Now don’t get me wrong here…Santa is definitely not the superstitious type. However, and I’m not sure he wants everyone to know about this: he does have one little itsy bitsy quirk about flying that he is 100% convinced brings him good luck 100% of the time.
Before I tell you all exactly what it is however, please allow me to start at the very beginning.
It was so long ago that even Santa can’t remember the year. He had rigged his first sleigh and hitched up the reindeer(with the help of the “stable Elves” which includes me, your story teller for today, Marcellus….but just call me Marc)
Mrs. Claus could sense that he was nervous and brought him a nice hot cup of Chamomile Tea with a drop of honey.
“Why thank you Eve.” Santa said to her and gave her a big hug. Santa hates Chamomile Tea by the way, but he drank it down in just three gulps smiling all the while.
Mrs. Claus walked Santa out to the sleigh and gave him a kiss on one of his apple red cheeks and wished him a good flight. And without Santa knowing it Mrs. Claus slipped something into his left outside pocket.
It wasn’t until Santa was airborne and had leveled off headed South (remember EVERYTHING is South of the North Pole)he reached into his pocket and felt a small object that he knew that he hadn’t put there.
Would you like to take a guess as to what it was?

All good guesses but actually it was a very small and very well crafted golden pair of lucky wings made secretly by the workshop elves and every year Santa makes sure that the wings are in his left pocket before he takes off to fly to your house.

Chapter 2…NOT A TOTAL PARADISE

“Th…Th…The BAD news?” I stuttered.
“Well there is some bad news about living here but most of the time it’s manageable.”
Toucie continued. “You see we are in the Tropics and so we have a very very long growing season and no freezing winters that animals have to migrate from. So we get the desirables…like us of course…and well…the UNdesirables too.”
Just then, out of the corner of my eye I saw a rather large cat like creature sneaking and slowly creeping very low to the ground, staring unblinkingly at me and getting closer and closer with its large, sharp, pointy teeth showing.
“Ah…..there……ah…” I tried to shout a warning to the group of my new friends but I was so scared that all that came out of my bill was a squeaky honk.
Toucie saw the look of terror in my eyes and quickly turned in the direction of my fearful stare.
Then she chuckled.”Ha…that’s Cougie the Cougar…he’s just trying to look fierce to scare you, but don’t worry…Coogie has been harmless every since he became a vegetarian!”
The Cougar immediately stood up fully and started to act more like a house cat or kitten even.
“Huh….oh….yeah….well never hurts to keep in practice.” Cougie said somewhat embarassed by being caught using his scary prowl tactics. Then he said to me.
“You’re new! Never seen a bird like you around these parts.”
“Hi I’m…Stormy…I’m a Canada Gander.”
“From Canada eh…I’ve heard of there.”
“Well…to tell the truth Canadian Lakes Michigan…I’ve never actually been to Canada. Could have flown there but never have.”
Cougie held out his paw with his claws retracted to shake paw and wing with me.
“Glad to meet you…although you had me scared there for a bit!” I confessed.
“I did? I did huh…still got it!” Cougie puffed out his chest and pranced around me in a circle then suddenly… “ROAR!!!!”
I jumped and flapped my wings which is a natural reaction of ganders in that kind of situation.
“COUGIE you stop that this instant you hear…Stormy doesn’t know you are just showing off.” Toucie had her beak right in Cougie’s face and the cougar slumped down and actually rolled onto his side away from Toucie.
“Now say you’re sorry to Stormy!”
“I’m sorry Stormy…I really am.” Cougie got back up on his four paws again.
“That’s OK…I just never saw a Cougar before, let alone got close to one. Cougie, I guess your instinct to act like that is hard to get rid of.” I sympathized.
“Oh we don’t want him to get rid of his scary nature. Cougie is our protection from those UNdesirables that I mentioned awhile ago.” explained Toucie.
“Oh goodness. All of this socializing and we’re late for our afternoon snack. We usually gather here under the Jacaranda Tree.” said Toucie.
“You all meet here every day and eat a snack together?” I asked, thinking to myself that it sounded like a fine idea.
“Unless it’s Stormy! Oh….I didn’t mean….” Maggie was embarassed but all the others were snickering.
“From now on it seems it’ll be Stormy EVERYDAY!” Toucie chimed in and we all laughed. But I was happy about the fact that they all thought and accepted that I would be there EVERYDAY!

The huge green bottomed and white topped cauliflower slammed the gavel as he(she?)stood behind the podium. “Everyone…PLEASE come to order…let’s get this annual conference of the Y.U.C.K.etc allegiance started.”
“You down there…Miss/Mr. Kale….please give your attention to the podium…must we have to discuss MANNERS this year as well as our annual theme TASTE?”
“Now…the reason we are all here is the undeniable fact that MOST…thankfully not ALL kids… absolutely positively HATE the way we vegetables taste!”
“Yeah!!” a brussel sprout roared from the balcony.
“Today’s agenda is a simple one…the question is How do we improve the way we taste to children? The Chairperson is now accepting suggestions from the floor.”
“Ah…Sir/M’aam…what if we just tried to swim in lots of sauces and fool the kids?”
“You can’t easily fool kids…and we tried that two years ago and it hasn’t worked yet!”
“Ah…what about hiding under hamburgers or hot dogs or…”
“NO…they find us quickly like they’ve got radar or something…next idea.”
“Maybe we could spend money on a public relations campaign on tv kid shows.”
“Well…except for cabbage we don’t have any money…NEXT!!!”
“SUGAR!…We need sugar coatings like breakfast cereals have.”
“Hmmm…well…that might be the first suggestion reflecting serious thinking…let’s discuss this idea put forth by Mr./M’S Spinach.”
“IT WON’T WORK!”
“Who shouted that from out in the back row there?”
“Me!” The sweet potatoe responded. “Most kids don’t really like me and I yam the sweetest and maybe the healthiest vegetable here.”
“Ummm…good point….so …anyone else have a thought?”
Then a large brown potato spoke up…”Ah…I believe that I’m in an unusual position of being both hated and loved by kids depending on how I’m cooked. If I am french fried kids love me…otherwise I’m not very popular.”
“Good point potato…So what are we to deduce from this conference of Youngsters Unliking Cauliflower and Kale…etc.”
“That we really don’t know how to make kids love us and that we should try to hang around with adults as much as possible!”
“Resolved…Conference CONCLUDED!”

“Pssst….ah….excuse me….yeah you…the reader….listen he just left but he’ll be back soon so I have to make this quick!”
“What….who am I?” “Oh yes excuse my manners….I’m one of his recurring characters…he puts me in some of his short stories…and I was even in a poem or two of his. But anyway, lately he’s been a bit disappointed with the response to his web sites. He CAN be a pain occasionally but all in all he’s been pretty good to me as an author. I mean he doesn’t make me look TOO stupid and I do get a few chuckles now and then. I must admit though OCCASIONALLY I DO wish that he were a better writer. I think I’d have more of a following, maybe even a fan club, although with him I gave up on that a LONG time ago.”
“W…A…I…T….!!!….whew…he almost caught me talking to you. Luckily he forgot something and left again. He wouldn’t like me going over his head directly to you the reader….he is definitely the only AUTHOR….in this household.”
“What I’m really asking is that if you could try to act as though he were a bit better at his writing craft then he is….believe me it would make life much easier for me and the rest of those characters of his.”
“Oh….here he comes again….thanks in advance for anything you can…….”
“Ah… what Russ ?…..No I was just… ah….thinking out loud!”

I was sitting at the edge of my garden, freshly weeded, recently watered, my still moist and glistening garden, when a voice in a very mild baritone said…”Nice garden, but it needs…more edibles, you know, vegitables…carrots and stuff!”
I looked around and there was no one there, as usual. I’m nearly always alone doing my gardening tasks. I looked again, scanning the dead leaves to the back, got to get to those …ah…tomorrow…but nothing…not even the usual birds were around the feeders. Age has its drawbacks, though it does provide a retiring way of life, still, there are moments when you’d trade for a, shall we call it, a sprightlier sensory system. This might have been one of those moments.
“Hey Bud…I’m talking to you!”
Not so rich and gentle a baritone this time, a bit, well…impudent sounding voice in my estimation. Scanning the entire garden…still nothing…then, I saw a slight movement of…the Irises, near the eastern edge…no…wait…there were…EARS…shaped like Irises but, grayish…and…if you can believe…FURRY!”
I looked around hoping none of my neighbors were watching my mental deterioration…I thought it happened slowly, over time, progressive…not all at once like this…
“HEY BUDDY!!!”
Then his head, an unusually large head, olive shaped eyes looking, unblinkingly straight at mine, this was the largest rabbit, or hare or whatever, I’d ever seen…or even heard about…well, except for Harvey, but of course he was imagin…I managed a weak, non baritoned”….hello….”
“That’s better….we animals HATE to be ignored…of course we hate to be chased, hunted, poisoned…well, you get the picture!”
“Ah…yes…well…I’d never really thought about it, ah, from YOUR angle I mean.”
“Yeah well, you’re hard to understand too…so I’ll give you that one . Anyhow, we’re gettin’ off of the subject…your garden….VEGITABLES!”
“Yes…and by the way…it’s spelled with three “E’s” no “I’s”…you missed one in the first paragraph too!”
“Did I…sorry! So how about it?”
“Well you know there’s not a lot of sun in the…MY….garden…so many trees.”
“You’ve got sun over there!” He pointed with his left ear.
“I…didn’t know you could do that!”
“Oh…point my ears?…That’s basic stuff! Did you know that we rabbits can SCREAM? ‘Though
we hate to do that, I mean REALLY hate to do that!”
“Yes actually I DID know that…but…I didn’t know you could talk…converse.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know buddy. I could tell you things about us that would curl your hare…get it? …HARE?”
He was chuckling now. “I kill myself when I do that….oops….wrong turn of phrase there!”
“Well I could TRY to help out with your…situation…I guess.”
“When? It takes at least four weeks to grow decent veg-E-tables!”
“You wouldn’t want me to tear up my beautiful grass would you?”
“Oh we eat grass too, although I like it a bit longer and for heaven’s sake, keep those “Chem Lawn” guys away…we can’t eat it for DAYS after they’ve been here!”
“Why don’t you just go to another garden…a VEGETABLE garden? I’m certain many of my neighbors have them.”
“Because you don’t have any cats…yuck!…or dogs…double yuck!!…and most of your neighbors do.”
“How about if I go to the market and buy you some carrots and bring them back and put them on the edge of the garden there for you?”
“Naw…not fresh…they lose a certain…piquancy….did you spell that right?”
“Yeah…I think so.”
“Good you’re learnin’…anyhow, I’ll give you two days to come up with a solution, otherwise I’ll come back and eat…EVERY flower in your garden…even though I hate the taste of most of those things you’re growin’ here…but I’ll do it!!!”
“I don’t see how I can….” But he was gone! The Irises rustling a bit… but… no sign of him ever being there.

(To be continued)

Little Melanie or “Melly” as her Grand Papa called her, was standing very still, peeking through the sliding glass door that led out to, and in from, the garden. She was watching her also very still “Papa” sitting at his computer. He was supposed to be writing one of his “Silly Grandpa” stories but hadn’t moved a finger the entire time that she had stood there watching him.
Finally she quietly slid open the door and tiptoed in behind him.”He must be deep in thought” she thought to herself as she got close enough to view the absolutely empty computer screen.
“Hi Papa!” she softly spoke, not wanting to startle her silly Grandpa.
She had to repeat “Hi” again and he finally lifted his head and turned it toward her with a smile.
“Oh…hey Melly…how’r you doin’?”
“Great…are you writing a new story today?”
“Well…I’m trying to…but I sort of ran out of any ideas.”
“Maybe I can help.”
He looked at her and started to slowly nod his head. “Well, just maybe you could Dear. Any ideas for a good story?”
“Not exactly…but I know what kind of stories that I’d like to read.”
“Oh…and what kind are they?”
“Well…happy ones. Nobody is sad and no one gets hurt and it has a very happy ending.”
“My…I’m not sure I’ve ever read a story like that before.”
“Well…neither have I and so…I think that you should write one. The first story of it’s kind Papa.”
“But kids like adventure and intrigue and overcoming evil and conquering bad stuff and twists and turns and….”
“Sorry to interrupt Papa…but the totally happy story would be a great change from all of those hero stories that are all different yet all the same.”
“Well…I tell you what!” …and then Papa got up from his chair and guided Melly into his seat in front of his computer keyboard…”Why don’t you write me one of your Happy stories!”
“Oh Papa….really…?”
“Absolutely …are you happy now?”
“Oh very very happy Papa…and you?”
“I’m happy too!”
So Melly and Papa were the happiest they had been in quite some time.
And this is the story that I wrote him.
Signed…A VERY HAPPY MELLY