I came downstairs to find Mr. Chips peering curiously into my glass of water. I moved about the room as usual, picked up a scone from our scone bin and sat down at the table with the morning paper. Mr. Chips continued with his water-staring, completely un-phased by my activities (not even noticing my scone, which is quite amazing considering he is such an admirer of a good scone).

Eventually my curiosity was piqued and I inquired into what he was doing. He replied that he was whale-watching. When I asked of his success he noted quite grimly that he had very little. Apparently at one point he had a false Orca sighting, but it turned out to be merely a mackerel. I peered into my glass and saw nothing but water. When I ventured that mayhaps he should purchase a pair of corrective lenses (for I was quite certain that he could not have seen a whale/mackerel in my glass of water), he retorted quite tartly that I had no patience for whale-watching. He seemed unseasonably surly so I let the matter slide.

Mr. Chips proceeded to browse the classified section of the newspaper, muttering something about bush-hogs. I asked what he could possibly want with a bush-hog, considering our apartment had not even a front yard. He said that one never knew what could be useful and that we should strive to be prepared for any eventuality. He noted that the Romans never knew they would need a Navy with warships, but when it came time to fight the Carthaginians they sure were in dire straits without those boats. I sighed and settled down for a long lecture. Once Mr. Chips got going on the Romans it was nigh impossible to persuade him to stop.