I Need a Holiday!

Story to follow. I'm having a break over the Christmas period.

Darcy Fielding.

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So, What's Been Happening?

Hello my friends - and apologies for our silence over the last month. It's Darcy Fielding, in case you were wondering. And if you were also wondering about the reason for my particular absence, read on!

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In summary, I needed a holiday.  That in itself may surprise you, workaholic that I am, but one can reach a point when the amount of work becomes too much. In fact I had reached the point where, when I was leaving home for work, I found myself looking back and longing to remain with my family.

I have always managed to balance my home and working life - until recently. The population growth in Mellowdene - including crittizens in both the village and the county - has steadily been eroding that balance. You may remember how busy I was last Christmas and my family time was going to suffer. Fortunately, my good friend and work colleague Harry Hawthorne stepped in to share the load. Everything worked well but it made me think. I needed to make changes.

That became essential following the opening of Chunglewood. Now, even though we haven't mentioned the people of that village much this year, their influence has been felt, particularly in some quarters. Granted that most of their residents still haven't left their home in Tall Tree Forest, but - possibly because of that - there is an official policy to ensure they will feel welcome when they do. The Mellowdene Examiner has been publishing a small weekly magazine specifically for the Chunglewoodians, gently giving them an insight into Mellowdene. We've taken selected articles from back issues of my newspaper, suitably edited, with a view to acclimatising them to our nature. As you might imagine, this has significantly added to our workload.

It became clear that a holiday was needed to give me a break. It was also clear we'd need help to keep the paper running in my absence but we had to acknowledge that would only be a temporary respite. A long term plan was needed. I would need a permanent increase to my staff numbers.

And that's what I did. For the past six months we have had three additional employees at the Mellowdene Examiner. And wow. They are good.

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I'll get to the three additions shortly but first I'll remind you of my current colleagues.

Harry Hawthorne may be my lead reporter but he does so much more. I decided to make him deputy editor but that was only when we'd agreed on the balance of his duties; he does like reporting and interacting with the public.

Antonia Petite does a little news reporting but she concentrates on community articles including her popular "People" column where she interviews villagers about their lives.

Although a freelance travel writer on paper, Ricardo Porcini goes beyond his syndicated travel column to help Mellowdenians learn about other Sylvanian communities.

I must include my friend Jackson Butterglove as he plays a small role in my newspaper. Of course he writes the majority of this blog, but as far as Mellowdene is concerned he writes occasional articles for the Mellowdene Examiner. It helps explain our association here at the office. I've not mentioned it before; it's not really relevant to the blog. His articles involve short interviews with villagers to discuss their musical tastes, asking for examples of songs they like and why that might be. He's rather efficient at it now and can pile up a number of articles that I can publish periodically. He says he quite enjoys it. There's the social aspect and it also helps as market research for his songwriting.

My three eldest children like to help out with small tasks for their daddy. Una, as previously indicated, goes way beyond that. She wants to be a top reporter and I think she will take over the family business one day.

So that's the current mob. And with the workload increasing, I can now introduce you yo my new gang.

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I needed someone to handle the administrative tasks that I had traditionally addressed without assistance. Some of the necessary work was tedious but it was increasingly taking too much of my time. For a couple of weeks Edith Snow-Warren looked to be a candidate but that wasn't to be. She had missed much in the years she was absent from the village, and was spending time both at the library reading our archives and here at the office delving into the recent back issues, trying to catch up on events. She wasn't interested in being employed personally but her research prompted her to suggest someone she had met when reintroducing herself to the village. 

The Faraday sisters are well-educated twins and when they came to the village it was no surprise that one sister - Felicia - would become part of the school teaching staff. The other - Fenella - had not found her niche, spending most of her time in the library. It was there she met Edith and this led to her coming to meet me. Discovering what I needed, Fenella became interested and agreed to help.

She has proved to be a whizz at administration. That included the essential tasks I found both tedious and time consuming. And she likes doing them!

Calbert Porridge is the second new employee. He has always been interested both in electronics and in machinery but hadn't found the right place to utilise his skills. Since Newton Butterglove upgraded our print room a few years ago we have increased our output but it's fair to say none of the Mellowdene Examiner staff were techies. We were tinkering around the edges. Calbert, on the other paw, is technically brilliant and the print room now runs at optimal efficiency. 

That brings us to reporting. Harry Hawthorne remains our best reporter but he was also faced with doing some of the editing when I was pushed. As already mentioned, that role is now official. We are more organised now that Fenella is saving me time, but my analysis highlighted that we needed more reporters. Edmund Tailbury was engaged as another reporter and he's an astute investigator snd a good writer. 

In addition, my daughter Una has formally become an apprentice with the newspaper. This is part time because of her school work, but prior to this change she was like my other children Daniel and Helen - willing gophers but not deeply involved. Now, Una is shadowing Harry or Antonia Petite on their assignments.

The newbies settled in better than I could have hoped. They were happy to do their work over Christmas and Harry agreed to be on call as deputy editor - if needed. That meant - for the first time in many years - I could take a break from my family newspaper and actually dedicate all my time to my family.

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So that's how it became possible for me to take a winter break. I gathered the family and made an announcement to that effect.

My wife Bridget said she'd have a break too, and that meant an adjustment to the proportion of household chores. Fair enough.

We didn't go away, limiting ourselves to day trips. My suggestion to take a vacation beyond the village was tactfully refused. Well, I say 'tactfully' but Bŕidget prefers clarity.

"I'll miss my programme," she said. I didn't need to ask which one. Of the television entertainment she enjoys, her 'programme' is a domestic drama series called 'Meece Tenders'. She is highly invested in the convoluted fictional lives of its characters and our home life is suspended whilst she avidly watches the show.

Outside the family, I again helped Spencer Maces organise the traditional Mouse Run. Together, we interview all the rodent families to determine availability and then Spencer does an amazing job with his tables of names, workflow diagrams, risk analyses and flexible alternatives. We then notify each family of the plans for the festive visits.  Even when more families are brought into the tradition, Spencer always delivers and, as with previous years, the event was a complete success.   

The children had a post-Christmas visit to Santa's Grotto.  For each of his "elves" (each semi-adopted into Mellowdene families) Lennox Murr-Grand invited their new siblings to see toys being made.

Bridget and I went out for a couple of meals - just the two of us. We arranged for my cousin Alonso to babysit our children. Una wasn't keen on the term "babysit" but when she was told there would be pizza she decided to live with the term.

None of this was exceptionally exciting but it definitely served its purpose. For me that was a break from work. Time with the family. When I eventually returned to the paper (two week's longer than originally planned) I was fully refreshed!

Watch out!

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Sunshine Daydreams

Hello my friends. Darcy here with some more scribblings for you. An amalgam of my thoughts and snippets about Mellowdene. Ah, you know the sort of thing. Unless you're new to this blog, in which case, welcome!

I've been pondering Jackson's recent tale about Morwenna Deerheart and Kurtis Gribbit. After reading it I was in a quandary. Briefly. Whilst my investigative side urged me to go and speak with these two extraordinary people, I took Jackson's words to heart. Morwenna and the boy deserve to have their abilities kept secret so I have exercised some self restraint. Nevertheless, it has opened my eyes to possibilities I could not have imagined. Do superheroes live amongst us?

Whoa, Darcy. 'Superheroes' is hyperbole. What do I really mean? I suppose 'unusual abilities' covers it. How would we detect them? And there's the crux if it. At their heart, Sylvanians don't differ too much from each other. Put personalities, likes and dislikes aside and at our core we are the same. The same values and physical attributes. We recover well from injuries and infections, treat each other with kindness and respect... where would we get an opportunity to see anything outside normal behaviour?

You see how my mind works? No? The investigative journalist part of me will now be watching people more closely. Watching for any odd attributes. Oh, Jackson. What have you discovered?

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Speaking of our resilience against injuries and infections, I'm reminded of a particular exception. Someone with a connection to one of my employees, my good friend Harry Hawthorne. The wife of my head reporter has a nephew who was very ill indeed. Huckleberry Hamilton and his family moved to Mellowdene for three reasons. One - to get additional support from his father and sister, two - to live in a kinder climate and three - to consult with Doctor Henry Bearbury. Young Georgie Hamilton suffered from a blood condition that was reportedly life critical. The expectation was that he had two years of life left to live.

Henry Bearbury is an important part of Mellowdene and he is dedicated to keeping us well. That goes beyond his medical skills. He used his ancestor's resources to develop an apartment complex that, initially, was intended to provide homes for hospital staff. I'm speaking of Minestrone House. These days, whilst some medicos still live there, there are other occupants too. With regard to his medical skills, our dear Doctor Bearbury is not only the lead General Practioner in Mellowdene; he periodically spends time at the Greybear Clinic learning of alternative treatments. 

That brings us back to the Hamiltons. Huckleberry was hoping that Henry could suggest a different treatment for his boy, one that might change his fate. That hope was fulfilled.

I always remember a quotation from my younger days. I was spending a little time with my chum Wade Waters, and his brother Kelvin - recently ordained - said, "Sylvania is all about balance. If something bad is about to happen, good will rush in to smooth things out." I thought of this when I was told how the Packbat was diverted from evil deeds after an encounter with the Dreamstone. Was Henry Bearbury the 'superhero' that rescued Georgie Hamilton from that rare life-threatening condition? 

Harry shrugged when I tentatively raised the subject. "Tillie said that Huckleberry is quite open about it. Henry's treatment was completed when he brought Georgie to the Sunny rabbits."

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I knew a little about the Sunny rabbit family, imparted to me on one occasion when I was with Kelvin and Wade Waters, relaxing after lunch.

Rhona, like her sister Emily Nightingale, was born to the Oswald family. She left Mellowdene after forming an attachment to a visiting rabbit Edy Sunny. They married and settled in the small hamlet where Edy was raised - a place called Sedesolis - but returned to Mellowdene a few years later with a young son. Their family has grown since then.

I learned that most of the inhabitants of Sedesolis were also Sunny rabbits and they tended to share a spiritual belief, variations on a creation myth that related to the sun. There was a core belief but unusually there was also encouragement to develop variations upon it that suited the individual. It transpired that Edy and Rhona (she was known as Rooney there but wasn't keen on this) had decided that their spiritual "solar connection" was better suited elsewhere. The Nightingales and Oswalds were delighted when they returned to Mellowdene. In turn, Rhona was delighted to be re-united with her sister who was now head nurse at the hospital.

When asked about their return, Rhona was quite open. "Oh, I liked it there, mispronunciation of my name aside", she laughed, "but Edy had only settled there out of a sense of obligation. As his beliefs evolved, his family insisted he should go wherever his solar daydreams led him, that he could always visit. And that led us back here. He even wants to be called Eddie so that he feels more of a Mellowdenian."  

It emerged that the reason Edy/Eddie wanted to feel more of a Mellowdenian was prompted by Rhona's upbringing. She had been raised with stories of the Snow Queen and our creation myth. He wanted to know if he could reconcile the two myths and this resulted in him talking with Kelvin Waters and subsequently encountering the Dreamstone. Clearly his encounter went beyond mine. I only had sketchy details (one's experience with the Dreamstone tends to be a private thing) but I gather his daydream showed his Sun King assist our Snow Queen in her desire to melt herself and create Sylvania.

This might be evidence that the Dreamstone tailors its visions to the individual. Does it really show the truth or does it adapt to help consolidate Sylvanian values? After all, it apparently had an affect on the Packbat. But I digress. This isn't about the Dreamstone. It's about the Sunny family.

You're probably wondering how the Sunny family figured into the treatment of Georgie's condition. As a doctor, Henry Bearbury wouldn't discuss details (of course) but the Hamiltons - and by association the Hawthornes - were so delighted with the results that they were quite effusive about the treatment.

The last stage of that treatment was marked by the time Henry took Georgie and his parents to the Solarium where the Sunny family worked.. 

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"What do I have to do?" said Georgie, looking around at his parents, Henry and most of the Sunny family.

They were in one wing of the the Solarium. This building has many windows and it lies adjacent to the Sunny's home, set back from Sundew Terrace, both nestled in a  sandy clearing surrounded by an extensive growth of short golden-leafed shrubs.

"Not much, Georgie," said Henry. "If you try and relax in this recliner chair, Mister Sunny and his family will attempt to help you. The medicine you've been taking over the past week gives our rabbit friends a chance to see if their treatment works."

"It won't hurt, Georgie. That's right, isn't it Eddie?" said Rhona, encouraging her husband to explain what would happen.

"No," said Eddie. "It might feel a little uncomfortable for a short while. You'll feel hot but you shouldn't feel any pain. We will hold your hands throughout. Close your eyes and tell me when you can taste roast vegetables."

"Roast vegetables? Sounds weird but okay," said Georgie. "And this will make me better, mum?"

"We hope so, darling," said Hilda Hamilton.

"But we don't know until we try," said Henry. "As we explained, it might leave your head sensitive to bright sunlight for a while..."

"But I can wear a hat like you do," Georgie said, a weak smile on his open face.

"Maybe not as big," Henry laughed, 'but yes. That's a good idea."

Huckleberry Hamilton later described what had happened next. He had moved back, together with Henry and Hilda, to sit on the benches within the Solarium. The Sunny family formed a circle around the chair in which Georgie sat, Eddie and Rhona taking the young hamster's small paws in theirs.

Minutes later, when the sun reached its zenith over the Solarium, the young hamster was bathed in sunshine and the rabbits appeared to glow faintly.

"Dream of what you'd like to do if you were well," said Eddie.

"Okay," said Georgie. "I'd like to... ooh, my arms are tingling inside!"

"It isn't hurting, us it?" called Hilda.

"No, mum. It feels like warm water is running through me. It does feel odd but it doesn't hurt."

"Keep daydreaming, Georgie," said Eddie. "Thinking how you will be better helps the treatment."

The process took no more than five minutes although it seemed longer to Georgie's concerned parents.

 

"I can taste hot peppers," said Georgie, smacking his lips.

"Hold," said Eddie and both he and Rhona released Georgie's paws. "You can open your eyes now, Georgie."

Georgie's parents joined their son, Henry following them. The Sunny rabbits stood back. The apparent glow had disappeared when the parents had broken contact..

"Well?" said Henry.

"I didn't detect anything unusual," said Eddie. "If you run your medical tests you can check whether we were successful."

"It's very bright," said Georgie.

"Yes," said Rhona. "Let's get you out of the sun."

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As it was explained to me by Harry, the infection was burned out of Georgie's body without any physical damage being incurred. The only side effect was a sensitivity to sunlight but that was expected to disappear in time. Some years have past and that diagnosis has proved accurate - although Georgie has become attached to his floppy hat.

My earlier comment about Sylvanian resilience and there being only rare exceptions: Georgie was one of those, but it seems Sylvania compensates by creating crittizens who have the skills to smooth the way. Maybe the Sunny rabbits - with their ability to heal with their sunshine daydreams - are further examples of Sylvanians with extraordinary abilities. Not quite the same as Morwenna Deerheart and Kurtis Gribbit, but individuals who can help preserve the balance of our beloved land.

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A Harry Christmas

Happy holidays, dear readers! Darcy here.

I was in the office a few days ago. I must have been looking out of sorts or something as Harry picked up on it.

"What's wrong, Darce?" he said, coming over to my desk. "Something worrying you?"

I smiled. "No, Harry. Just thinking about what's left to do before Christmas. The newsletters about Chunglewood took longer than expected. And then I'd agreed to help Spencer Maces redesign his plan for organising the Mouse Run."

"Right. But they're done now, aren't they?"

"They are, but they delayed me starting the usual tasks."

"Can I help?" 

"You do, mate. We can get all the pre-Christmas stuff done if I postpone some of our other work to the week between Christmas Day and the new year. If I come in each day, we'll be back on track."

"Give up all your Christmas holiday? That's not fair on you or your family. Didn't you say that you were inviting the little elf..."

"Clip. Yes. The little guys will have finished helping Lennox Murr-Grand during the Christmas build-up. He's a lovely little bod. He spent some time with us a couple of months ago. Really fits in with the family. Clop adores him." A recent memory popped into my head. One I had to share. "You'll like this. When Clip said he didn't know his birthday, Clop said that he could share his; pretend they were twins."

"Cute," said Harry. "That confirms what I was thinking. You can't miss out on those Christmas Holidays. Let me come in and help you. Two people means we'll free up half the week."

"I can't ask you to abandon your family."

"Tillie will understand. And besides, my house is packed at the moment. My brother and his family are staying with us as his new house isn't ready for them to move in."

"Willard?"

"Yes. I love him but... well, you'll understand how I would be glad of a break from him twenty-four hours a day."

"Okay. Double-check with Tillie but it does sound like we'll be doing each other a favour."

Harry and Willard. A shame they didn't get on better. It occurs to me that you don't know much about Harry and his family. I'll remedy that.

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The Hawthornes are a long-standing family in Mellowdene. They have run "Hawthorne Horses" longer than living memory, with a love for equines that is reciprocated by those animals in their care. The relationship is almost symbiotic. The Hawthornes seem to know what the ponies are thinking and feeling and in return the ponies lend their strength and agility to those the Hawthornes trust.

Harry and his twin Willard were the sole representatives remaining in the family. It was a tradition established by one of their ancestors that the eldest child takes over the business at the relevant time. When it became time for Harry to take the reins (sorry about that; I couldn't resist) things didn't go to plan.

"We're twins," Harry had said, "so you can be in charge."

Willard had stared at him. "But you're the eldest. Tradition says it should be you. I can support you."

"That doesn't work for me," Harry had replied. "It's only tradition because our great great grandfather said so. Besides, you're more of a horsey person than I'll ever be. And I have other plans."

Whilst Willard was proud to do the job, he found it hard to accept Harry flouting the tradition. Not that Harry objected to helping out at times - it was just that his interests were elsewhere. "Finding things out".

This was an attitude present in his school days. It helped his grades but it went beyond that. He began "finding things out" to help people. He learned first aid. On one occasion a family had locked themselves out of their house. Harry was inspired to find out how to pick locks. He shadowed the Sheriff's Department to see if he might wish to join; he didn't because - whilst that would help people - it didn't offer enough of the "finding things out" element.

I was a little younger than Harry but I was still aware of him at school. I'd see him sitting in an empty classroom, pondering upon a book he had been reading. My upbringing and apprenticeship at the Mellowdene Examiner had given me observational skills and I had recognised in Harry a kindred spirit. Years later when I took over the running of the newspaper, Harry was the first person I employed. 

You're probably only seen Harry in his role as food reporter. He's much more than that. I have neglected to mention how he can be relentless when it comes to research. And perceptive. Unsurprisingly he found out about this blog and figured out Jackson's role in writing stories for you, that it should remain secret and that he could extend his loyalty to me to help cover up the whole "Life in Mellowdene" project. He even helped divert my daughter Una from prying too deeply. 

When Harry was seen as an established employee at the Examiner, Willard's hopes that his brother would return to Hawthorne Horses were dashed and the rejection created a barrier between them. Nothing un-Sylvanian, of course. Merely the conflicting approaches of a traditionalist versus a maverick.

Things thawed slightly thanks to Harry's wife Tillie. Tillie's niece Kirsty Hamilton used to visit her aunt from out of town. Kirsty is fanatical about horses and ponies and when she discovered her Uncle Harry was connected to Hawthorne Horses she pleaded to be introduced to her relatives. The Hamiltons now live in Mellowdene so Kirsty spends most of her spare time with Willard's children.

With Willard and his family staying at Harry's house over Christmas the signs were that relationships were in a much better position. However, when Harry volunteered to help me during the Christmas holidays it was clear that the original conflict still wasn't completely resolved.

I decided I'd see if I could help. I would begin by having a chat with Tillie...

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With Christmas almost upon us Harry and I had completed the time critical work and we were about to close shop for the big day. I'd been keeping an eye on the door for a particular visitor and was beginning to think they weren't going to come. Was my plan unwinding before it truly started?

Thankfully no. There was a knock on the door and Willard entered.  

"Tillie said you wanted a word with me, Darcy," he said, glancing at his brother, greeting him with a terse "Harry."

I didn't procrastinate. No point in putting things off. "I wanted a few words with both of you. It pains me that there is a barrier between you, especially when I remember how close you were at school."

"Darce, you don't need to..." began Harry but I interrupted him.

"I do need to do this. I've got two young children coming together during the post Christmas holidays. My boy Clop and the elf boy Clip. Not related by blood but from the way they act they may as well be twins. Small children showing the best of Sylvanian values. And I contrast this with you two. It's a waste."

"You don't understand," said Willard.

"Really? Then correct me if I have anything wrong. You are twins and Harry is supposedly the elder by less than half an hour. An ancestor decided that the first born should take over the family business at an appropriate time. Harry had other plans and you, Willard, cannot forgive him because you feel that he betrayed the family and defied your father."

"That's oversimplifying it..."

"But is any of it wrong?"

Willard huffed and then shook his head.

"Right. Then let's first address this family tradition. Trying to force a career on someone isn't really a Sylvanian trait, is it? No. And presumably the second born is free to choose their own career. Hardly fair."

Willard's mouth tightened. "But it is our tradition, nevertheless."

"Fine. Then let's look at your birth. I've discovered that you were delivered at home by a locum doctor. Doctor Nelson Stoat. He had a reputation of being a little absent minded and he left the profession soon after you were born. Were either of you aware of that?"

"I wasn't," said Harry. Willard shook his head, commenting, "I'd be interested to know how you know this."

"Tillie told me, having learned of this from your mother."

"Presumably there's a point coming," said Harry.

"By all accounts it was a hectic birth. Twins weren't expected and Doctor Stoat's records weren't updated until the next day. Tillie dug out your birth certificate, Harry, and the scribbles aren't clear regarding time of birth."

"Meaning?" prompted Willard. 

"It's possible that Harry wasn't first born. He could be, but equally you could be, Willard." 

"That can't be right," said Willard.

"Check the documents. If the first born cannot be absolutely certain, why argue about the tradition? Why continue to fight? Remember how you used to be."

Harry laughed. "Darcy Fielding, investigative reporter supreme. Inspiring, dear friend."

Willard looked confused. "So if Harry isn't first born... I would be... and I'd be upholding the tradition..." He stared at me. "How can we be sure?"

"You can't be," I smiled. "The upside is that there's no point in arguing."

Harry beamed. "I think Christmas will be good this year."

"Good. And I don't expect you to come in over the holidays, mate. Spend time with your brother."

"No. You've got Clip and Clop. As for spending time with Willard... I'm thinking we'd be better starting off with quality time over quantity. I'll be in the office and we'll zoom through the work together, Darce."

Clip and Clop. I would like to spend some time with them during the Christmas holidays. Harry had a good point. I nodded my agreement.

With that settled, we had concluded our time at the Mellowdene Examiner and we shut up the office for Christmas. Looking at the Hawthorne brothers as they made to leave I was happy I'd given them a particularly good present this year.

o 0 O 0 o 

That should have been it but Harry came back.

"One thing," he said. "How much of that was fiction from your murine brain?"

"Ah. You guessed. Not all of it. I took the existing facts and spun a credible theory.  Nelson Stoat was competent at medicine but his paperwork was worsening. Undoubtedly that's why he retired."

"So what about the bit about our times of birth?"

"All possible."

"And if Willard hadn't grabbed onto that theory?"

"I thought he would. Glad he did. I didn't want to use Plan B."

"Should I ask?"

"You do like finding things out," I said. 

"Tell me."

I did. I couldn't help myself as I wanted a reaction.

"You had lots of visitors when you were born. Lots of cuddles for the identical twins. Might it be possible that you were returned to the wrong cribs? The wrong baby taken to be first born? That would make you Willard and..."

"Darcy! No!"

"Happy Christmas, Harry."

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