Still alive

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I haven’t died, and I haven’t given up on this blog. I’m sure I’ve lost all five people who were reading before, but my life got a little overwhelming there for a while, so I decided to give myself a small break. Then the small break turned into a big break. But I’m hoping to make a return to Tell Me a Story, Mommy. I’ll probably just keep it to one story and one poem a week for now, at least until our South American summer ends and the kids get back to school, but I’m thinking this is a year of small steps and being happy with them.

Now, having left this short message that half-implies I’m battling a life-threatening disease (when in reality I’m just battling normal life with three small human beings and some really hot weather and a few water outages) I’m going to go see if I can hunt up my creativity so I can leave a real post tomorrow.

The Ride

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One extra large butterfly lands on my nose
One teeny tiny one for each of my toes
Ten on my left shoulder and ten on my right
Three on each ear, their touch feather light
So many wings on my hands I can’t see if they’re there
I’ve lost track of how many are perched in my hair
And these butterflies whisper and flutter around
‘Til I feel my feet floating right up off the ground
And would you believe I am not scared at all?
I’m butterfly drifting, no thought of a fall
It’s so lovely to fly with the breeze on my face
First brushing the flowers, then lifting with grace
And the tickle of all of those delicate wings
Makes me laugh as I pass by a bird while it sings
We hover and swoop and soar over the town
Then slowly, so slowly we’re gliding back down
As if nothing happened, they dart off and hide
Good-bye, lovely butterflies, thanks for the ride

How to Lose 20 Pounds in 10 Days

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My method is guaranteed to work
But only if you never shirk
Each day your teeth you need to grit
And tell yourself you’ll never quit
Then do exactly as I say
And feel that weight just melt away.

Day one, take off jewelry, rings, bracelets and lockets
Day two, throw out all of those rocks in your pockets
Day three’s when those glasses of lead need to go
Day four, trim the nails from your fingers and toes
Day five, take your armor off, lay down your spear
Day six, pull the weeds that have grown in your ears
Day seven is wooden shoe burning time
Day eight, take a bath and wash off all the grime
Day nine, get a razor, shave off all your hair
Day ten, sell the monkey that was living up there

Now don’t you feel lighter and happier, too?
It is hard to let go, but so fun when you do.
You can run, you can jump, and it feel extra nice.
And it’s all ’cause you’re smart, and you took my advice.

The Song

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Once upon a time there was a young pig herder who lived on his father’s farm among the trees of the Wild Forest.  Every day he had to lead the pigs out into the trees to forage for food and had to carefully stand guard with his bow and arrow to keep wolves and bears from coming and carrying them off.  He was a steady, sensible sort of boy.  He always did his job and did it faithfully and never dreamed of leaving his charge.

Then the song came.

One night, just as he was shutting the pigs up in the their pen, a whisper of a melody came snaking out of the trees.  It was so beautiful it brought tears to his eyes.  It was so irresistible that it made his feet tingle.  He knew that no matter what, the most important thing in the world was to follow that song and find out who was singing it.  Without looking back once, he slung his bow over his shoulder and set off among  the trees to follow the song.

He walked all night with only the song for company, and it was the best company he’d ever had.  The longer he listened, the sweeter the song grew, until he began to feel that his heart would burst just from listening.  He barely even noticed when the trees came to an end, and he began walking among field after field of grain.  It wasn’t until the sun came up that he noticed he was approaching a strange village.  He was farther from home than he had ever been in his life.  Normally, he might have felt scared, but with that lovely song in his ears, all he felt was wonder.  The song led him right to the main square of the village, and then it disappeared.

Suddenly the boy felt very, very lost.  He stood, looking around at that strange place and blinking and realizing how tired he was from walking all night.  It was still very early in the morning, and no one in the village was awake yet.  Without the song, it was very, very quiet.  Then he heard a small sound.

It wasn’t the song.  It was the sound of someone crying.  The boy didn’t know what else to do, so he went to see who it was.  In a little ditch that ran between two houses, he found a small girl.  She was holding a tiny ball and crying so hard that she almost wasn’t breathing.

“What’s wrong?” asked the boy as gently as he could.

The little girl was so miserable she didn’t even look afraid of a stranger talking to her.  “I…can’t…find…my…puppy,” she said.  “M-m-my father gave h-h-him to me, and n-n-now he is gone.  I…thing…th-th-the bears got him.  And oh, my f-f-father is going to be so mad.”  The last word got lost in another long wail.

“Shhhh, don’t cry,” said the boy.  “Maybe I can find your puppy.  Where did you last see him?”

The little girl looked up hopefully, and her wails calmed into hiccups.  “He was sleeping with me in my bed last night.  I felt him get up and leave just a while ago.  When I woke up and came to find him, he was gone.”

The boy had the girl show him where her door was, and he looked around for paw prints.  After a bit he found some, and some larger prints, too.  It looked like a bear had been near the houses. He showed the little girl the puppy prints.

“I have to go follow these and see if I can find him,” he said.  “I am only a pig herder and not good at many things, but finding lost animals is something I know how to do.  You stay here and wash away those tears before your mother find you like this.”  He didn’t say anything about the bear tracks because he didn’t want to worry her.

Unslinging his bow, he followed the bear tracks back the way he himself had come, back towards the trees of the forest.  He knew that many times bears will carry their food off to their dens before killing it.  He hoped that was what had happened with the puppy.  The boy had never been to this side of the forest before, but the trees still felt familiar, and it did not take long for him to find the bear’s den.  He saw the dark shape of the bear swaying toward the opening with something in its mouth.  The boy stopped and carefully took aim with his bow.  It was important to get a good shot the first time with a bear.  When he let the arrow fly, it went straight into the back of the bear’s neck.  The bear dropped what was in its mouth and whirled toward the boy, who was already fitting another arrow into the bow.  That one went straight into the bear’s heart.  With a great crash, the bear dropped over.  Cautiously, the boy approached the bear.  It didn’t move.  It was dead.  Just on the other side of the bear, a small pile of fur was trembling.  It was the puppy.  He was alive, though there were several cuts along his little body.  The boy gently picked up the pup and carried him back home.

By the time he arrived at the village, everyone was awake and about their daily work.  The little girl was overjoyed to see her puppy home safe, and her parents were happy, too.  The mother was happy to see her daughter happy, and she offered the boy a huge plate of breakfast.  The father was happy that he had killed the dangerous bear that threatened the village, and he offered the boy a job in his carpenter shop and a bed in the barn.

“I really can’t stay, ” said the boy, thinking first of the song and then, almost ashamedly, of his father and the pigs.  “I must go home.”

“If you wait until tomorrow, there will be a merchant’s wagon to give you a ride,” said the father.  “They are expected this morning and never stay more than one night.  It would be better than walking all day after walking all night.”

The boy thought about it.  He didn’t even know exactly how far he was from home.  The wagon sounded like a good idea.  One day more would not make much difference now.  So he stayed the day.  And the father took him to the shop and showed him how to use the saw and plane and make fine angles and build sturdy things.  There was too much to learn in just one day, but he loved watching as the expert carpenter crafted a table and then a chair and other things that would be beautiful and useful.  It made him realize how little he knew as a pig herder.

That afternoon the merchant arrived, and the next day he was ready to head on into the forest on his usual route.  But the boy did not go with him because the boy was no longer there.

You see, just as the sun had been setting and the family began to wash for supper, the boy heard the melody snaking out from the fields and filling him up and setting his feet to the road.

And the song whispered him on.

To Be Continued

Bunny

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How you twitch your little nose
How you nibble at your carrot
How your fur is thick and soft
You must be so proud to wear it

How you jump about so fast
How your ears are sleek and shiny
How you cuddle up so sweetly
Bunny, I’m so glad you’re miney

(I’ve never seen an actual bunny that looks like this, but it was too funny not to include.)

albino angora rabbit

Image via Wikipedia

When Mommy Climbed the Volcano

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Yes, this rock that you see right here is called volcanic rock, which means that it used to be lava until it cooled and hardened into rock. I got it from the top of a volcano. That’s right, your very own Mommy once climbed a volcano (it was asleep at the time) and brought back this rock just for you.

Sit up, and I’ll tell you how it (might have) happened.

Once, a long time ago, before any of you were born, your Papi and I took a trip up into the mountains. The little town where we stayed was right next to a lake, with tall, tall mountain peaks on every side. In the town was a little old man, and it was he who told us about the volcano.  He took us right out into the street and pointed up at one of those mountains.  It wasn’t as tall as some, and it’s top was a bit rounded.  He said that was because it was a volcano.  It had been asleep for years, but it was a real live volcano, with lava at its heart and lava rocks on its top.  Some people climb it, he said.

I knew right then and there that I had to be one of those people.

The day we set out to climb the volcano was a lovely sunny day.  The trees at the bottom were beautiful and swishing a bit in a nice breeze.  The trail wound away up the hill just like any other trail.  We started off with high hopes of being at the top in time to eat lunch. We would have made it with time to spare if that darn volcano had just stayed asleep.

We were just getting to the part where the trail started to get steep when I felt a little rumble underneath my feet.  That’s funny, I thought, that almost felt like the mountain was grumbling. I knew it couldn’t be anything too serious, though.  After all, this was a sleeping volcano.  (I thought.)

We kept on hiking, feeling our legs get tired as we went, and every once in a while feeling  just a tiny little trembling of the ground.  It happened often enough that both Papi and I noticed and asked each other what it could be.  We should have been smart and turned around right then, but we wanted to see the top and to be able to say that we stood on top of a real volcano.  We kept climbing.  We were just getting to the part where there were no more trees and only rocks ahead when the ground started shaking for real.  It shook so hard that we both fell over and just sat there, holding onto the bushes that grew by the side of the trail.  When the shaking finally stopped, we looked at each other.  We were both thinking the same thing.  That volcano was not sleeping.

That would have been another good time to head back down the mountain.  But we were SO CLOSE to the top.  We thought we would just run up really quick and look around, and then get back down in plenty of time.  The first part worked perfectly.  We were at the top in five minutes.  The view was spectacular.   We didn’t have time to admire it, though, because right at the moment the mountain gave a tremendous lurch, and ground cracked open right by our feet.  The crack spread quickly and before we knew it, we were separated by a glowing chasm.  I did not at all like being on the opposite side of that opening from Papi, so before I could think I leaped across.  I could feel the heat rising up from the depths as I jumped over.

Papi and I turned to run, but the ground was shaking and the rocks rose up into the air under our feet.  A fountain of lava burst up out of the ground not far from us.  There was no way to get down quickly enough.  Lava was bubbling up out of the crack and already moving toward our high rocky perch.  Only a little way down the mountain, I saw two old twisted trees.  I knew they were our only hope.

Jumping down off the rock, we made a leap across the growing river of lava.  I almost didn’t make it.  As I landed on the other side, I slipped and grabbed hold of some rocks to steady myself.  This piece of rock came off in my hand, and without thinking I stuffed it into my pocket.  Then we dashed for the trees.  We each climbed a tree and prayed that the lava would go around.  We were not so lucky.

The stream of lava came straight for our trees, slow and steady as lava always moves.  We knew it would burn up the trees if it hit them.  Then another great explosion rocked the mountain.  The trees fell with a crash.  We barely managed to avoid being crushed, as we each scrambled to the top of the branches that were now skidding down the mountainside.  Clinging on as tight as we could, we rode those fallen trees all the way down the mountain.  The river of lava was right behind us, but we were moving faster.  When the trees finally crashed to a stop in the foothills, we jumped off and ran as hard as we could.  Rescue vehicles were not far away, including a helicopter which flew us a safe distance away.

Then we stood with the rest of the town and watched the mountain bubble.

Candy Apples

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Once upon a time there were two sisters and both had magical powers.  Their powers came from a very special magic dust that they had inherited from their father.  A tiny sprinkle was enough to transform anyone into anything they wished.  The two sisters were very wise and kept the magic dust hidden and only used it when it was absolutely necessary.  That was how they were able to live such peaceful and happy lives together for so many years.  When the sisters got to be quite old, they found that it was very difficult to keep up with all the housework like they used to do.  They knew it was time to get someone to help with the cooking and cleaning, but they did not want to hire anyone from the nearby village because it would be so hard to explain the magical things that happened around the house.

Then one day, the oldest sister had an idea.  They didn’t need to hire someone from outside, they could just use the magic dust to make themselves a servant.  So they went out into the yard and sprinkled some magic dust on a young pig sow and she immediately transformed into a serving girl.  They took the pig-girl inside and showed her how to cook the dinner and wash the dishes and scrub the floors.  Everything went along fine until the weather began to get cold and the apples were all ripe on the trees.  Pigs are very greedy about apples.  When the pig-girl went to market she would spend all her money buying bushels of apples and bring them home forgetting to buy flour and sugar and other necessary things.  In no time at all, the house was stuffed full of apples.  The sisters, at their wits end, finally ordered the pig-girl to make candied apples and take them to the village for the Halloween celebration.  They thought it was as good a way as any to get rid of all those apples.

When the pig-girl was making the candied apples, though, she realized that she didn’t have any sugar.  She had been so excited to buy more apples last week that she had completely forgotten to buy sugar.  Then she remembered seeing a box full of sparkling powder that looked just like sugar up in the attic the last time she had cleaned it.  Without telling anyone, she hurried up and dumped that box into the pot of candy apple glaze.  When she had finished dipping all the apples, those were the most beautiful candied apples ever.  She licked her lips while she was packing them up and she would have eaten one if the sisters hadn’t come in right then to compliment her on her cooking and hurry her on her way.

At the village, the pig-girl added the candied apples to the food table.  They looked so shiny and delicious that they were quickly grabbed up by everyone, young and old alike.  Everyone said that they were so sweet and light and crispy and flavorful that it was almost like magic.

Of course, it was magic.  That sparkling powder was the magic dust and every person who ate an apple was given the power to transform.  Without anyone to say the magic words and tell what they should change into, each person changed into whatever they were thinking of at the time they ate the apple.

First to eat was a little boy.  He had been whining all day for food and drinks and candy and treats, and his poor mother was at her wits end.  As soon as they arrived at the celebration, the little boy jerked free of his mother’s hand and ran straight to the big pile of apples.  No one even noticed the him as he slipped under the table and crunched down on the apple.  And no one noticed when, with a little POP!, he turned right into a big pile of candy.

The next person to eat an apple was a young girl.  She had been dreaming of having her very own pony.  Everyone DID notice when a lovely white pony with braided mane and tail appeared at the party, but they all assumed someone had just brought it in for the celebration.

The apples were disappearing quickly, and here and there people were being transformed.  A young man suddenly grew a foot and big muscles popped out on his arms.  A woman became as beautiful as a princess.  Two men turned into goats and began butting horns at once.

An old woman ate one and immediately she was forty years younger.  She was so surprised that she started to look for the village doctor to ask him about it, but on the way she heard the dancing music start and she couldn’t resist joining in the dancing on young legs again.  Hours passed before she left the dance circle.

By that time, the ordinary village celebration looked like a circus.  There was a juggling clown, a striped tiger, and a woman so small she could fit in the palm of your hand.  Somehow someone had swelled up like a big balloon and was floating around, bouncing off tree branches and the roofs of houses.  And invisible girl slipped in and out of the crowds, and a boy darted around running so fast he was only a blur.

Several days passed before the pig-girl came back into the village to do her shopping.  She couldn’t believe what she saw.  A rabbit sat in the sheriff’s chair.  The innkeeper was opening his shutters with hands that were solid gold.  An old man flew (yes, flew!) right up to her and told her the whole story.  Horrified, she ran straight home and told the two sisters all about it.

Of course, the first thing the two sisters did was to get out their box of magic dust.  And of course, it was empty.  When they heard what the pig-girl had done, they were terribly angry.  Then they laughed just a little.  Then they began to desperately search for something to do to fix the situation.  In one of their father’s old books, they finally found the recipe for a potion that could reverse transformations.  Sadly for the village, it took about three months to brew.  Still, the sisters went right to work.  They also sent the pig-girl to the village to round everyone up and explain.

It was a long three months in the village.  Being made of gold and being able to fly are not really as wonderful as they might seem like they would be.  Being a goat is not wonderful at all.  Even being forty years younger is surprisingly tiresome after a while.  Finally the day came when the sisters called everyone to their house to take the potions.  Those that could drink it, did.  Those that couldn’t had it poured over them.  Soon everyone was back to normal, including the little pig running around in the sister’s yard.

The sister’s did not try any more transformations after that.  They hired a nice young girl from the village to do their housework.

And no one in that village ever ate a candied apple again.

Behind the Curtain

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My kids and I are going to write a story about this picture. This is a challenge I’m hoping to do every week with a different picture. This week’s picture is from my good friend Tara over at The View Finder. She’ll probably be giving me a lot of them. I love the possibilities in pictures. I can’t take good ones to save my life, but I still love them. I won’t put you through the long (boring?) process every week, but this time I thought I’d get my kids in on the action and record our brainstorming session. Final story to come tomorrow.

What could these be?

cake
apples with popcorn
bombs disguised as apples
popsicles
cherries in the snow
little children that a witch changed into apples

Who could have put them there?
God
We did
Gypsies
a witch
a princess
a prince
dinosaur
an alligator

What could someone do with them?
eat them
play with the sticks
throw them at someone
use them to stick to the wall and climb it
hit people over the head with them
feed them to someone else

What happens if you eat them?
you turn into an apple
you turn into a popcorn
you turn into popsicle stick
you turn into cherries in the snow
you die
you get sick
you get mad
you get sad
you turn red
you become invisible
you become invincible
you can fly
you can run really slow, then really fast, over and over

I have about four possible stories brewing in brain from all these ideas.  We’ll see which one comes out when I sit down to write tonight.

Maggie and the Flying Saucer, Part 2

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Maggie and Tabby flew along in the saucer, down out of the mountains, over the plains and finally toward a deep canyon. Maggie felt her tummy flip-flop as the saucer dropped down into the canyon at full speed, but it came to a rest at the bottom as lightly as a cat landing on its paws.

Tabby jumped out of the saucer just as lightly. Maggie followed him into a nearby cave.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“To Lava City,” said Tabby. “It’s down here a ways. Just around the corner you can see the glow.”

Maggie thought that lava city sounded a little more dangerous than Snow City. She was already starting to feel very warm. The bottoms of her feet were burning a little. Then she turned the corner and her mouth dropped open. She was standing on the edge of a drop off, and at the bottom a river of lava was flowing. All along the cliffs on both sides of the river, stone houses, glowing with heat. It was beautiful. Scary, too. But even though at first she was afraid she might fall over the edge, she quickly saw that there was a tall guard rail all along the walkway where they were standing. Wide steps led down the side of the cliff, also bordered by a secure wall that reached almost to Maggie’s shoulder.

Maggie was just about to start down the stairs when Tabby stopped her. “First we put on shoes,” he said. “The ground is quite hot down there.” He turned and showed her a set of cubby holes in the wall to their right. Each little cubby held a pair of shoes made out of what looked like rock.

“I’m already wearing shoes,” said Maggie.

“Why, so you are!” exclaimed Tabby. “Extraordinary. Still, unless they are made of flint or something stronger, you will probably want to change them. Lava city can be very hard on the feet.”

Maggie changed her shoes for a pair of rock shoes. She thought they would be very heavy and hard to walk in, but surprisingly they were quite light. Just wearing them made Lava City seem more wonderful and not scary at all. She followed Tabby down the stairs smiling. About halfway down to the lava river, Tabby turned off the stairs and went into a little cafe built right into the cliff. There were no windows in the cafe, but it was all lit up with red light that came from its own mini river of lava running down one wall and along a groove in the floor. Tabby chose a stone table and ordered up two hot chocolates.

To say that the hot chocolate was hot didn’t begin to describe it. When the stone mugs arrived at their table, Maggie couldn’t even get close enough to blow on it. She leaned back and waited, watching the spirals of steam coming off of her hot chocolate. When she did finally taste it, though, she could see why Tabby brought her all this way. It was like drinking the most delicious chocolate bar she had ever eaten. It was not too sweet and perfectly creamy. When she was finished, she wanted another, but when Tabby asked her if she’d like to stay for dinner, she suddenly remembered that she was supposed to be home for dinner. She hoped it wasn’t already too late. Her mother hated it when she was late for dinner.

“I have to go!” said Maggie. “My mother expects me at home.”

“Of course!” said Tabby. “Right away.”

They both leaped up from the table and dashed back up the stairs. In just a matter of moments, they were both in the saucer and taking off for Maggie’s house. Maggie could see the sun going down, and she would have been worried if she hadn’t been so amazed at how fast the saucer was flying. They were going at least twice as fast as they had before, and the world whirled away below them. In no time at all they were back at the tree where Tabby had found Maggie.

“Thank you so much,” said Maggie as she climbed back onto the branches and down the tree. “I’ve never had so much fun in my life.”

“It was my pleasure,” called out Tabby. “We’ll do it again sometime!” The saucer was already soaring up and disappearing into the clouds as Maggie ran toward home.

She was just in time. Her mother was putting the plates on the table when Maggie dashed in. Without even looking, Maggie’s mother said, “Take your shoes off and go wash up, Maggie.”

Maggie looked down at her feet and gasped. She had been in such a hurry to get home…she had forgotten to change her shoes! As quickly as possible, Maggie slipped off the stone shoes and hurried to her room. Her mother never saw anything. With a grin, Maggie stashed them under her bed. It was just as well, she thought, as she went to wash her hands. She would be needing some more of that hot chocolate soon.

Maggie and the Flying Saucer, part 1

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Maggie was up in a tree as usual the day the flying saucer came by. Her mother was always complaining about how much time Maggie spent up trees. Whenever Maggie would come home late for dinner, jeans smudged with tree sap and twigs in her hair, her mother would say it was high time she grew up and learned to act like a lady. Maggie never listened.

It was a good thing she didn’t. If she hadn’t been at the top of a tree that particular afternoon, the flying saucer never would have stopped and picked her up.

Maggie had never seen a flying saucer before, but it was not like what she expected. It didn’t look anything like an alien spaceship. It was just…a saucer. Exactly like the little round plates that her mother put under her tea cups, right down to the ring of roses that decorated it. Only it was much, much bigger, of course. It flew right up and hovered over the tree where Maggie was perched. She was looking up at it, amazed, when a cat the size of a person poked its head over the edge of the saucer.

“Hello,” said the cat. “I hope you’ll forgive me, but I’ve never seen a little girl at the top of a tree before. It’s almost like you are a cat.”

“No,” said Maggie. “I’m a girl. I just like to climb trees.”

“How extraordinary,” said the cat, as if talking cats were perfectly ordinary. “My name is Tabby. What is your name?”

“I’m Maggie.”

“Very pleased to meet you, Maggie,” said Tabby. “As you can see, I’m off on adventures in my flying saucer. Would you maybe like to come along for a while? I’d like very much to talk to a tree-climbing girl.”

“I’d love to,” said Maggie. “I’ve never been in a flying saucer before, and I’d like very much to talk to a talking cat.”

“Then climb in,” said Tabby, and the saucer lowered slowly so that the edge was right by Maggie’s branch. She carefully climbed on board.

Once Maggie was in the saucer, she found a little seat inside the ring of roses and settled in quite comfortably.

“Where would you like to go?” asked Tabby politely.

“I don’t know,” said Maggie. “I’ve never done this before.”

“Well, before I saw you,” said Tabby, “I was off for a treat in Snow City. Do you like Snow City?”

“I’ve never been to Snow City before,” said Maggie.

“Oh, you MUST see Snow City,” said Tabby.

So off the saucer flew toward the mountains until it came to the top of the very tallest mountain. As they came through the last cloud, Maggie saw a city spread out on mountain top. Everything in the city was made out of snow and ice. Tabby landed the saucer right in the middle of the town square next to an enormous fountain with eighteen jets of water that shot up in the air and then back down. The entire fountain was frozen solid, each stream of water a thin bridge of ice. It sparkled in the sunlight. Maggie thought she had never seen anything so beautiful, but Tabby grabbed her hand and pulled her right past the fountain and down one of the side streets. Maggie couldn’t stop staring at all the buildings. Every single one was made from white, sparkling snow and ice. Soon Tabby stopped in front of a little ice restaurant.

“This is it,” he said as they went inside and slid across the icy floor to a little ice table with snow seats. “They have the world’s most wonderful frozen pancakes.”

“Frozen pancakes?” said Maggie. “What is a frozen pancake?”

“You’ll see,” said Tabby.

A little woman dressed all in white skated over to take their order. Tabby ordered the frozen pancake special for both of them. When the pancakes came, Maggie couldn’t believe her eyes. Each icy plate had a stack of pancakes as tall as Maggie’s head. The pancakes were all frozen together with layers of frozen chocolate and frozen berries in between. Next to the plate, the waitress put down a little chisel and hammer. Tabby showed Maggie how to chip away bits of the rock hard treat. When she finally got her first bite, Maggie gave a little “ooooh.” It was the sweetest, coldest, most delicious thing she had ever tasted. Maggie and Tabby spent the next hour laughing talking as they chipped away pieces of frozen pancake. By the end of the hour, Maggie was so full that she had to stop, even though more than half of her stack was still in front of her. She was also shivering a bit. The waitress skated over and asked if they’d like any snow tea.

“Actually,” said Maggie, “I need something to warm me up after that. Do you have any hot chocolate?”

Everyone in the room stopped talking and stared at Maggie. Someone even gave a little gasp. The waitress skated back a step or two.

“That’s quite all right,” said Tabby quickly. “No tea today, Helada. It’s time for us to be going.” Throwing a few small coins on the table, Tabby grabbed Maggie’s hand again and pulled her out the door.”

“I’m sorry,” whispered Maggie as he whisked her down the street. “I guess I said the wrong thing.”

“Yes, well, no one ever mentions things that are h-o-t here. It’s considered quite rude,” said Tabby. “But how could you have known? This is your first time to Snow City. Next time you’ll know better.”

“Y-y-yes,” shivered Maggie.

“You still need to warm up, then, don’t you?” said Tabby. They were climbing back into the flying saucer now. “Not to worry. If hot chocolate is what you need, I know the perfect spot.”

To Be Continued