I have been stirring the cauldron of creativity this weekend. Reviewing past works, and taking a stab at new ones. Believe it or not, two of the items listed below are previously-written tales that need more words! I know! So shocking, that in my past, I was succinct, concise, terse, and to-the-point. With less descriptive language.
Bubbling to the top of the almost-ready-to-submit stew are:
PEEPS Gone Wild: a little story I shared here concerning mysterious appendages on Snowman PEEPS. If you remember, the picture left nothing to the imagination as to why they were such merry gentleMEN.
The Free Hairwad Hot Tub: a story I may or may not have posted, about Hick's plan to install a free hot tub. In the garage.
Locked Up! the story of the change in classrooms that resulted after my fall/rise from biology teacher to at-risk mentor, and the ensuing generosity of a particular colleague. NOT!
When Chipmunks Attack: a reminder that ground squirrels are most comfortable on the GROUND, and that cats can climb trees. And a tetanus shot needs a booster every ten years.
Yes, I am preparing to shove my baby birds out of the nest later tonight. I'm hoping they soar. But I'll repair their broken bodies if they take a nosedive. Allow them some time to convalesce after reconstructive surgery. Then push them out of the nest again. Maybe I'll make them learn how to ride a bicycle, just so I can force them to get back on when they crash. Or enroll them in rodeo school, so I can require them to get right back on the horse that throws them. Or serve them some milk, knowing full well that they will spill it, and decree that there's no use crying. Or, if I'm in a particularly festive mood, I'll give them something to cry about.
Such a big step, sending my literary babies out into the world. Stand back, while I slice this apron string.