Sometimes in life you don’t always end up at your intended destination, but I’ve learnt recently that this isn’t always a bad thing.
As things turned out I’ve had a great week with a small community of mice known as The White Mice of Kullumpaura, how I managed to get here is something of a story in itself. Some months ago Winston developed a predictive text mechanism for the time machine which up until recently had been functioning without fault or error. However, that all shot to shit Monday morning when, having accidentally favoured his long distance over his reading glasses, Winston managed to spray the cogs with fry light chip oil instead of WD-40, the results of which ended me up in an unexpected destination opposed to my intended cultural tour of Kuala Lumpur.
The story or the Kullumpaurians is one even stranger than Winston’s chip fat debacle. Struck by lightening back in 1975 whilst at choir practice in their meeting hall, the previously multi-coloured Kullumpaura community awoke the next morning to find their fur white as snow, a genetic peculiarity that to this day presents itself in every successive generation.
Kullumpaura was bustling with activity when I arrived as the mice finalised preparations for the Harvest Festival in their new community hall. It was with some sadness that they had to say goodbye to their old meeting house when heavy rains and rising waters washed the riverside residence downstream back in August. Having been the site of the lightening strike the building had held a special historic place in their hearts but Lord Stoat came to the rescue by drawing up a tenancy agreement so the mice could use the old church on his estate. The new building has an upper floor, which the mice are excitedly developing into a community café and library.
I got talking to Lord Stoat and questioned the somewhat unusual friendly relationship twixt stoat and mouse. Apparently on that fateful night back in 1975 such was the ferocity of the lightening bolt that part of the meeting house roof collapsed, rushing to save their trapped friends and finding the fallen beams too heavy to lift by paw power alone, a desperate meeting of minds and communal willpower occurred. The mice discovered that if three or more individuals will an object to move in the same direction it does so without even the touch of a single paw. Whilst the mice only use their special powers in absolute emergencies, for some generations now stoats have favoured vegetable pot roast over mouse stew and dumplings.
New friends a plenty, I’ve returned to an apologetic Winston who couldn’t wait to show me his new pair of varifocals.
Hope you are well.
Morris would love to hear from you, so please feel free to hit the comments box and he’ll get back to you mouse style.
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