Pootie the Precious licked her whiskers and the Squirrel sniffed cautiously at the feather left outside the mail room this morning. It was their weekly clue…. (More)
First our thanks to last week’s writers:
On Monday, you shared your stories of offline political activism in Things We Did This Week, addisnana proposed The Politician Exchange in Midday Matinee, and winterbanyan shared A New State of Matter in Our Earth.
On Tuesday, we began a series on Framing the Ukraine with Peoples, Places, and Governments in Morning Feature, readers helped tell Tuesday’s Tale: The Big Plow in Midday Matinee, and winterbanyan warned that Dangers Lurk in Common Plastics in Our Earth.
On the weekend, our series on Framing the Ukraine concluded with Bridging Divisions in a Multipolar World in Saturday’s Morning Feature, Ms. Crissie was asked Must We CPAC? in Sunday’s Morning Feature, and winterbanyan brought our weekly Eco News Roundup in Our Earth.
Note: Please share your stories of offline political activism in Things We Did This Week.
Thus we return to the feather left outside the mail room by the resident faculty, as they made their way from the
wine cellar library where they spent the weekend drinking thinking on our motto of Magis vinum, magis verum (“More wine, more truth”) to the hot tub faculty lounge for their weekly game where the underwear goes flying planning conference.
Pootie the Precious licked her whiskers and pawed her iHazPhone: “Ooh, noms!”
The Squirrel sniffed cautiously and tapped at his Blewberry: “Yes, I would be.”
Chef had guessed that food would figure in the conversation and brought out her weekly pecan danish ring:
“Now those are proper noms,” the Squirrel texted as Chef scraped some stray pecans into his bowl.
“But sum uv mai noms haz birdz,” Pootie the Precious texted in reply.
The Squirrel tapped at his Blewberry. “Well of course. You’re a carnivore.”
“Ai dont haz a car,” Pootie the Precious texted. “Ai kant drive.”
“Ah,” the Squirrel replied. “I meant you eat meat.”
“Akshully ai eatz gushee noms frum kans,” Pootie the Precious texted.
“Ahem,” Chef said. “The clue?”
“Sorry,” they texted in unison. Except Pootie the Precious spelled it “Sowwee.”
The Squirrel continued to type. “This is obviously a pennae volatus. Judging by the size and color, it’s from Ardea herodias.”
“What?” Chef and Pootie the Precious replied in unison. Except Chef said it while Pootie the Precious texted “Wat?”
“It’s a flight feather from a Great Blue Heron,” the Squirrel texted.
“Ahh,” Chef said.
“So?” Pootie the Precious asked.
“What they said,” the
Professor of Astrology agreed.
The Squirrel was already tapping at his Blewberry. “It’s an obvious clue–”
“Obvious if you listened outside the
hot tub faculty lounge,” Chef interjected.
“Well sure,” the Squirrel agreed. “I listened outside the
hot tub faculty lounge squirrel bath.”
“And?” Pootie the Precious, Chef, and the
Professor of Astrology Janitor asked together.
“And this week,” the Squirrel texted, “the resident faculty will wing it.”
“Dere gonna fly?” Pootie the Precious asked on her iHazPhone.
“Sort of,” the Squirrel replied. “They’ll flit from topic to topic.”
We hope he’s right. If not, for the record, we’re not ticklish.