Our first stakeout in search of ET-pucks has been mostly unfruitful, but I think not futile. We went to the homey residence of Mrs. Gloria Yamsmith; a charming mother of six and grandmother of fourteen. I have been in correspondence with Granny Yamsmith, as she prefers to be addressed, for four months now. She contacted me hoping that I could rid her of her imp infestation. From her description of the critters, Doctor Tom Holtz and I came to the conclusion that her vexation is definitely caused by something of a netherworldly mischievous nature, most likely pucks, and hopefully ET-pucks at that. She hasn’t seen them in person, but her grandson Geoffrey claims to have seen one, although not clearly – they are very fast. They taunted him at night time on several occasions and he was able to get a glimpse of one of them.Granny Yamsmith has also seen their footprints. One evening she baked cookies and hadn’t cleaned up before going to bed. The following morning she could make out clear footprints in the flower on her kitchen table. From her description they are positively therapodal, which make it quite plausible that they are ET-pucks. However, it is thought that at least two of the púca varieties of Ireland have three toes per foot. So the footprints doesn’t leave us any the wiser as to whether these pucks are native or not, but we are hopeful.
Upon entering Granny Yamsmith’s home Miss Mary Tudor said she smelled pucks without a doubt. As she had never encountered ET-pucks (and their odour) before she couldn’t say whether these were native pucks or alien pucks. Miss Mary Tudor describes the smell of pucks to be a musky tang mixed with cloves and moist soil and something uniquely puckish. She also “sensed” that Granny Yamsmith had a bad back brought on by osteoporosis. She advised her to cut out cheese, especially the strong Cheddars that Granny Yamsmith keeps in the cooler in her cellar, which Miss Mary Tudor could smell as we passed the outskirts of the town. Of course, apart from Cheshire Cat, none of us could smell the cheese – at least not until Granny Yamsmith made us some sandwhiches with grilled cheese and basil. Cheese, says Miss Mary Tudor, causes acid in the body which is probably the reason for Granny Yamsmith’s osteoporosis. Miss Mary Tudor also counselled Granny Yamsmith to drink Stinging Nettle tea and that she just happened to bring some with her, which she gave to Granny Yamsmith. Miss Mary Tudor is turning out to be quite a resourceful lady. Even Doctor Tom Holtz seems taken with her, and he is seldom taken with anybody.
We put up our equipment in the kitchen and the boys room but upon analysing the output this morning we found nothing unusual, apart for one sound recorder that picked up a strange noise. Doctor Tom Holtz thinks it might be Mors-code, but the language communicated in is not English. We will try and decipher it as a pastime activity on our journeys. Also, one camera stopped working halfway through the night. It is not broken, but someone (or probably something) has been fidgeting with it.
Since D-Day is coming we cannot stay any longer, which is very regrettable as everyone have taken a liking to the very hospitable Granny Yamsmith and her cookies. We did decide, however, to leave some of the equipment installed and showed little Geoffrey, who seems quite bright for his age, how to use everything. If anything unusual comes up they will forward the data to the Office.
The group spirits seems high, even though Doctor Tom Holtz and Cheshire Cat has not spoken a single word to each other since there little squabble yesterday.
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