the honour of whiskers
HELLO. I had a very pleasing drawing time the other day, I drew many squirrels and and I was going to post them all at once but now I have decided I am going to piece parcel them out so you have many over the days to snacks and nibble on instead of one giant feast meals now. Also because I need to go to the dream place soon, sleep is important for it feeds and nurtures the almighty BRAIN by spooning odd dreams into it’s mouth. Or out of it’s mouth. It’s hard to tell.
PREPARE TO MEET THE SQUIRREL QUEEN.
YES. That is her. She has floating crown. She has ribbons in her tail. She has little squirrels in her tail. She takes her position very seriously and worries quite a lot but emits quiet calm wisdom, her name is Etheled. She sleeps in a nest of cotton wool balls brought brung to her by kind rats, and small bits of silver wool that the magpies find (and that she ties into her tail whilst she dreams). The cotton and silver lives scrunched up in an old faded pink box what some ballet man kept his ballet shoes in for many many moons, it is lined with tissue paper. She is receiving important urgent missives in the squirrel post. The tiny stamps do not bear her face, they of course have always always an acorn. Acorn posts.
You probably think the squirrel sitting on her back hump has no whiskers because I made a mistake BUT I DIDN'T (I did), that squirrel lost it's whiskers when it displeased the Queen. That is what happens. You lose the honour of whiskers. It is a tradition that she feels bad about but it’s hundreds of years weigh on her floating crown. One day she might change it, change all the things that nibble her. Open the secret door where the dishonour whiskers are kept and give them back, give them back to all those whiskerless. They will stick them on with tree sap or old stickers they find, fallen off childrens walking home from dentists or school. Saying ‘Well Done’ or ‘I am brave’.