The greatest Christmas film ever made!

Got my jammies and my bunny slippers ready. Got a pile of interesting books by the bed. Madame is ready with the hottle bottles. No turkey to cook. No spuds to peel or sprouts to ... er, whatever happens to sprouts. We are looking forward to a couple of days worth of high quality hibernating before we go off to visit The Cats and Madame's family.

Lovely :o)

With a cherry on top - A Muppet Family Christmas

In the clean midwinter

We were up early to see the winter solstice sunrise. Hmmmm. We were up early and if there had been a sunrise then we would have seen it. We did see the early morning winter solstice drizzle. Very nice but glad we didn't make too much of an effort - no scale model of Maeshowe in marzipan. I suppose the ancient druids might have worn jammies and bunny slippers. We don't really know, do we? About as likely as anything else.

We've been cleaning. I've had a bath. Some rather posh Crushed Silk and Jasmine bubbles almost made up for sharing my bath with a load of towels and Madame's socks. I had a go in the spinny machine but didn't go on to the tumbly drier. Decided to go for the slow dry against the radiator instead.

I'm hoping that my dazzling clean fur and fresh smell is going to hold off The Cats when we go to visit them. Probably won't last. Madame has bought a new windproof/rainproof jackety thing - it's red - she thinks Little Red Riding Hood. I couldn't possibly comment. Big grumpy tomato. Big grumpy tomato with new black wellies so I'll be getting dragged up some muddy hill to look at sheeps and probably a big pile of stones.

Why can't sheeps hang out somewhere sensible? Somewhere nice and warm with waiter service and a well stocked bar.

And those piles of stones? Bears don't wander about the countryside leaving big piles of stones so why should humans get to? Neolithic burial mound - my fuzzy ears! It's just untidiness. Lazy humans. One day bears will rise up and take back the countryside!

If the evil Cats don't catch us first. eek! Sprinkle me with catnip and bat me round the garden. Shred my fur and scatter my stuffing.

Perhaps a nice country walk would be just the thing. Maybe we'll get to meet a Baa Humbug. Maybe it will snow and - ooooooooo! - I'll get to meet the Abominable Snowman.


Seasons Winter Comments And Graphics

Mr Postgate

Sad day but lots of things to remember and celebrate ...

Cries for help and happy birthdays

I'm putting my Re-educating Madame programme on hold. I caught her listen to the Prairie Home Companion yesterday.

I don't like to kick someone when they are so obviously down.

That's a lie of course. I prefer to kick someone when they are down - otherwise I have to stand on a chair or something because kicking ankles is just dull. Especially during wellie boot weather.

Not that I go around attacking people - what with me being a clean living, peace loving small bear.

Er.

Um.

Quick! Look over there! It's a cute little cat chasing a ribbon.



Now what was I saying? Hum. Bears in space? Fumblog? Sad Kermit?

Ah, ha! Sad Madame! She was supposed to be fixing my paw yesterday but got into a epic battle of wits with her new mp3 player. It was just like an indoor version of that Captain Ahab bloke and his whale. Moby Zen had a whole lot of tricks inside his little rubber coat - at one point he was insisting that "William, It Was Really Nothing" was definitely by Alison Moyet. Controversial. He wouldn't let things be deleted. He pretended he was dead. He drove her to seek refuge in Garrison Keller country. We were minutes away from a future full of wax cylinders and wind -up gramaphones. Making our own entertainment. Family fun round the pianola.

*Shudder*

But she kept going and finally our little Zen friend was subdued. He is now full of lots of nice sounding things.

And "In The Night Garden : A Musical Garden". *Double shudder* Yeah. Any more trouble out of the little chap and she has him singing the Makka Pakka song. Harsh punishment.

Managed to scrap enough of her together to get my paw fixed today but don't want to push it - at least not until I've tested the new stitching. Bit disappointed she couldn't do something bionic - just ordinary thread and a bit of stuffing but I'm back in one piece. Mustn't grumble.

Especially since it's my mate Mr Flynn's 3rd birthday tomorrow.

Yay! Happy Birthday, Mr Flynn!!!

Criminal injury

ow. ouch. sore paw. broken.

Had a lovely time at Mr Beaver and Mr Flynn's Thanksgiving Dinner. Right up to the point where someone - who shall remain nameless - we'll just call her Madame - decided that I would do the Makka Pakka dance and popped the stitches on my right paw. Paw fell off.

It'll get fixed. Sometime. When she can be bothered.

No sirens. No ambulance. No trip to Stuffie Casualty. No lawyers or big cash compensation payouts.

I got a couple of safety pins and a pat on the bonce.

There's no union for stuffies. No health and safety. We're just puppets. Dancing to the humans' tunes. And I don't think that they deserve us.

Except. Mr Flynn and his family - they're good people. And my charming monkey friend Coco has his humans very well trained. They helped him to send me a lovely Get Well card and little pressie.

I suppose I've got this far with Madame. She's probably too old to retrain but I should give it a go. Rightie ho. Must go. I have a training programme to organise.

Wow.

Cats, dogs and llamas are already way ahead of me!