It’s always something of a nice surprise when you slip on a pair of trousers that you haven’t worn in a while and find a fiver in the back pocket or stick your hand between the cushions of the armchair on the hunt for a runaway piece of cheese and pull out, instead, a shiny pound coin.
Even nicer, was Millie’s experience last Thursday of finding an old envelope from 1936 containing a receipt and a wad of cash that had never been sent, one hundred pounds to be exact!
After calling the bank to enquire as to whether the old notes could be deposited in the Post Office Depot petty cash account and finding out that they could, Millie began to toy with the idea of the funds being put to a good cause. Over tea and biscuits, Gertrude was thinking about buying a new country dancing skirt, Millie thought about a new prop shaft for the Mouse Search and Rescue plane, and I was pondering whether or not deep fried seaweed would make a good pizza topping. Our thoughts, however, were rudely interrupted by a number of pictures falling from the office wall and crashing onto the floor as a frantic Maureen blasted through the door talking complete gibberish and demanding a crisis meeting.
Turns out, Eric’s plan to use boxes and bin liners, from office supplies, as sleeping quarters for his local Cub Scout group on their outward bound expedition that coming weekend had been the catalyst of Maureen’s afternoon meltdown. It didn’t take Millie long to put two and two together as she recalled the heavy rains of last Autumn flooding the basement and causing an awful stink about the depot as rotting canvas gave way to an unplanned fungus farm. “Seems we’ve found our good cause, ….” proclaimed Millie, as she picked up the phone to ask Eric to bring the delivery van round the front “…… a trip to Mousemart Adventure Supplies it is!”
Come Friday afternoon the 1st PO Depot Cub Scout Group were all eagerly assembled in the depot car park, wildly excited about their shiny new 10 man (mouse) tent.
Lucy, I must say, not having any prior experience of mouslings, I found them to be almost that of a subspecies from a different planet, rather than smaller versions of adult mice. On Saturday morning I awoke trapped in my sleeping bag after the little blighters surreptitiously put their emergency sewing kits to no good use over night. On Saturday evening, whilst taking part in a campfire talent contest for their Outdoor Challenge Award, Cuthbert Junior decided to delight our senses by farting the National Anthem through his woggle and blaming it on the beans. Which, give him his due, was pretty much note perfect. Come Sunday morning, relived to find my sleeping bag intact, I emerge wearing a pink frilly ladies nightie, which I most definitely hadn’t retired in.
By Sunday evening I confided to Eric my thoughts that perhaps the 1st PO Depot Cub Scout Group didn’t much like their new helper. However, Eric was quick to reply that I couldn’t be further from the truth. Apparently the cubs thought Mr Morris to be the best new Cub Scout Master they’d had in ages. The group’s decision being concluded mainly because I’d passed all my initiation challenges without shouting at them and also for setting up the ‘best zip wire ever’ despite it ending over a muddy puddle.
Pleased as I was with the mousling feedback, I decided to put my woodcraft skills into action on Sunday evening so as to ensure no further nighttime capers before dawn!
Hope this letters finds you well.
Have you ever been on an outward bound camping expedition? Did it turn out anything like Morris’s mousling Cub Scout trip?
Morris would love to hear from you, so please feel free to hit the comments box. Morris will get back to you mouse style.
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