My New Roommate

As I sit here with a mug of hot chocolate, wondering why on earth it's gone so freezing, but kind of enjoying the fact that I can curl up on my nice cosy bed, Otis is banging on the window to come in. It's kind of funny lately; since it's gone so cold, every time he goes out (he's made friends with the local owl club not too far from our house), he gets icicles on his ears and under his beak because he flies so high. He doesn't appreciate me laughing at him though and when he comes home, he sits by the radiator trying to warm up. He keeps talking about a snail friend of his, Mergetrerd Poot - apparently there's a court case going against him for illegal lodging. I told Otis I would offer a place here for him to stay, but it's not my place so I can't. Not sure that comment was received too well.

Recently I made friends with Sebastian; he likes to hide under my bed and explores my room on occasion, especially when I haven't tidied up. I sent a picture to the Admiral, but the reply 'Dude that is so not nice...' implies that he thinks my new friend is pretty ugly (see what I did there!? It wasn't even intentional until I saw it myself!!!). 

I haven't introduced Otis to Sebastian yet, I'm a bit scared he'll eat him, so I'm trying to figure out the safest way for Sebastian to get to know Otis' caring side. It's a tough one, especially since Otis seems to think he needs to winter feed himself - that means stuffing himself with anything he can get his beak on, especially anything that moves and crawls and wriggles, including maggots. He's been hiding under the leaves in the park and when he comes home I always have to tell him to have a bath cause he stinks and is usually covered in bugs and muck. I don't know what's come over him lately, he always used to hate getting mucky, but since we've moved to the House on the Hill he's been acting strange. Perhaps it's because we're closer to the moon. I will have to do some research on it.

Before I go (weekend hibernation) - how amazing are the blue Argos aliens!? I am so going to meet them. Maybe see them live when they go on tour. I wonder which planet they're from.

Lately ...

As Christmas draws nearer, Otis and I have become very busy with sorting out presents and thinking about what people might want us to give them, and trying to figure out where we actually live! We've moved around so many times these past few months, we've become very confused, and sometimes accidentally speak Welsh and German and English and some other language which we can't quite place, all at the same time! I guess that would be WeGermish (and some other language which we can't quite place).

The other week I came home from a long day of existing, and couldn't find Otis anywhere. He appeared the next day (slightly more grumpy than usual) and said he'd been knocking on my window all night long, why hadn't I opened up for him? Turns out, he'd given up, and had flown away to a field to do some mouse hunting before returning home - only he'd gone to the wrong house originally without realising it. I just hope it wasn't one of the neighbours; unless it was the blue Argos aliens, I'm pretty sure anyone would be pretty angry having to put up with such a racket all night long!

Speaking of the blue Argos aliens, I've decided to write to Argos asking if they wouldn't mind telling me where they live. I so hope they are my neighbours, I feel like there's a connection that I can't quite explain. Maybe they're the creatures we got our DNA from when it was carried through space a million billion trillion years ago and landed on planet earth before evolving into us. It would be good to find out how the family's doing. I haven't told Otis yet, I think he'll be really happy, seeing as he's probably more related to them than I am. This evolution theory really does make sense when applying it to the blue Argos aliens.

I haven't had time to work on my project of studying Otis' brain, it's proven difficult when it's hard to find, and in addition, we've both been very busy, trying to remember which house we live in, who we know, and what we know, and then figuring out what day it is. All quite complicated as you can tell. We thought maybe a holiday on the moon would help, but then we discovered they don't sell crackers up there, or chocolate. I can imagine there are lots of mice with all the cheese - Otis would like that, but I'm not sure what their laws are.

So all in all very busy, and a busy week ahead of us. Otis would like to say hi to everyone - when I write on here, he gets very excited because he thinks he's famous. Wouldn't that be nice!?

Hope you all have a good week, don't get into mischief! 

Autumn outings

Otis has decided to hibernate early this year, and so my outing to Nottingham took place on my own. I was very privileged to stay at the Mables with Mr. and Mrs and Little Mable. When Little Mable was even littler - so Mrs Mable tells me - the family moved house, and little Mable was so overwhelmed by the amount of rooms he said to his Mummy; "now you and Daddy don't have to share anymore!!!"

I was more than happy to spend a day in the wonderful city, becoming a chocolate utopian, drinking new tea in a hippie tea place, seeing lots of vintage shops and listening in to people's conversations, talking to strange strangers and discovering that I'm just as strange, and pondering where I'll be in the future now that Otis has decided to hibernate earlier.

Obviously, his hibernation didn't last long; I have just arrived back, and as I was tiptoing into my room (he was perched on the wardrobe), he peeked a look at me through one of his eyes. I guess he must have thought that I wasn't looking, or he didn't care that I'd seen, because he closed it slowly and when I tried speaking to him just didn't respond. Then I turned my attention to unpacking, and he sighed deeply and said, "You're back then." and plodded to the top shelf of the bookshelf, where he's been watching me ever since. I usually talk to myself anyway, so I've been rattling off my thoughts, and he doesn't seem impressed (I've been considering voting myself as Prime Minister in the next election but think it's probably not worth risking making promises about chocolate and then not being able to implement them; not only would I lose the trust of my people, but it would also be of no great benefit to myself!).

Anyway, I think before I go I'd like to mention that more spies have been exposed and there seems to be a pattern - most dads 50+ who disguise themselves as business people/ normal men who do office work for 'normal' companies are usually not what they seem! So beware folks, you may be surrounded by spies. Whether for your safety or not, I'm not sure, but will definitely keep you posted!

Good night for now, sweet dreams!

Shaun

Otis and I went home over the weekend. We have many homes, that's because we have many families and get bored very easily with bathrooms. But one of our favourite homes is where there's lots of nature and sheep and hills. This weekend, we weren't disappointed. We had the joy of seeing Dylan and meeting his Awesome Person, and then we all went for a walk along the moors. When we reached the top we stopped to have a drink, and the world was a good place which was nice because I had begun to get grumpy and fed up with walking in the freezing cold. As we walked back, we passed a lot of sheep and they all stood there staring at us, chewing gum or whatever it is they chew, as if they were the king of their castle. I really wasn't impressed by them; thought they were chavy, but they must have taken a liking to us, as two days later, they appeared at the doorstep (please see picture)!

Don't worry, I didn't let them in, especially not that Shaun, I hear he's a rioter and trouble-maker and I don't trust him an inch! Otis on the other hand is quite charmed by the sheep, he said he was locked out the house one night by accident (I did tell him to be back BEFORE the moon came out!), and so he flew around for ages, looking for the ruins of his old uncle Gerbert's house, who was supposedly a bit of a celebrity around home in his time. The Settlers have never heard of him though, and Otis never found the house, but as he flew over the moors, he made friends with a few of the sheep and is very likely to fly back within the next week. He was a bit sad to go back to our other home, as was I, but we are both very happy that we have lots of homes and can make friends with all the sheep across Britain.

While we were home with the Settlers, I received some news from the King (of Scotland that is). One of his tenants has been trying to conquer the throne. I shouldn't really be telling you this as it's all top secret and what-not, but I don't suppose you'll remember much of this anyway, if you're reading it in the first place, as I'm sure you have a lot more exciting things to do. And if you are bored enough to be reading this, then be reassured that I am very grateful you are and you are an absolutely amazing reader and wonderful because of it! Anyway, I know the King isn't a spy, I checked, but I need to be careful with some other people as they are definitely spies. I don't think the Tenant is a spy, he is far too comfortable, but you never know.

And so the lesson for today is; beware who you say what to! I've been analysing the sheep picture and have come to the conclusion that one of them is a spy. My plans of further action have been established, but I will not release them on here, someone might just remember it.

Have a good week, and stay lovely.

Henry

A few days ago, we met Henry.
I'm not much of a cat person, and most cats are pretty boring, but Henry isn't normal and he's certainly not boring.
We were visiting a friend who will remain nameless - I don't think he's a spy, but there might be reason for him being searched for by spies, and I wouldn't want to put him in any danger. Certainly not if they were ninja spies, that usually doesn't go well.
Anyway, this is how Otis' first encounter with Henry went: "You know, I knew a cat once who looked just like you!" (Henry stares at him intensely, then miaows; I'm not entirely sure it was meant to be a word). Otis: "Can't you speak? Cat got your tongue? You're not much of a cat are you?" Henry gives him a long big grumpy stare with his massive eyes and bad-tempered face, then walks off.

Otis says he's never met a more obnoxious cat, but he keeps talking about him, so I believe Otis adores him. We will be visiting Henry again very soon, and then I will be able to get a better picture of what the two weirdest animals on the planet think of each other.

New Beginnings

As an update to life - although, please don't be insulted, I'm pretty sure your life is much more exciting than ours, and you're just reading this blog to be polite - Otis and I have emigrated. I guess we're allowed to say emigrate, as we left the land of dragons and are now in the land of gnomes.

It's pretty awesome so far, although we do miss our dragons, especially Ernibert. Have I told you about Ernibert? He claims to be the last dragon in Wales. He's not.

The move was quite crazy. On the way up (we went by coach), Otis insisted on sitting on the roof. After a long discussion with the coach driver, he got his way as usual, and so throughout the whole journey, we spoke through the roof. As soon as we entered the land of gnomes, it started raining - we had been expecting it, but Otis forgot, and got soaked through!

Although we are familiar with the area around here, we are now living in an area that is quite new to us. We explored a bit the other day, and Otis flew high above the trees and streets and houses and when he came back, he said it was all ugly and grey from the top. I asked how high he flew, and it would appear he flew above the clouds without realising it (you'd think you'd know when you're flying through a cloud, but not Otis!) and so he thought the whole place was grey!

Tomorrow we are going to the big centre of knowledge where I've enrolled to learn all about stuff, and Otis has decided he might want to learn about stuff too, although he told me that he knew pretty much everything already anyway. I asked him if he could tell me what pi was, and he said that of course he knew, but he wasn't going to tell me because people might think him a show-off. I doubt he understands the meaning of show-off, seeing as he's told everyone in the radius of 10 miles of our new home that he did a study on the King Owls of France.

As regards the brain study, unfortunately I wasn't able to bring my Owscannerbrain as it's quite heavy and I was scared it might break. I will however be working with some very clever people soon, and am hoping that we could maybe work together in finding out more of this strange little owl called Otis.
He's certainly very adorable. And now I will go and watch him in secret, as he tries to make friends with the house cat. He's telling her about the time he accidentally mistook a badger for a mouse ... where will this end!???

More diary entries

I think I spotted Otis somewhere on the hills, so I'm not so worried now, and have also found some more diary entries that made me giggle; I hope they make you giggle just as much :-):

"2nd September 2012

I nearly beat Fudge up yesterday, he's so annoying. I was just sitting in my old spot in the woods, and he comes flying over with his mates, and tells me that I can't sit there because it's his spot. As I proceeded to tell him about Ferdinand the Great of Swansea, the stupid pigeon rudely interrupted and said he wasn't interested in any of my made up facts and that if I didn't budge, he'd shoot me. I just looked at him indignantly and took off to the river to see if there was anything interesting to eat, having decided not to stoop to their level. But, I have made it my concern to cause an uprising and get this matter sorted. The woods should not be allowing such insolent beings in, they're a danger to all beings and birds, and need to be punished!

4th September 2012

Having discovered a potion to make me faster, I am planning a trip away to collect all the ingredients. Looks like lots of berries are involved. I'm not telling Frank, she'll come up with some good excuse to stop me from completing this mission.

Also, I have discovered that my great great Aunt Meryl is still alive. Must visit her soon before she dies. Unfortunately, I have no excuse not to go. Oh well, maybe I will gain some valuable information as to how to get rid of pigeons. 

 

 

 

Berry picking

Yesterday was a busy day; the hedge in the front of our house needed trimming (looots!), so we did. While I was pulling away brambles and getting scratched and bitten by thorns and thistles, I noticed Otis picking at some plant. Going over to see what mischief he was involved in this time, I noticed that he was eating berries - the red ones that you're not meant to eat. So I said to him, "Otis, you can't eat those, they're poisonous!" You will hopefully agree with me that this was a well-meaning way of looking after him, but Otis didn't see it like that. He glared at me and said something about him being an owl longer than I've been one, and then he flew away. That was yesterday and he's still not come back, I'm slightly concerned. Hopefully he's found some pigeon friend or something who will help him if he needs it.
Anyway, I'll keep you updated. If you see him, please let me know.

Diary entries

I stole Otis' diary (shh, don't tell him!) and found this hehe (I corrected the spelling mistakes and I just couldn't figure out what was meant by some of his sentences, so I just wrote what I thought Otis would have written, even if it makes little sense):

"23rd August 2012
Tweehoo, Fred is still gone, I think she's coming back next year, so I'm going to hang out with the pigeons a bit in the woods. They're awesome, Fudge used to be in the army but got kicked out for doing handstands when he was on duty. Poor thing, I think he was quite devastated when they did, he keeps talking about invading the squirrels' territory and shooting maggots. I think he's glad I'm here though, I can't wait to teach him a thing or two, he can thank his stars!
I went for a soar on the clouds in the other direction today and lost my way because the signs were all in Welsh, so I asked a badger which way. He said something but I couldn't figure out what it was, so I carried on for a bit as I was in no hurry. I found a massive lake that goes beyond what the eye can see, the air tasted weird and there were a lot of seagulls flying around. I hate seagulls, they're a common bunch and should be shot! I wish I was young enough to join the army, this country needs a bit of discipline, especially in tackling those seagull invaders! Luckily I found a pigeon who is acquainted with Fudge, so he showed me the way home. I need to ask Fudge to show me around as I have no idea where I'm going. In fact, I might write a letter of complaint to the government - these signs will not do! They also need to build more shops and perhaps a pub or two more. It's important to stay hydrated throughout the day, that's what Fred says. Anyway, got to go, Fudge is calling, I think he's in a spot of trouble and needs my help! Traaaa.

28th August 2012
Fred has come back and turned into Frank, though to be honest, I can hardly tell the difference. It seems there's a need to be Frank in the air, but it's all nonsense if you ask me! It also appears to be quite contagious, Fudge told me to go away and stick my head in a rabbit hole, just seconds after I'd saved him from a nest of maggots! Such ungrateful behaviour does not go in my good books, and so I am gladly staying away from the pigeons. At least, until one of them comes back and apologises, then I might contemplate paying them a quick visit. They're all a bunch of lunatics and not worth mentioning in a history book!
Anyway, got to go, just running the bath and I'm not sure how it switches off. Traaaa."

Haha, this is all I found, lovely Otis has only recently started writing a diary, so I've put it back where I found it and will be looking in regularly to see what he's written. This might also help with my quantitative analysis of his brain. Perhaps someone will even want to publish the report when it's finished. I very much doubt it though the way things are going (hence the need to be Frank). Otis, on the other hand, is having the time of his life! He claims to have become General in the army. I'm pretty sure that's not true though, as he's the thickest owl around and quite clumsy, especially when it comes to aiming at things.
Let's hope this next week will be full of exciting things for Otis to do so we can have a giggle!

5 a Day

First off, apologies for the previous post. Apparently Otis had been planning a getaway ('getaway from what?' I asked him - 'getaway from youhoo!' he replied), and the message had meant to say this:

"Instruction.
Ok, so I hacked into Bekah's account and am planning a getaway. Who's with me???? The ship leaves tomorrow at 6am Greenwich meantime. Report to captain Burble.
Over and out."

I had a quiet word with him and a psychology session on top of that (for him, not for me), and I think we are getting to the bottom of his weird behaviour - the childhood trauma with the bats plays a crucial part in Otis wanting to get away, but because the re-occurrence of bats a few weeks ago was so traumatic, he has blocked out the memory, and now thinks that he hates me. A projection of trauma onto the owner is not uncommon with owls.
So that's Otis.

Now to my trip to Stoke. Plenty happened, and Otis was not there, it was so nice (while I was away, I think he hid in the woods with the pigeons, his new 'buddies').
Anyway, I spent some time with Opium, and it was A-M-A-Z-I-N-G! This is what happened.

We were having our five a day and happened to be in The Glebe, sitting in the corner, overhearing a conversation of some guys talking about what was happening whilst they were shaving - I don't know what happened, we giggled too much - contemplating the fact that it's great how we can lead healthy yet jolly lives as we sipped the grapes that would so graciously prevent us from developing blocked arteries and coronary heart diseases.
It's strange how Opium and I have only just discovered we're twins, we have the same nose and everything! OK, after my nose job they may differ slightly (my brother did a good job, I have to say, though his knuckle marks are still visible, but he said they'd grow away soon), but that's like saying we can;t be twins because we differ by a beauty spot!
It's clear now that we can be nothing but twins, as we often don't speak, just staring at each other, and yet we can communicate mistake free!!!
Like, Opium communicated to me about the fact that wine makes all thongs philosophical, and as we walked back to our abode, I have to say, thongs seemed to have a deeper meaning than usual.
Before we went home completely, we went to the park and watched some stars shoot around a bit, marvelled at their accurate aim, and wondered why they weren't in the olympics. I guess they're just humble.
The rest of my trip isn't really that exciting. I went to a course, met some other amazing people, had a fantastically exciting time before I was shipped off onto the coach back to Wales.

There is one more thing worth noting; my first coach was delayed by an hour, and I was worried that I'd miss my connection, as we were late for its departure. I decided not to worry, as there wasn't much I could do, and just prayed things would work out, whether that meant fixing things if I had missed the connection, or simply just enabling me that silly connection.
And what do you think happened? Pretty much all coaches were delayed by an hour, it was a bank holiday weekend which is what caused the delays I think. Praise the Lord, I had plenty of time before my connection was rescheduled to depart, and I was able to buy myself some lunch!

If there's one thing Otis and I agree on, then it's how awesome our Lord is. In fact, I think he (Otis) is just doing a joy flight outside to His glory! Silly, adorable owl!

Intrsuifgn

Ok so O hackef into Bejas'd account and am planing a gfetaway. WHos' wiht me????
The shpi leaves tomogwo ta 6ma gwenivhs meantime. Repotr ro captian Burble.
Oveer and ojut.

Adventures

So I've just come back from a trip to Stoke, and I guess I should tell you now; I may have 'accidentally' forgotten Otis in Wales. Someone observed that that didn't matter, because he can fly, but he never turned up and I'm quite glad - he's been a bit of a pain recently. I don't think his sense of direction is very good because when I came home, he was sitting on the top of my cupboard in my bedroom with ruffled feathers. He hasn't said anything, but I reckon he set off, trying to catch up on me, and started following the wrong national express couch. He's an owl, and even if he wasn't; everyone always finds a way home. It's a rule of nature.

Anyway, Otis is in a grump with me for having left him behind, but I have to say, it was nice to be away from him and his little temper tantrums. And I've finally managed to get him to let me use my new 'Owscannerbran' on him; it's a special scanner that scans brains, specifically designed for owls. I don't have much else to do here, so I thought I may as well get famous by winning a nobel prize for the assisting of the progression of science.

This is what Otis' brain looks like:

I have still to find out what parts serve which functions; it appears Otis' brain is very different from other owls, in fact, I am now not sure whether he is an actual owl or not, based on the images of his brain! This is turning out to be a very interesting project indeed!

Back to Stoke, I'm sure you're all burning to hear what happened without Otis. Well, I spent a lot of time with Opium. I don't know if I've told you the story about Opium and heaven? We were contemplating what heaven will be like, and she said, "It'll be like we're on drugs, but ... not." If being on drugs means giggling all the time and hugging everyone then I'm OK with that. So Opium and I went to the park and played on the swings and then we watched a few stars shoot by and it was all good fun - actually, it was pretty much like we were on drugs, but we weren't!

She told me about Barney the caterpillar and Nelly the ninja iguana - but more on that in another post :-)

Batman

It turns out the Teddy episode was all a big lie; Otis had 'accidentally' placed him in mysterious places so he would get in trouble - apparently, Otis doesn't like Teddy and was trying to get rid of him. As if Teddy's are real! Don't worry, I didn't fall for it though, and have banished Otis to the woods for a week and a half. I hope he gets really terrified there - a few nights ago, there was a bat in my room, poor thing, and Otis got really scared and hid under the bed! He says it was some childhood issue he had where his brother locked him in a room filled with bats, and they mocked him till dawn, threatening to eat his liver. Ever since then, his insides have clung onto each other so badly it hurts when he thinks about it (see Figure 1).

Figure 1: X-ray of Otis' insides after the first bat incident, courtesy of here.

So it's been a fun week. Next week, we're headed back to Stoke to visit. I asked Otis if he could fly me there, but he says I've eaten too much healthy stuff lately and weigh too much. Again, not quite sure where he gets his information from - I suspect he's been watching TOWIE through the neighbour's windows whilst lip reading everyone because he has an inner ear effect. That would also explain the other day, when I said, "I'm just going to watch How I Met Your Mother" and he thought I said, "I'm just going to bet my brother." He still doesn't believe me that I don't have a brother.

Oh, wait. I have two. And as it happens it was Little Brother's birthday the other day. Happy Birthday, Little Brother! Otis says he has a present for you (I think it's a dead mouse, so just smile and look enthusiastic).
Better go, I've only had three cups of tea today.

Chaos

There has been a bit of chaos here lately. Otis claims that Teddy has lost his mind. I actually caught him perched in a tree (Otis, that is), and when I asked him what he was doing, he said that he was waiting because he just knew that Teddy was up to no good.

Sure enough; here's the evidence!!!

Teddy appears to be going through a rebellious phase - either that, or he just likes hanging upside down. It will be interesting to see how Otis reacts, and a valuable bit of information for my 'Otis brain mission'.

Identity

OK, so just to clarify, when Otis goes in a huff, it's usually not my fault. I say usually because most of the time it is. If you know what I mean.

So, someone asked me what colour Otis was. I can't tell you what I said, because I've caused enough trouble as it is! You see, according to Otis, someone might steal his identity and steal his bank account. I'm not entirely sure if he knows what a bank account is, or in fact where he gets his knowledge from. It's all a bit distorted. So I told him that you can't steal a bank account, which of course led to another huff on Otis' side.

After he flew off to the woods, I tried to write a song about blue skies and crazy owls and identity, but I haven't quite adjusted to the off-tuneness (that I LOVE, I'd like to add!) of my piano.

Oh, there's another thing I really need to talk about as well. I think Otis might believe that we still live in our old other house. I can't write the address because I'm pretty sure some of you are spies. You know who you are. (Even though I'm aware that some might be abroad, holidays and whatnot, I still can't risk it. They might read it when they get back. You know who you are. For those of you who aren't spies - I hope you know who you are too - yes, spies have holidays!). SO while my life, and Clatalie's life, and Liz's life is totally changing because we've moved on, metaphorically and geographically, Otis apparently lives in his own little time and place bubble. I found out when he was talking about his family. He was saying about how his grandpa used to hide books in a box upstairs, and that we could go and have a look in a bit if I liked. I was quite confused at first, as Otis has never been to Wales before we moved here, but then it struck me that the 'NEW PLACE' in his brain must either be missing, or that it's just disconnected from the rest of his brain. So I've made it my mission to find out more about owl's brain, and in particular, Otis' brain. Perhaps I will find his true identity. Maybe I will see his thoughts, like in Harry Potter in the pensive sieve. Or maybe, it will just be brain. Either way, excitingly scientific stuff is soon to be discovered!

Yes, I definitely like life a little better now!

The Return

I was playing piano yesterday when Otis Burble flew in through the window. He mumbled something about the forest, and then perched on the back of a chair, staring into space with his eyes half closed. As I was removing some twigs and leaves that were stuck to his feathers, I asked him where he'd been and why he had come back. He said he couldn't tell me where he'd been, and he came back because he was craving crumpets and he missed the roses. I just nodded and smiled. Silly owl.

Memories ...

Summer is visiting Wales, just when we were getting used to the fact that winter was on its way. Not that we're complaining. Well, I'm not. Otis has disappeared for a few days; he says he's going on furlough and will be back soon, though if he discovers nice owls in the wood, he may stay a bit longer. I told him to please come back, that I would miss him, but not his grumpiness. He just stared at me. 

Oh, how times are changing. I remember the cold evenings when we would sit in the lounge, Clatalie, Otis and me, all snuggled up in a blanket, each in our own spot; Clatalie and I on the sofas, Otis perched on the mantle-piece, from which he had a good view of what was going on inside and outside. We would watch junk on the teli and talk. Sometimes we would talk serious stuff, but mostly we talked nonsense, falling about in giggles that made us want to live the student life forever and ever. 

Occasionally, there was a cat which roamed the alley way to the back of the terraced houses. He'd come and dance along the wall which separated our backyard from next door's, and peep in. He wasn't a big fan of Otis, nor was Otis a big fan of him, but most of the time, the cat would want to come in. It was times like these that Clatalie would look at my with bright eyes, and say, "Pleeeeaaase can we have a kitten?" And I would reply, gently but firmly, "No, we're not having kittens!"

The conversation would then go on to getting a tiger. That I could live with, and our plans for the future, going against anything remotely related to reality, would flourish and lift our spirits, until we once again realised that there was a real world beyond the walls that protected us, and we both knew that one day, we would have to gather up all the courage we could find, and step out into that frighteningly big ocean.

And here we are. Though we haven't entered that world fully yet, we've stepped out. Partly because we had no choice, partly because - I think it is safe to say - we both knew that student life, though thrilling and exciting and full of good times, will eventually get extremely boring at some point. As well as being totally unsatisfying,  I don't want a boring life, and neither does Clatalie, I think. 

Yes, we WILL conquer the world. We will look forward, and expect a thousand new experiences that will be just as good as the times we lived in our house. But we will do so, knowing that there will always be those memories in our hearts.

Moving forward

Otis Burble set up his own facebook today. It was quite interesting to watch. Having nearly died yesterday of fright after a pheasant flew out of the field with a massive SQAUWK, I think he's more open to life now. I just hope he doesn't start smoking a pipe, because that's what Opium and I had planned on doing. We'll be the first witches in town - selling frogs legs and old women's warts as remedies for the plague and other interesting illnesses.

We certainly need a remedy for life; it's so strange not being in our old house anymore. I think Otis has experienced a bit of a culture shock; he has retreated to the attic with his new pigeon friend and talks about the valleys. Only today he said to me he thinks he is being watched by Welsh people. I shook my head in disbelief at this. Not that there aren't some funny characters here; the other day I was in Abergavenny and a man walked past, mumbling to himself, "I'm sure they've misspelt it!" But to think that they would take the effort of watching Otis Burble!? Time will tell whether he is a threat to this strange culture or not. In the meantime, I am thinking up plans in case 'stuff' happens when we are out and about.


Here's one of them (I can't tell you about all of them; some of you might be spies):
THE DITCH PLAN

• I imagine I am walking the Welsh roads of Britain; it's trying it's best to be a bit sunny, and there is a bit of a wind . 
• Suddenly, there is a gun shot.
• Luckily I have assessed the area, and, grabbing Otis Burble by the tail, jump into the closest ditch, rolling into a ball and trying not to breathe.
• Whilst rolled up, I dig for one of the devices that I have set up all around the area which will give off a signal to someone who can help us (at this point, you may be asking yourself if it would not be easier just to use my mobile phone - rest assured, dear reader, I did think of this, but was reminded of the lack of development in technology, such as providing signal in remote places. I think they do it on purpose; I'm sure there are spies around here).
• After a couple of hours, I expect help will have arrived; if not, then we must turn to THE DITCH TUNNEL PLAN, which I cannot explain here for legal reasons.

So there you have it; just in case you were worried for our safety, you can ease your mind, knowing that nothing can happen to us so long as we plan ahead, and of course, trust God - He even loves crazy old Otis Burble, how could anything happen with God on our side!

The significance of a moment

Otis Burble asked me what the significance of a moment is. So I told him that there are two different moments, and they differ in length. He asked me why, so I told him that if we live in the moment, that moment slips through our fingers like dust. If we are not living in the moment, we are either living in the past or in the future, and the moment freezes up like ice, until it melts under the warmth of our attention. The moment that we lose is easily regained in the next moment, and in the next, so it is never really lost. But the moment that we hang on to can become heavy and a burden.

I ate a chocolate after that, and waited for my fluffy owl to say something. When I looked up he had blinked a tear. I asked him what was the matter. He replied, "the pain is echoed off these walls, bouncing back at me and growing ever louder. Wherever you go, that echo will be like a scar which reminds you of the battle wounds that you did not have to endure, if you had only let go of that moment."

With that I left, because he's a silly owl who thinks he's all wise and sometimes he is and sometimes he isn't, but I just wish he'd said something funny!


Here's a joke because I guess you were expecting a funny story (thanks Otis!):
How do Welsh people eat cheese?
Caerphilly!

The Thoughtful One

It is strange how life spans out, forming patterns and lines that we never expect, spreading out to become a picture we have never seen before. And things fit together because when you're painting a picture, there is no room for something new where there is already something else.

I was reminiscing with Otis Burble earlier on, and I was telling him where his name came from. Even though he is of the firm belief that he was born in Cambridge and grew up in an upper class family, having inherited his name from his father, as is owl tradition, with the name of the river closest to his birth town, there remains another story which is much truer than his own. His own does exist, by the way, because he is of course a real owl and has a real history and a real memory, without which he would be a useless owl!

And now I remember, in a blur, the day Otis Burble was born. His portrait was complete, and I remember a feeling of great urgency to name him. So Clatalie and I, in that crucial moment in history, named him 'Otis' (Clatalie) and 'Burble' (me) to call into existence the Otis Burble we know today. I must not let him read this, or he might have a fit. Like in Doctor Who, revealing time to someone who is totally messed up time-wise, and oblivious to the predicament they may find themselves in, it is best to leave him thinking that he is a perfectly normal owl with a perfectly normal owl history. To me he is not perfectly normal, he is amazingly crazy and utterly bonkers, and the best thing is, he doesn't know how much he makes me laugh! Where would we be without Otis Burble?

This memory, and saying goodbye to so many people today has led me to look back on the path I have taken. The roads I have chosen have led to places that I could still leave by taking other turnings, and I thank God for that option! There is always a choice to turn back to the good ways, the sensible ways.

And as I look back, I am so grateful for the opportunities and the blessings I have experienced; the wisdom I have gained from my mistakes is much greater than the pain those mistakes have caused, and that must surely be a most valuable to hold within my heart.

And so I have reached a point - Otis obviously reached this point long before his birth, he is, after all, a wise old owl! - a point where I can finally look up and out onto this  beautiful world we live in. And it is colourful, because there are so many people out there, people with personalities and feelings, people making mistakes, making choices, making their lives worthwhile because they are learning and turning each moment into an opportunity. I know the excitement and joy to be greater than the pain and fear that we often mistakenly let reign within our souls.


On a lighter note, I have made a pact with Boris Romulus. He is to go to America and convince every American that he always wears a top hat and a monocle, that he, and every other British person, is related to the Queen, and that he will reconquer and reclaim what is British.
I'm sure something else happened that I'm meant to tell you about, but I've forgotten. Other than that we made gingerbread men at the group of someone we really wanted to meet from the Bible. I made Noah, because I would LOVE to have a really long chat with him and his experiences with God and the ark and the people around him. How did God speak to him? How did he know it was God? Where did he store the ark while he was building it? What did his friends say? What did his family say? What colour did he paint the ark? It's probably the most barmiest story in the Bible, and that's why I love it!

Kidnapped

What an interesting yesterday! Because Otis Burble was still sulking, and was in no way moved to talk, I decided to spend the day away from him - a little space would do him good, I thought.

So I went to see a castle and an abbey with Boris Romulus, an eccentric person, very much obsessed with freedom - but I will not go into too much detail because I think he might be a spy. When I shared my concerns with him, he assured me that he wasn't a spy, but I said that if he were a spy, that's the answer he would be giving me. I've decided to take that as proof that he's a spy, and will maintain cautious contact with him in future.

Inside the ruins of the castle grounds, we were attacked by invisible attackers, so we had cream tea, then Boris started doing that thing where he thinks he's a different person (I must remember to buy him name tags), so I decided to smuggle out and we went home.

The invisible attacks lasted throughout the night and most of today, which makes me suspect that Boris Romulus definitely must be a spy because he was only attacked slightly, and was perfectly fine today. I really need to find out what's going on. Just hope he doesn't read my blog.

Opium called round today, and we talked about heaven. She said, "It'll be like we're on drugs, but ... not." I thought that was quite a wise thing to say. After that we went to Tesco's and played with the plungers, it made us giggle a lot.

Otis Burble opened an eye at me today when I offered him a cookie crumb. They're his favourite and I think he's beginning to forgive me. To think, all I said was 'purple snail', and it's the worst grump he's been in since forever!


Here's a picture of the castle and one of the abbey, in case you were wondering if I really went to the castle and the abbey. I did, I have legs and eyes, and I wouldn't think of lying to you.

I'd like to leave you with an important message I've learnt today: Friends are important. Family is a privilege. Cherish them both, for they may not last forever. Love is an aspect of life that we sometimes take for granted. But what if we took delight in each moment we are blessed with spent with each person we love? In taking, we are giving; in giving, we are taking. That's more amazing than chocolate ;-).

Adventure Life

So today has been quite a busy day, baby-sitting the world's most amazingly crazy kid, then getting loooooaaaads of stuff done on my long list of things to do. I did that thing where I'd just finished a task but it wasn't on my list so I added it just so I could tick it off! I can imagine Otis' look if he knew. Luckily he hasn't woken up since he went into a huff with me yesterday.

It appears I have re-entered the real world, finally getting loads of stuff done because I can't stand being alone and doing nothing all day; the house is so empty without Clatalie or Liz. It's a good job I have pretty much planned the rest of my week! Thanks to Boris Romulus and Roro, as well as various other people who have managed to brighten up my week.

The prospect of having to enter the REAL real world has put a damper on things though; life was one big party when I was an official student, now it's just quiet. How do people make it to their middle-ages? I think I might fall over for boredom soon! Which means I need a job quickly, or some more chocolate. I'd take both if I could.

I've created a list of things to do to stop me feeling like a flattened flannel:

1. Eat lots more chocolate
2. Eat lots of fruit because the lots of chocolate I've just eaten will give me spots; fruit will counteract
3. Write a depressing song, then a nice one just to feel the contrast
4. Youtube human heart operations and other fascinating things
5. Youtube junk like weird kids and the scariest Britain's Got Talent contestants
6. Smoke a pipe
7. Buy a pipe
8. Create a plan of action, involving lots of interventions initiated by Dr. Hill and ending in becoming friends with Lily, Marshall, Ted, Robin, Barney, whoever ends up marrying Robin (possibly Barney?), whoever ends up marrying Barney (possibly Robin?), whoever ends up marrying Ted (???), and of course Marvin Waitforit Ericson.
9. Crochet a granny square blanket in lots of different colours
10. Read a funny book

I've just realised I've left one of THE MOST IMPORTANT things out - drinking tea! But then again, that happens regardless, so I'm off to make a cuppa. See you soon!

Reality

So Clatalie left on Saturday, and now the house is empty. Otis Burble and I have experienced a few scary moments, but luckily we'd remembered to lock both doors, so we were slightly relieved, until we remembered that ghosts aren't restricted by walls and doors ... we got over it and have been silence-listening; it's a game, a bit like cloud watching where you see pictures in the clouds, we were listening for words in the silence. I'm pretty sure I heard the words 'purple snail', but Otis disagrees and has been in a huff with me ever since, so I couldn't tell him about my experience at the hospital yesterday. I went to visit the perfusion department, and got to go into theatre, watch bypass surgery and see a real heart!!! It was fascinating, I so want to work there now! I had to wear scrubs and a cap and mask, it felt AWESOME!

So I'm on a high this week, although it's very quiet and lonely without Liz and Clatalie. Otis and I have been trying to get some jobs done, like put the bin out, the only problem being that I can't find the bin. It just seems to have disappeared. I'm pretty sure now that the bins around here have minds of their own. Once, a bin attacked me (and this is a true story). I was trying to convince it that it needed to go home, to the safety of our back yard, and it just jumped on me! So I'm thinking up some safety mechanisms and will shortly be informing the council of the irresponsibility of giving out real bins. Alive bins I mean.

Here's a picture of words in the silence.

The list ...

... of things that make us incredibly happy.

1. When TBBT or HIMYM appears on teli.
2. Sweets and chocolate.
3. When Opium comes round to watch a film with us.
4. Stumbling.
5. Tea or coffee, or hot chocolate, or in Clatalie's case, squash from Sainsbury's.
6. Union Jack patterned items.
7. When someone shows they love us by sending us a text.
8. Being silly.
9. Playing lillypad in the lounge where the cushions are safe and you have to jump from pad to pad to avoid being eaten by the crocodiles.
10. Creating plans that are set in stone concerning which rich man we will marry and what our castles will look like.

Some stories

It's now 00:42, which means it isn't yesterday anymore, but today, so I can officially write a new blog post without looking like a sad freak who has nothing better to do with their time than post blog posts. The truth is that there is so much to write about the happenings in and around our house, that there just isn't enough time to type it all up and then make it look pretty, and then make it sound like we shouldn't be locked up, and then make it identity safe. Like the time I told some stranger that Clatalie was in actual fact called Sharon. In my defense, it had to be done, there was just no room for any other kind of reaction.

Anyway, here's what happened today. Our other housemate, Liz, called the emergency gas because our street has been smelling of gas for weeks now, and after I had had a weird dream in which I could smell gas in our house, and she had watched a scary programme in which a house blew up because of gas, she decided it would be safer to be on the safe side. OK, she may not have known about the dream, but still. It was a bit of a weird coincidence!
So Mr. Gasman arrived, and I think he scared Otis Burble a bit, because Otis Burble hasn't quite been himself today. He murmured that he was going into owl hibernation, but I told him that there was no point, because we'll all have moved out in two weeks and he may as well stay up for the fun while he can. He just blinked at me and I haven't quite figured out what the blinking means, so I couldn't tell you what he meant by it.

That was it really, I don't know what Mr. Gasman found, and seeing as Clatalie has been packing all day, I guess not much else excitement has happened in our strangely quite corner of the world. As we were watching teli tonight, we told each other why How I Met Your Mother or The Big Bang Theory was better than the other, and have made a very interesting discovery: we both really like both shows, but for me, How I Met Your Mother wins, and for Clatalie, The Big Bang Theory wins. Why? Because the difference in the theme tunes is that TBBT has words in it and HIMYM doesn't! My verbal memory is rubbish, so singing ba - ba - baba - baaaaa is soooo much easier than singing ... well, I can't remember the words. And obviously, seeking a career that deals with words means that Clatalie has a bit of an affection for language, and a really good verbal memory.

Just in case you may not have found the above stories very interesting, here's a really interesting one. I was in the park recently with Abi, and we found a dead bee and put him on a bread crumb to make it look like he was eating it. I think if the bee had still been alive, we would have become very good friends, so I'm calling him Bizzy.

Topsy Turvy

I talked to Otis Burble the other day. He was awake for once, although I think most of the time he just appears to be asleep. I asked him what our world looked like from his world - perched on the wall. He sniffed, blinked then looked me in the eye as if I was stupid. I did eventually get him to talk to me sensibly, after offering him some of my chocolate. He doesn't eat; he doesn't do much for that matter, but he's a wise old owl, so he knows to appreciate what should be appreciated. My sacrificing chocolate for the sake of our friendship is definitely to be appreciated at a very deep level. Anyway, this is what he said:

"When I am rudely awakened by the monstrosity that you call laughter, I drag my old eyes open to a dismal world that is often dark and grey because you haven't bothered to turn the light on yet. That object in the corner radiates insulting colours of light (he means the teli) and blares out obscenities I do not understand. Besides the mess that you call a living room (it's not that bad, he's really exaggerating!), the only good things are the somewhat witty and partially wise quotes on your wall, and my friends next door - though they all look the same and have now flown away forever, I don't blame them (he's talking about our owl bunting that have now returned home with their rightful owner). And then there's you, who call yourselves human. Do you not see how weird you humans are, with your spotty clothes and weird shoes and those big sheets that you sometimes use as skirts and sometimes as camouflage to hide yourselves? Who are you hiding from? And why do you sometimes jump around your world and sing songs that have no relevance to the world? Your faces confuse me and your movement makes me dizzy."

He fell asleep after he'd said that. Well, he closed his eyes. I am yet to find out why he thinks that it is against all normality to live like we do. Hopefully it won't be long before he's awake again.

Stow away

We have a plan. One of Clatalie's friends is going to New York, so we have created a few plans which define how we could get to New York and enjoy the lols of seeing a country that till now only exists on teli, the internet, and what is left of our imagination.

1. Plan A. The marriage plan. We both marry rediculously rich men. Like, millionaires. Architects, rock stars, doctors and the like. Might take a while and would probably require sacrificing love, whatever that is. It would be a bit like in the olden days. Oo, we could wear Jane Austen style dresses, that would be amazing! Ok, Clatalie would probably disagree. So no dresses, unless we want to. But lots of travelling, books, chocolate and the likes of which we cannot afford anything right now. Poor us. 


2. Plan B. The invisible cohort. We smuggle into Clatalie's friend's suitcase, reappearing only when he arrives at the other end, having passed through security safely, and at a fair distance to the airport. Would mean some explaining, but we'd have plenty of time to think of something incredibly believable and sympathy stimulating.


3. Plan C. The sneaky smugglers. We lie in wait at some airport in England, and search out for the most naive travelers around. Then, when they are not looking, we remove all their clothes from their suitcases, and squeeze ourselves into the empty suitcases. Involves the risk of not quite knowing what country we'll end up in. On the other side, there are two things that can happen. Well, three:

• We rise out of the suitcases on the other end and drift through passport check and security (with our passports obviously), as if we were innocent passengers that had just had a long flight and couldn't wait to eat and sleep and get on with life. Problem with looking scruffy (I'm guessing one would be quite scruffy after spending hours in a suitcase in the hold of an aeroplane. Not to mention frozen), but then some people just are scruffy. How to get back? Make money, or follow the same procedure. Where there's a will there's a way. If the will isn't there, then we obviously want to stay.
• We wait till our hosts have left the airport premises and sneak out of the suitcases. Might be a bit tricky finding the right time to exit unseen. But hey, who isn't up for an adventure!?
• We get caught and have to be escorted back to Britain in our own private jet, surrounded by strong police men who give us lots of chocolate and tell us exciting stories about capturing criminals and eating gingerbread. Seems the safest option to me.

Because of our amazing organisational skills, we haven't actually got round to trying any of these out, but if we do end up in New York or Australia or India, we will send you a post card. 

Oh, I've just remembered - Otis Burble. Oh, but he's a bird, he can make his own way there, he doesn't even have to go by map!

Staying in for the knight

Apparently, according to Clatalie, we sound high. I was merely commenting on the fact that Otis Burble hears and sees but doesn't speak. Can you get high on orange juice? Or maybe on too much Big Bang Theory, How I Met Your Mother, Rules of Engagement, Alan Carr, 2 Broke Girls and Don't Trust the B---- in Apartment 23? 

It's bed time!

Mysterious Knocker

We had a mysterious knocker the last few nights. They didn't even use the knocker. But Clatalie braved the dangers of being shot and told the person to go away. Otis Burble didn't say anything. I think he's a bit fed up of random things happening. I'm sure he will have a wise word to say tomorrow!

Too familiar

So Clatalie and I are doing this thing where we say the same thing at the same time, then look at each other in shock and horror, then giggle a bit then kind of carry on with whatever we were doing. It was funny at first, but it's now got to the point where it's just weird and it feels like we're gradually becoming each other. So I've decided it's time to go separate ways and live our own individual lives. We definitely need to get out more. Moving out now seems less daunting, even if Clatalie insists I don't love her. It's my love that will save us, believe me! But yes, I will miss you. And the house. And chocolate.
Oh, no, chocolate is coming with me. lol.