birthday. As it should be.

While it is very sunny it was deceptively cold today.

So we went on patrol with just a touch of brandy in our coffee flasks.

The cinnamon muffins at Bridgehead were hot out of the oven when we arrived. 

By the time we got home Mr. T was on his second espresso. 

Unfortunately we had eaten all the muffins on the way home, as protection again the cold wind. 

Dugal says it starts in up in Quittinirpaaq and ends here, gathering speed as it comes.

We think he used the opportunity to showcase his pronunciation of Inuktitut.

And we suspect that his comments on the wind would not withstand a qualified meteorologist’s assessment. 

Be that as it may it was cold enough. 

So suffice it to say there were no muffins to share. Which was a bit embarrassing let me tell you. 

Mrs. T stopped by for a quick bite to eat and to unladen the car of Christmas cheeses.

And an ice cream birthday cake. My word.

Then she was off so Mr. T could tidy the kitchen. 

But he had a Poppy special to marshal his resolve before doing that.

We all have to be much neater nowadays without Miss Poppy to clean up after us. 

When Mrs. T got home again, she put up the birthday decorations. 

And Craig addressed Our Emmet’s present to the suddenly older Niamh.

He said it was in keeping with Emmet’s philosophy concerning presents. 

We think he was just lazy.

Mrs. T got Our Niamh and Miss Lily from the university. 

The party people arrived soon after. We hid. 

Many years of experience have trained us to a fine point where young ladies parties are concerned. 

So off to the basement for us. Perhaps a quick game of shuffleboard will be attempted.