Friday the 12th of August was “D” day before Sara and Colm’s Wedding. We were woken early by Bob, demanding breakfast. You would think he knew something strange was happening. And it got stranger because they (Ellie and Bob) both had a bath. Though he showed his disgust at this pretty simply by ; rolling […]
With five hundred and fifty five sacks of nectar collected, I only have six more to go. Then I will be collector of the week, Horace thought as he paused for a break.
It was humid and hot, not two of his favourite words but work was work and families had mouths and they needed to be fed.
He paused and with a neat flick his strawlike tongue zipped outwards and got …nada… zilch…nothing.
Again, it can’t be happening again. Oh gosh, that’s the third time today. I’m overworked, I’m finished I won’t make the top of the pollen charts today or tomorrow. I must be ill. As he ranted and raved, a strange noise caught his attention. He paused and looked about him. The other insects around were mostly bees or the odd horsefly, but he could have sworn he heard a giggle. He didn’t see anyone watching him.
“Oh god, its worse than I thought, I’m going cuckoo, mad, batty.” He shuddered – he hated bats.
Horace considered his options. To return home now would be to admit total and utter defeat. “I’m not a quitter, ” he muttered. “I’ll move on to the next plant and try once more.”
Horace waited for the wind to lift and like the other butterflies about him he had a knack of taking off just at the right moment. However, today when he stretched his wings for take off, he noticed that something was not quite right. I feel as though I am gaining weight. Must go back to Moving and Meditating Classes, they did me good the last time. He decided as he flew on to the next plant.
He landed with a thump and gave himself a minute. He closed his eyes and pictured a calm scene. Night time and his bed.
Meanwhile Lolita ladybug had unattached herself from him and was busy collecting nectar. Horace is exceptionally stupid, he closes his eyes for a minute each time he lands. She hummed as she worked.
Butterflies were famous for being less than clever but today she had hit the jackpot, so far she had robbed Horace of six sacks of nectar and if she played her cards right he would even give her a ride back home.
The sun was dropping to its bed, the level of noise was dropping as most animals were settling down for the night. Horace was almost home. He was exhausted and flying low to the ground. As he flew over a discarded bicycle he noticed a strange reflection. It can’t be me, I am never that shape, he thought and circled for a better look.
Lolita, I will fix her. But saying it and doing it are two very different things. Horace didn’t want to hurt her merely give her a fright. Suddenly he saw the perfect place to do it. It was a steep climb but he made it. He dropped very low over the basin and with a huge effort gave his wings a shake. The sleepy ladybird slid off the end of his wing, the sacks of pollen followed her dropping through the air. As Lolita woke with a fright she began to scream. Feeling the sudden rush of air, she began to flick her wings to stop her fall. It was enough for Horace to turn around dive between her and the sacks and collect them with his outspread wings.
“Don’t mess with me again. I am not stupid.” Horace said as he turned for home.
With a shrug Lolita vowed she would have better luck tomorrow as she too made her way home.
Breeze was asleep until the wood was filled with a bouncing sound. “Booinnnggggg” On and on it went, echoing off the trees, sky and ground until the tree shook and Breeze was shaken from his branch.
Now this is not good, he muttered and went to investigate.
It didn’t take long for him to find the cause of the noise.
It was really two causes, Lovisma and her favorite furry friend: Flippity Rabbit.
He stood on the ground and watched them play. Other animals had gathered round and they were not smiling.
For the two had created a trampoline made from spiders webs and were bouncing on it so much they had shaken the clothes from washing lines, petals from wildflowers, babies from their beds and more importantly children were finding it hard to eat their dinners as the dishes kept bouncing about the wood.
Breeze wanted to tear the net down and stop them from doing more damage except for one slight thing. He wanted to try to bounce and tumble on it.
Trouble was the net didn’t look strong enough to take his weight.
He opened his mouth and roared; “Stop!”
They didn’t because they couldn’t so Breeze did the next best thing: “Elegant. Help.”
She arrived in a blink of an eye. Took one look at her younger sister and said, “I knew Lovisma would be in trouble again, she can’t stay away from mischief for long. ” She raised her wand and looked a little surprised when Breeze pleaded with her not to make it vanish.
“Why not?” She asked.
“Well I kind of like the idea of bouncing but it doesn’t look safe enough for me. And it is in the way of everybody here in the wood. Could you move it some where safer? Please?” He scuffled the grass at his feet as he waited for her answer.
“Very well, come on. We should do this sooner rather than later, I have dinner to make.”
Breeze wanted to ask, why she never simply zapped dinner instead of cooking it but he was a little afraid of witches. Even good witches have tempers. So he followed her to the edge of the wood where the river raced to the waterfall. They walked for a long distance before she stopped and turned to him. “This will do nicely. The pool is close to the wood, the water doesn’t race along here and if the web breaks the water will break your fall. ”
She flicked her wand. The air sizzled and sparked for a moment. Then with a loud pop it appeared. A huge net high in the air, dangling above the water with Lovisma and Flippity still bouncing on it.
Breeze didn’t wait to be asked he climbed the nearest tree and took a dive onto the net.
However, he forgot about the others. With a squeal of delight Lovisma and Flippity shot high in the air and then with a loud splash they bounced straight off the net and into the water.
Much to everyone’s surprise the tiny witch loved it.
“Do it again Breeze do it again. ” Poor Breeze spent the rest of the evening bouncing on the net and sending those who wished to try it, shooting like rockets into the water.
“next time I get a good idea, I really should keep it to myself.” He muttered when he made his way home to bed very late that night.
For all writers fact or fiction this post might be of help or simply encourage us to keep writing
Summer is finally here!
This has always been a nostalgic time of year for me. As a kid, I spent my days devouring stories–less a book worm and more a book serpent. I could never get enough. There was never enough time. Summer reading always brings to mind stories like Wuthering Heights, The Secret Garden, Treasure Island, Nancy Drew mysteries, and Thornton Burgess animal stories.
When I wasn’t reading (or harrassed by my younger sister) I was writing my own stories. With no demands on my time other than to swim, picnic, or explore the woods, writing was a carefree luxury that I indulged in daily.
Now older, with children of my own, and more serious demands made on my time, writing and reading for pleasure are rare activities for me. I often hear the same from my coaching clients–how difficult it is to fit writing into a life that is already…
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Breeze was smiling because he could smell his favorite smell – cakes baking. He slid off the branch and began to wander through the forest. He knew if he took his time he would miss the messy washing up bit and land at Tulips door in time for afternoon tea and cake.
His smile lasted for about ten seconds. It was the saddest looking dragon who took his happy smile away. The dragon was green and miserable.
“Hey, What is wrong with you buddy?” Breeze asked.
“My life is ruined and all because of my hot breath.” The dragon mumbled.
Breeze frowned and sat down, a safe distance away, from the grumpy dragon.
“But, Frank even I know that your speciality is fire breathing” Breeze spoke softly not wishing to annoy the small dragon.
“Yes but not when you love flowers and want to be a botanist.”
“A what?” Breeze looked about him wondering if he had fallen on his head and was having a terrible nightmare, because not one bit of this conversation was making sense to him.
“I like studying and growing flowers but it won’t work cos often, much too often they end up looking like toast.”
Breeze opened his mouth, closed it and opened it again. He was afraid to say what he was thinking.
The dragon spoke for him. “No burnt flowers do not taste like toast. They simply look burnt.”
“Okay I know what to do lets talk to Elegant witch.” Breeze stood, told Frank where to meet him and ran off to see Elegant.
Unfortunately for him she wasn’t baking, she was cleaning her house using a broom.
Breeze watched her work and frowned. The world is gone upside down, he thought, dragons who want to potter about in the garden and witches who use a broom for sweeping.
Her chuckle startled him. “I heard that Breeze and no I am not crazy. I just like sweeping.” Putting down the broom she asked him, “What problem have you brought to me today?”
Breeze told her about Frank. It was Elegants turn to look worried. “If I stop his fiery breath, the others will not like it.” Elegant began to pace about the room. There was a bee dancing on the window ledge, very gently Elegant shooed it from the room. Then she turned to Breeze, “That is the answer.”
Breeze frowned. He didn’t think a bee on a window was an answer to anything but he knew Elegant to be a clever witch so he waited for her to return.
Frank arrived as Elegant finished her spell. When the dragon nervously asked her if she could help, she smiled and held out the hat for him. “It is smashing but won’t it go on fire too?”
Breeze moved out of the way and said, “Try it” then as fast as he could he ran to Tulips house. Afterall if the magical beekeepers helmet worked the dragon would be happy and if it didn’t then Breeze might have a lot of ashes to sweep up and Breeze hated sweeping.
Re-blogged from The Story Reading Ape. CLICK THROUGH to the ORIGINAL POST for the information on how we can all come together in International Solidarity of Indie Authors! Excerpt from an announcement on Writers Win site: Mark your calendars! Libraries across North America will host local events for the first annual Indie Author Day on […]
Everyone in the wood knows the green faced Ogre called Breeze loves trees, cupcakes and food in general. But Breeze was surprised one afternoon when Lily refused to eat her broccoli and instead of grumbling about being told to eat it. She said “Everyone I know hates something but what do you hate Mr. Breeze?”
He crunched on his own raw broccoli and considered his answer carefully.
Lily pushed her vegetables around on her plate while she waited for his answer.
“I hate, Rain.”
“Why?” She smiled up at him and when he looked away she slid some broccoli on his plate.
“Because it makes sitting on branches of trees difficult, I keep sliding off.” He rammed a piece of broccoli into his large mouth.
Her answering giggles didn’t please him. Lily noticed and said, “Sorry but you like sliding on branches.”
“Yes but not when I am trying to sleep and there is this picture I got from that sneaky dog – Bob.”
Lily sat up, delighted that Bob had been mentioned as this meant the whole problem of eating or not eating broccoli would now be forgotten. “Bob? What has he done?”
“He watches me falling off branches in the rain and I bet he laughs a lot at it.” Breeze scratched his chin and looked very bothered at this thought.”
“Can I see the photo?” She asked
While Breeze ambled to the back of his cave to collect the picture Lily pushed the remaining broccoli onto his plate just in time as Breeze returned.
“See, what he does?”
“He is a clever Dog, hiding from the rain,” she mumbled. She noticed Breeze’s sad expression and suggested, “But he doesn’t make Lily the nicest Ice cream sundaes in the whole wide world.”
Breeze grinned. “You are correct, lets go and make some extra large ones.”
Lily jumped down from her chair only too happy that the horrible broccoli was now forgotten.