In Memory of the Header Picture of Timothy Mouse

Timothy Q. Mouse was a supreme mouse, manager, friend, and header picture. Born circa 1940, this legendary figure never spoke of his past, and, to this day, it remains shrouded in mystery. Experts tell us he was born to a family of mice. They further conclude that, in the tradition of the mice of the time, his family neither sent him by TARDIS to live in the year 5050 nor sent him by ski lift to live on Mount Olympus with the gods. Actually, that's the tradition of mice of all times. There is some dispute, however, on whether he was born in the circus or ran away to it. Of the circus-birth theory, proponents say he obviously knew where to find peanuts and how to execute tricks of the trade, like hiding peanuts in his hat. Of the runaway theory, proponents say he clearly had a New York accent and therefore must have grown up in New York, not traveling across accent-boundaries all willy nilly. Willy Nilly says it's possible he simply inherited his accent from his mother. His mother asks how she possibly could have moved him and seven other mouslings all around the country. Though she also says it was strange that peanuts kept falling into the nest and she may have laid the nest in a circus truck and didn't even know it. All very confusing, a topic for a much more in depth study. Nevertheless, we do know the details of this great rodents' friendship with that prime specimen of a flying pachyderm, Dumbo. Now, although he's the title character, and a most endearing one at that, Dumbo was matched in personality and presence by his friend Timothy. It was Timothy, after all, who proactively got the little elephant a happy ending. In Dumbo's circus, Timothy's common sense looked like genius, which it is, actually. For this world is much like Dumbo's, where dense denizens treat big-eared pachyderms like clowns and prejudiced pachyderms treat big-eared pachyderms like targets for prejudice. Timothy cut through that dusty haze of stupidity with unforgettable, pithy speeches like, "What's the matter with his ears? I don't see nothin' wrong with them. I think they're cute." And, "Gab, gab, gab, always gossipin'." And, "There he goes, without a friend in the world. Poor little guy." Speaking such simple truth that somehow eluded everyone else. He is certainly a brain to be remembered. I can picture his name next to Einstein's and his likeness on blog headers. Actually, his likeness has been on a blog header for many moons but is now coming down. Roo, the proprietor of said blog, explains her decision. "Many moons has Timothy's likeness inspired us as we looked at the blog, inspired us to be smart in kindness and helpfulness. However, there comes a season where many winds blow, and many rains fall, and it is called Spring. Not that it has anything to do with this really, except that it's Spring now, and I'm taking down the picture. But many pictures inspire us, and we must give them all homage. Timothy understood this well. Probably. The next blog header will be of Aisling and Pangur Ban of The Secret of Kells. I think Timothy would approve. And we at Sneeze the Day will always approve of Timothy. Probably, usually." Well said, Roo. Well said.

A Fairy's Dream Job

Now, fairy class, the most Envied Trade?
Why, no other trade but fairy maid
And all the fairy laws ban it or
Every fairy would be janitor

Fairies think maidery an imperative must
For gaining possession of fairyful dust
Dusting the dust, Maid flies like a gust
To gain more fairy-musts, to gain more than just rust

Rust grants clairvoyance very specific
To see when a monster breaks the Pacific
To us human beings, the logic's horrific
To them flying pixies, it's plain scientific

Washing of garments entitles the mud
To sweet faithful Maid, whose singing skills bud
Also her claim, the fairy grass stains
Grant Maid the assurance she'll never know pain

Scraping the walls of the paint there in splatters
Maid speaks to flowers, she fluently chatters
Being bilingual is a power that matters
To all, take the words of Alice and Hatter

Hours on hours, Maid kills fairy germs
Her magic rebuttal skills rival whole firms
Janitor, forever smeared over in grease,
Finds fairy grease gives a janitor peace

Also a chimneysweep covered in soot
She finds it's like dust but gives fleetness of foot
The prize that sticks to both used sponge and mop?
Fairy glop magic grants perfect doo wop

So study hard in dirt-istry
Get all A's in your grime-ology
Only the best get into Sanitation University
Only the best get in the Fairy Maids Agency

- A poem by Roo