Winter Celebrations in Mellowdene

Yes, it's Darcy here, filling in for Jackson. Where could that lazy rabbit be? Haha! Joking. Winter celebrations mean the Buttergloves are busy and I'm more than happy to scribble some lines here.

 

With Coltsfoot Ivory and his family returning to Mellowdene, Cecile thought it would be nice to have a large family get together. All the Ivory families - connected by Colt, Rowan and Cecile - decided to celebrate under one roof. Butterglove House would have been packed, but Merlin Butterglove came to the rescue by securing the village hall for their festivities. And then it grew. Merlin, Eliza and Orton would attend, obviously. But they couldn't exclude Newton's family. And what about Eliza's brother Denzel Dandelion and all the residents of Butterglove Lodge? They even considered inviting the rest of the Cornflowers - but even the village hall has some limits to space!

 

Providing a full hot meal for all those hungry rabbits could have been a problem. Merlin had sufficient culinary helpers but the village hall didn't have facilities for keeping so many meals warm prior to serving. The Polaris polar bears offered a solution. The loan of one of their portable discharger machines attached to a series of shallow metal boxes. I wasn't aware of this technology, but apparently the heat absorbed by used refrigerator coolsalt blocks can be discharged in a controlled manner. 

 

But you don't want to hear all these technicalities! The point is that Jackson isn't available to write this time and you have me instead. So what should I write about? Easy. Other Winter Celebrations.

o 0 O 0 o

Some time ago, when I read Jackson's story about Orton's Wish List, it brought something to my attention that I'd never before considered. It was the fact we hadn't always celebrated Christmas in Mellowdene, and that it arrived slowly via newer residents. Did it originate with you humans? Not my concern. What does interest me is how the festival has grown over the years and combined with other longstanding crittizen traditions. Yes, there were such traditions before we adopted Santa and his jollity.

The bears had a small temple. Not religious as such, but it was a reminder that they were not only Sylvanians - they were bears as well - and this provided a connection to their past. It's still here, but it doubles as a small meeting place for assorted clubs. There are two small statues and the end of the inner chamber that are evidence of its use. 

 

Each month there are opportunities for Mellowdene bears to meet, discuss any issues particular to their race, noting any specific issues that need to be communicated to the village council. Their agreed representative is known as the High Bear and this is currently Forest Evergreen, recently taking over from Otto Huntingdon. These meetings are called Growls. However, at this time of year they meet up, sing old songs and tell tales of famous bruins of the past. This is the Winter Growl. I've heard some Christmas songs have been added to the last few Winter Growls!

I've also heard that the canal jetty near the Mews is particularly busy this time of year. Catsholme and the cats from Mellowdene renew their bonds. I don't know the details.

Dogs? Particularly social at any time, the Mellowdene canines assemble in the less overgrown areas of the grasslands, picnic by torchlight and set off fireworks.

 

You might get the impression from this that the crittizens of Mellowdene shun other races during these winter celebrations. That isn't the case. These events only take up a fraction of the period, partly due to the enjoyment of the Christmas effect.

 

What about me?

Of course, the Mellowdene Examiner is still published, but there's no great urgency. I still attend the Mouse Run with my family. You should not think that this relates to excessive physical exercise, but it does require some mental exercise when planning it. Weeks before, a complex diagram is drawn, connecting all mice families in Mellowdene. We tend to include hamster families too (as honorary mice) and work out a schedule of places and times. The idea is for each family to walk around the village meeting each other family - which might only be for a few minutes - and exchange good wishes, hugs and token presents (often small cheeses) before proceeding to the next place. 

 

Once this is done, the families will congregate on the village green for a dance and sing-along. 

Lots going on. Eating, drinking, chatting, laughing, hugging. A time to celebrate family, friends and Sylvanian life.

I hope that you, out there in your human world, enjoy this festive time. Ah, why be so restrictive? Winter, summer, any season - have a happy life!

o 0 O 0 o

Mental Hugging

With the premiere of the musical behind us, I had naively thought that I might immediately move on to other things, whatever they might be. But no. Not immediately.

Remember the Mellowdene Day tradition of highlighting things for which we were grateful? Well, this expanded beyond our family when it came to mentioning the musical. It was included in the prepared speeches from Beverley, Brendan, and Orton, and I wasn't surprised when Rowan told me Figwort could be added to that list. However, I didn't expect numerous schoolchildren and their families to become so enamoured; I was beginning to feel like a minor celebrity when smiles and congratulatory conversations cropped up with regularity. I confess it felt a little over-the-top as I'm not used to such effusive language. 

Don't get me wrong. It was nice. Yet I felt that I was merely doing my normal job of work. Thinking about it, I wonder if Darcy's build-up to the event in his newspaper together with his subsequent review made it more into a village achievement. I don't mind that.

Who knows?

One aspect of this aftermath was a series of visits from Cecile's friends to get the "behind-the-scenes" gossip. I expected Marion Brighteyes and individual members of the Cake Club yet there were quite a few others.

Cecile told me of one such visit and its consequences. She's happy for me to relate this and has proof-read my ramblings.

o 0 O 0 o

Doris Seabreeze and Celandine Ivory actively listened to Cecile's report on the development of the musical, the obstacles that Chris and I had overcome - some of which neither of us had considered obstacles (sorry, Cecile) - and the performance itself.

"You've been through a lot, Cecile," said Doris, "and I'm sorry I've not been there for you. I've been preoccupied with Lawrence's brother and his family. Busy with their arrival in Mellowdene, sorting out their accommodation and so forth..."

"Family comes first," said Cecile. "Don't concern yourself."

"And I wasn't here either," said Celandine. "Even though I wasn't living in the village, at the very least I should have phoned you more often. Some friend I am..."

"Now stop it, both of you. I'm proud of Jackson, and sharing his journey is something wonderful. The way you're talking is if I'd been through a terrible ordeal. Why would you think that?"

Her two friends looked at each other. Doris spoke. "I suppose it's because you've been placed in a supportive role all this time. What about your needs?"

"What rubbish," said Cecile. "We are a partnership. We love each other..."

"Goodness," said Celandine, "No one's saying you don't. But you have to admit that everything's been put on hold whilst Jackson's been working on the musical."

"No. We came to visit you and Colt..."

"That was nearly a year ago. It was lovely, but you know Jackson was a little preoccupied."

Cecile regarded Coltsfoot's wife. She was aware that, if I had been preoccupied, it was nothing to do with the musical. I had been through my own ordeal searching for Orton's parents and my thoughts were probably on the consequences of my discoveries. But Cecile couldn't explain that. [See Butterglove Losses and Routes of Sylvania]

"Yes, well..."

"You've been shouldering all family responsibility. You need some pamper time," said Doris, "and I know just the place to do that."

o 0 O 0 o

It emerged that Lawrence Seabreeze's sister-in-law Irene had arrived in Mellowdene and had immediately expressed her concern to Doris about something she believed lacking in the village.

"I find it ironic that - in a village called Mellowdene - there isn't a business that specialises in promoting a mellow mind."

Lawrence had nudged his brother. "Hey Tarquin, whatever did you do to give you a mellow mind before you moved here?"

Irene regarded him coolly. "You may mock. But it's important." 

She returned her attention to Doris. There must be somewhere in the village that deals with mental hugging, and I'm going to find out where."

Mental hugging? Well, despite the odd terminology, Irene was right. Well, sort of. Although the vast majority of Mellowdenians find the entire village fulfils the purpose that she sought, there are some who look for that little bit extra. And Irene found it.

In the Mews.

o 0 O 0 o

Some may recall a story my brother Merlin related over a year ago to Orton, Brendan and his pals. [See The Story of Hawkshade].

 
It concerned the natural disaster that occurred to the hill cat community of Hawkshade. I was a baby at the time. Prior to this, the hill cats had led a fairly isolated existence, preferring to associate primarily with other cats. There was limited trade with Mellowdene making use of a shallow watercourse known as The Ditch. The disaster forced the hill cats to evacuate and our villagers brought them to Mellowdene, sharing their homes.

This created a bond between the two communities, and even after the new village of Catsholme was built back in the foothills, that bond continued and The Ditch was developed into our canal route making transport easier. Nevertheless, most cats preferred their independence and moved to Catsholme.

Mellowdene had performed is magic on our visitors. Some cats decided to relocate to Mellowdene, enjoying the association with the variety of crittizens of other species. The Harvey family were amongst the first to move here, and the Persis cats came not long afterwards. Some wanted to move here but enjoyed the feeling of security they had living alongside other feline families. The quandary was resolved by building some homes at the north of the village, near to the canal. Whilst not restricted solely to cat residents, it was understood that these homes, collectively known as the Mews, would give first refusal to any cats looking to live there. This satisfied the newcomers and the Mews is now around 80% inhabited by cats, although visitors of other races are always warmly welcomed.

So, that's the background.

Many houses in the Mews resemble the design of old stables, being largely open plan on the ground floor - often dedicated to businesses or holding meetings - with residences on the upper floor. The "mental hugging" business Irene Seabreeze had located was on one such ground floor. Irene had found out about it from Natalie Marlowe, a Tuxedo cat who - rather than being a resident of the Mews - lived at the posher end of Cherry Blossom Avenue. Mason Marlowe and Lawrence had business dealings.

o 0 O 0 o

Doris had arranged for Cecile to have an appointment at Mentis Amplectendo, a small business at one corner of The Mews overlooking a shared courtyard. I don't think Cecile was particularly bothered about going, but she didn't want to hurt her friend's feelings. 

 

Upon arrival, she saw two young male cats running around playing a chasing game. Seeing her, they went to a side door and called out.

"Mum! Visitor!" 

A friendly-looking cat emerged and rubbed the youngsters' ears. "Good lads. Go on inside. Troy - keep an eye on the stove. Sheridan - finish setting the table. I'll be with you shortly."

She turned to Cecile and gave her a warm smile. Cecile knew her but she wasn't someone with whom she'd had any dealings.

"Hello. Cecile Butterglove, isn't it? I'm Atlanta Marlowe. We live upstairs. Natalie is my husband Mervin's sister-in-law and she runs the business. She shouldn't be long."

"I'm a little early. Don't you work here, then?"

"Me?" she laughed. "No. It's not my thing, really." She paused. "I shouldn't say that, I suppose. It helps a lot of cats. Not just cats. Rabbits, squirrels, bears. Even the occasional dog. I was brought up differently, that's all. Perhaps I should shut up."

Cecile warmed to this friendly lady with her open demeanor, and lowered her voice to a confidential tone. "Don't worry. I don't know if it's my thing either. A friend arranged this."

Atlanta grinned. "Ah, you'll be alright. Natalie and her daughters get a lot of repeat custom." She looked over Cecile's shoulder. "Here they are now." 

 

o 0 O 0 o

The fancy silk clothes of the three Tuxedo cats contrasted with the more practical attire adopted by Atlanta and Cecile, and the name of the establishment fitted their... poshness.

There were brief introductions, and then Natalie, Lily and Rose escorted Cecile into Mentis Amplectendo.

Once inside and into the reception area, Cecile was informed - although it was patently obvious - that the open plan lower floor had been partitioned off into a number of rooms. Natalie initially referred to them as "pods" but lapsed into calling them rooms after seeing Cecile's facial expression upon hearing the term "sound-capture-pods".

"I mean some rooms are sound-proofed so that noisier treatments don't disturb other clients," Natalie explained.

"Oh," said Cecile, "and is that likely to be a problem? What would be so noisy?"

"To be fair, there are not that many such treatments - but we need to consider clients who are here to relax."

"That makes sense."

Natalie showed Cecile through to an "open pod" where they could discuss the available treatments.

"You'll see from our leaflet that we don't usually cover the self-care treatments that could be done elsewhere - Sylvanians can benefit from reading, drinking water, sleeping, baking, and doing their assorted hobbies without any aid from us. We offer environments to aid meditation, provide saunas, fur grooming, paw massage, claw polishing and more."

Cecile scanned the leaflet. "I'm not sure what I'd like. As you know, my friend Doris Seabreeze made the appointment."

"I see. Doris contacted us upon her sister-in-law's recommendation. However, as Irene has tried a variety if treatments when she visited, that doesn't give me a clue what might suit you."

"Do you do that facial thing with cucumbers on the eyes?"

"Some cats don't tend to react well to cucumbers, but I've been trained to handle them as we want to cater for a wider clientele. Do you think you might like that?"

"I just wondered what it was about."

"Hydration, help treating tired eyes..." - she assessed Cecile's appearance - "...but I don't think you need that. Why did Doris think you'd benefit from treatment?"

"She thinks I need to pamper myself. Her words, not mine."

"You don't think so?"

Cecile didn't get a chance to answer as, without warning, a harsh yowling noise echoed from somewhere in the building. It varied in pitch but no-one could call it musical. Wild-eyed, Cecile turned to Natalie, calming down when saw the cat slowly shake her head. Still, my wife being my wife, she had to say something.

"What in Sylvania is that? Is someone in pain?"

"Don't worry, Cecile. It's nothing bad. Well, not in that way." She caught sight of one of her daughters. "Lily?"

"Yes mother. Room C. I'll close the door."

Cecile watched her leave then returned her gaze to Natalie, her expression clear that she wanted an explanation. Natalie sighed.

"It's Melvin, my brother-in-law. As we're using his property, he has free reign to use our facilities." She gave a pained smile. "Of course, we don't mind. Unfortunately he has a tendency to leave the door open when he uses Room C. It's not particularly generous for me to say, but I suspect he does it on purpose as a joke."

"Ah, right," said Cecile. "And what exactly is Room C?"

"It's another of the self care options we provide. It's open to anyone, but it's mainly our feline clients who avail themselves."

"And?"

Natalie considered her words. "You're probably aware that we cats are an independent group. What you might not know is that a few occasionally suffer from frustrations, sometimes unreasonable, and they have to find an outlet to return to the Sylvanian ideal to which we all aspire. Everyone is capable of finding their own way, but we offer an environment to ease the path for those who desire it."

The noise was cut short. Natalie smiled.

"That's better. Now I know that what I just said sounds like a sales pitch, but it's true. The cats that use Room C find it convenient and beneficial."

"So what does it involve?"

"We have a wall upon which we can project images of the subject of a client's frustrations. The client is encouraged to shout, scream, miaow, hiss or make any noise they like until they feel calmer." She chuckled. "Or embarrassed enough to stop. That's why the room is sound-proofed."

Cecile laughed. "And Melvin airs his frustrations with the door open."

"To an extent. I think it's more a case of him liking to make a noise. Sometimes he doesn't bother to project anything on the Cat-a-wall."

"Caterwaul?"

"Yes, I know. Mason - my husband - came up with the name. Sometimes I think he's as bad as Melvin."

"I love it. What a great name."

"I suppose so."

Natalie regarded Cecile thoughtfully. "The question remains - which treatments would  give you benefit - and physically, I don't think you need any urgent facial or body treatment. Unless something leaps out at you from our leaflet, maybe we should start in one of our meditation pods."

"Okay..."

 

o 0 O 0 o

On her return home, Cecile sought me out and summarised her treatments as "an experience."

"I liked the fur grooming. My skin tingled afterwards and it was definitely pleasant. The meditation pod was alright but only once they'd turned off the music. I found it tedious and irritating. I couldn't relax with it going widdly-diddly all the time. You would have ripped the speakers off the wall!"

"I don't think so," I laughed, and she digged me in the ribs.

"Well, maybe you could have restrained yourself, but you would have been tempted. I certainly was but thought it better to ask Rose Marlowe to turn the noise off."

"And then you could meditate?"

"I was never really sure what I was supposed to be doing. I went through the physical routine as instructed but it felt false to me."

I smiled. There are no pretensions with my darling wife. "So what did you do, sweet wrinkle?"

"I think I fell asleep."

We laughed. A lot. When we'd calmed down, Cecile said something I found a little unusual. "I think they were hoping I'd have a spiritual experience. If they expected me to find something like the Snow Queen then they were hardly likely to succeed."

"Oh?"

"Never mind that." She gave me a sly smile. "I want to show you how the fur grooming works."

o 0 O 0 o

 

I happened to casually mention the Snow Queen remark to Darcy when I was writing this piece. After some consideration he asked me if Cecile had ever experienced the Dreamstone. Obviously I thought he was joking.

"What are you laughing about, Jackson?" he said. "Don't you read what I write when I fill in for you?" [See Living with a Myth]

I said that I didn't know how to, that he should know by now that I'm not into all this webby stuff. He huffed in mock frustration then showed me how access and read all the past "Life in Mellowdene" entries we've written over the last few years.

Reading about the Dreamstone was a surprise.

Had Cecile had an encounter? It could account for her acceptance of the Snow Queen myth, however understated she was about it. At first I wondered if I should ask her about it, then I checked myself. Does it really matter? I love Cecile just as she is. Bringing the Dreamstone into the conversation isn't necessary. If she's touched the rock or not, fine. I don't intend to. I don't need mental hugging!

o 0 O 0 o