As the shells were cracking
The space grew lacking
We wanted to spread our new wings
It was hard to rest
In that tight little nest
Me and my four new sib-lings

After weeks of just sitting
Mom was off flitting
We waited with some sense of dread
Our mouths were held open
We’re always hopin’
We’d be the first to be fed

The grubs kept a comin’
Our Mom sure was somethin’
She could find food with the best
But as we grew older
My siblings grew bolder
There was less food and no rest

The eating’s not easy
Worms make me queasy
But you must never be meek
So I do my best
To live in a nest
Where I am just the fifth beak

I ‘d like a menu more varied
But when she got married
Mom’s motherly instinct took hold
And while I am peeping
It’s bugs I’ll be eating
But this food routine’s gettin’ old

The day came for flyin’
My siblings were crying
But I was up for the dare
Mom took me to the ledge
I looked over the edge
And said” Man that’s a long way down there”

“Go ahead try
I know you can fly
We’re birds…that’s what we do”
“I’m not scared of flight
I’m afraid of the height…
I’ll just wait over here ’til they’re through”

“Trust me you’ll like it”…
“I think I’ll just hike it
I’m hoping on hopping through life”
“You’ve just got to fly
And I’ll show you why
Just watch as I soar with no strife”

Mom flew through the air
Without any care
She circled about in the sky
I watched her in awe
And though I just saw
I just couldn’t, and wouldn’t, dare try

“I can’t see the ground
I might go straight down!
And I bet if I crashed you would cry”
“Oh sure you can do it
Put wings and mind to it
And you’ll soon fly well as I”

“Just flap your wings
God gave you those things
So we birds could look down on the rest”
I flapped ’round a bit
But then I just quit
“I… think I’ll… look down from this nest!”

Then Dad came along
Just finished his song
And Mom whispered and pointed to me
“It’s time to go son
You’re the last one
And we’ve other places to be”

He nudged my behind
And though I declined
It was over the edge I did fling
I peeked at the ground
Getting closer I found
So I panicked and flapped both my wings

Well wonder of wonders
The air that rushed under
Was lifting and turning me round
I moved this and that
Flapped like a bat
And soared up above that hard ground

I could go over there
I could go anywhere
Mom’s right, I could fly like a bird
“Look what he’s done
Aren’t you proud of our son?”
But ’twas I who had final word!

“Wow!” I extolled
As I flew barrel rolls
And waved my wings to the rest
“That’s no place for me
I’ve got places to see”
I bid happy goodbye to the nest

“OK,OK you guys….and gals, just have patience out there. We’ll get to all of you I promise. Who was next?…I lost track!” The Emporer Penguin doorman checked his clip board…”Now Mr. Pachyderm, what is it exactly that you can’t do?”
The huge grey elephant trumpeted before admitting “I….can’t…..JUMP!”
The penguin checked off the elephant and allowed the huge animal to squeeze through the double doors, with the aid of about six employees pushing the south end of the north facing creature.
“Next!” shouted the Penguin.
The doorman whose name was Ernie, got his job after being a regular attending member of the Cannots and even though Ernie couldn’t fly like other birds, he made a GREAT doorman.
“NEXT!!!” Ernie had to shout to be heard and then felt a tapping on his ankle. When he looked down he saw a black snake looking up at him. “SSS…my name’sss SSSSSam and I can’t run. BUT I CAN SSSLITHER!”
“OK…ah SSSSSAM! Got it!” And the snake slithered into the club.
Outside of the Cannot club the animals were lined up a block long. Ernie was a very intelligent Penguin and after assessing the crowd of animals lined up, he had a thought that would make his job easier and faster and relieve the long lines quickly.
“How many of you, like me, can’t fly?” he yelled.
The raccoons, and possums and groundhogs and dogs and cats and well, nearly every waiting animal except for the ducks and geese raised their paws!
The chickens and pheasants in line raised their wings just about halfway but would need another CANNOT to get them admitted because although they don’t fly well, they do get off of the ground.
The chickens and pheasants were eventually allowed inside because none of them could climb a tree.
Just as Ernie was about to close the entrance door he noticed a small boy leaning against the side of the building and sadly looking down at the ground.
“Ah…kid…what’s the matter? Did your pet go inside the club?” asked a concerned Ernie.
“No…I’m Eric and I was told that this is the Cannot club and I…cannot….READ!”
“Oh my! Well. Here at the club we don’t celebrate what each of us cannot do but we cheer and try to improve the things that we CAN all do. But, in your case, I think that since nearly everyone I know of can read, we will all be happy to teach you how to read. I guarantee you that after lessons from our best readers you will be such a good reader that the library will know you on a first name basis! AND…since you can’t fly either, without an airplane that is, you qualify, so welcome to the Cannot Club.”
And Ernie swung the doors wide open for Eric.
After just a few weeks Eric was reading really well and in fact was reading stories about kids and their pets to all of the Cannot Club.
And it was at Eric’s suggestion that the Cannot Club shortened their name to the “Can Club” which of course is true of everyone, human or animal, if they learn and work hard at something that they CAN do.
Who knows? One day at a zoo or in India or Africa somewhere…an elephant will JUMP!

“What’s the matter Tee Dee?” asked the robin to the dove.
“Oh…I don’t know…I guess I’m just tired of being…a….dove.”
“Really? My I would think that it would be great. You’re so big and well… dominating at the feeder…other birds move out of the way for you.” replied the robin red-breast known locally as Robby.
“Wait….shhhhh….don’t….move….a….feather….”
There was a very long period of total silence and stillness between the two bird friends. Then finally….”Ah…I think he’s gone…all clear buddy.” TD breathed a sigh of relief.
“If there’s one problem with these feeders it’s that they can sometimes attract….HAWKS!” exclaimed Robin with a relieved sigh.
“Yeah…I never did figure out why some birds…well…you know….we shouldn’t be….FOOD….to other birds! Should we?” asked TD.
” I certainly wouldn’t think so!” agreed Robby.
Then a gold finch flew to the limb where TD and Robby were chatting and said, in his high pitched chirp…’Hey…what’s happenin’ guys?”
“Did you see that enormous red tailed hawk just then?” asked Robbie.
“Sure….but I’m too quick and smart for him. Any thistle seeds today guys?”
“How should I know….I don’t eat that stuff! It takes a lot more than thistle seeds to keep me goin’.” Declared TD.
“Yeah, gimme some sunflower seeds, dried cherries….you know…the “Supreme Wildbird Seed” that you find ONLY at the better feeding stations.”Yummed TD.
Just then a male Cardinal landed on the feeder perch.”What’s up?”
“Hey Red…how’s it goin’?” Asked Robby.
“Great…just wanna get some of those dried cherries that they serve here. Must be the color.” Red said as he pushed some grey seeds off the tray and gulped down some cherries.
The squirrels were chomping up the seeds that fell to the ground under the feeder then looking up at the birds waiting for more.
Then Robby said “Well…see y’all later. I’m going North North East eleven flaps over and get some of that suet they put out at the stone house. Then I might stop by the stream and get a drink….then…..” He was still chirping as he flew off.
“I wish that I was a robin. They fly so fast and have so many friends.” TD was restating his wishes to Red.
“Not me…I wanna be that red tailed Hawk! That’s power!” said Red looking up into the sky at the hawk circling effortlessly at a height of four hundred fifty feet and using his “Hawkeye” to look for movement way below in the weeds.
But the Hawk was thinking “…Those lucky birds down there. Get to go from one feeder to another and fill up without ever doing any real hunting. Wish I’d have been ANY one of them!”
But then Robby squawked “WORM!” and all the birds flew off the feeder straight down dive bombing the emerging worm who didn’t even look up to see them swooping at him.
Afterward, even though all the bird friends didn’t agree on what other species of bird they’d rather be, they all agreed that they were glad that they weren’t a worm!

“Brrrr” is anybody else freezin’?”
Flakey didn’t get one single reply from the hundreds, thousands, probably millions of other snowflakes that were gently drifting along with him.
Finally, one flake much larger than he grumped “Naw…we LOVE it! Are you sure you are a real snowflake?”
But before Flakey could respond…”Hey everybody this guy here is cold…he can’t be one of us!”
All of a sudden Flakey felt surrounded by swirling snowflakes that were bumping into him and making him use his six points to steer away from this very scary crowd.
Then two huge flakes glided over…”Get between us….we’ll protect you the rest of the trip”
Flakey wasn’t sure what they meant by trip but appreciated their aid but did what they said and felt protected and much safer.
Then Flakey looked down and saw that he was headed for a small village with trees and roofs and roads and as he was trying to decide which landing spot he preferred he floated onto a lawn in front of a stone house with smoke curling out of the chimney.

As Flakey looked around he noticed something about the other snowflakes that had made the journey with him…they were all just a little bit different than he.
Oh they all had six points like he did but they had individual patterns. Also some flakes were slightly larger and some slightly smaller.
“Amazing aren’t we?” whispered the snowflake that had landed next to Flakey.
“Are we all different?” asked Flakey as he looked around.
“Yep…everyone of us flakes, no matter how many we are, are a little different that any other flake…EVER!”
“Wow!” thought Flakey. “Yet, we kinda look the same too…don’t we?” asked Flakey.
“Yeah…you have to look closely to see that we are indeed unique and yet we are all snowflakes.” said Flakey’s neighbor.
“That’s so COOL!” said Flakey. And he and his friendly neighbor chuckled at that comment for quite a while.

Then the door of the stone house opened and two brightly colored monsters ran out into the snowflakes and came right over to where Flakey and his friend were lying.
“OOOOh my…I’m scared!” screamed Flakey in a very soft voice.
“No…don’t be afraid …those are called  KIDS and they love us…the more the merrier for them. AND….they treat us all the same and want to make snowballs and snowmen with us….It’s fun, and it is what we were sent to be.”
Just then two warm mittened hands picked up Flakey and his new friend and patted them onto the head of a very well constructed man of snow…and Flakey could see how beautiful all of the snowflakes looked and was proud of every snowflake everywhere…even including those that didn’t quite understand how unique Flakey really was.

Ten year old Sara lived in an historic Elizabethan house up on the hill on the edge of town. She liked the house because it looked very much like her doll house that her Grandpa had built for her when she was seven. She also liked the house because she had her very own bedroom which she didn’t have in the other house that her family lived in over in Springland…the next town over.
Sara’s room had nice high ceilings and a huge window that looked out onto the back garden. Her parents had bought new lace curtains for her window and Sara loved to look through them out to the birds in the morning. In fact a wren had made a nest in the limb of the Sycamore tree just outside her window and the eggs were surely just about to hatch.
But one thing that Sara didn’t particularly like about her room was…well…the doorknob that sometimes would rattle and turn in the middle of the night when NO ONE was there!
Sara couldn’t keep her door locked, her parents forbid it…for safety they told her…so that made the turning doorknob even more scary. Sara told her parents about it but they said that she was dreaming or had awakened and was still drousy. They didn’t have any trouble with their doorknobs…so “don’t worry…just ignore it!”

Sara’s neighbors were Mr. and Mrs. Carver and they were always on their porch when Sara got home from school and sometimes she would go and visit them in the afternoons.
Mr. Carver wrote children’s books and Sara thought that he was very funny and a bit silly too and Mrs. Carver made really good lemonade. One afternoon Sara told the Carvers about her doorknob and they grew very silent and looked at each other for the longest time. Mrs. Carver said…”Well Sara…I’m…ah…sure there is nothing to…ah…worry about!” But Sara noticed that Mr. and Mrs. Carver looked worried themselves.

“Maybe we should tell her Dear…” Mr. Carver said to his wife.
“Maybe…we should tell Sara’s parents and they can decide whether or not to tell her!”
Sara…was really intrigued now…”Oh…NOW you both MUST tell me…my parents don’t even believe me about the doorknob!”
“Well Sara…Oh I can’t tell Sara…she’s such a sweet little girl….” Mrs. Carver looked at her husband.
“It’s too late now we’ve already said WAY too much….tell her…I hope her parents forgive us if they ever find out!”
“Well…Sara…Many…MANY years ago…perhaps a hundred years ago a little girl named Gwendolin lived in your house…when it was new. And I’m pretty sure her room is now YOUR bedroom. Now mind you this is just what we heard when we moved here 30 years ago…”
“PLEASE…Mrs. Carver…did something bad happen to Gwendolin? Tell me.”
“Well…nobody knows for sure…one night her parents heard a strange rattling in her bedroom and then…she…was…gone!”
“Her toys were there…her cat was there and her clothes were still in her closet but no Gwendolin.”
“GOSH!” said Sara.
Then Mr. Carver said..”The town searched and searched for Gwendolin for weeks without success. Finally her parents moved away. We heard that Gwendolin’s Aunt Esmerelda had come and gotten her and taken her to the Aunt’s house but no one was ever sure exactly what happened.”
“GOSH!” Sara said again.
The family that occupied your house before you lived there, spoke about your doorknob and thought that it was the ghost of either Gwendolin or Aunt Esmerelda and decided to move away.”
“GEE!” said Sara deciding not to say Gosh for the third time.
“So you see Sara…it might have just been a close relative involved in Gwendolin’s disappearence…and, after all…it WAS over a hundred years ago. And of course…the whole story could have just been made up by somebody trying to scare us!” Added Mr. Carver.
“Yes Sara…I’m sure someone made up that story…there wasn’t any TV in those days and people told stories and played games for entertainment back then.” Mrs. Carver said.
“Still…there IS my doorknob!” said Sara.
“UUUmmm….” uttered Mr. Carver.
Sara slept through the nights for the next week with no doorknob rattling until on the eighth morning Sara thought..”Maybe I was just dreaming or sleepy or something…but then…how would the Carver’s know about my doorknob?”
That night there was a full moon and the baby Wren chicks and their Mother were sleeping and so was Sara…until about Two AM the doorknob started to rattle. Just slightly at first and then turning so much that Sara felt that it was sure to open it was twisting so far around.
Then Sara wondered whether to pull all the covers over her head or go TO the door and see exactly what WAS going on!
Sara was braver than most girls her age and MUCH more inquisitive and although she was shaking all over she decided to go to the door…and…open it to see who…or WHAT WAS THERE!

The doorknob kept turning and as Sara got within two feet of the door…the doorknob clicked and the door very…VERY slowly started to open. Sara stepped back…her heart beating surely as fast as it had ever beaten before and her hands shaking harder than they had ever shook before…and then a strange bluish white light shone in through the door crack. Sara stepped back another step but leaned around to peek at the door jam.

Then SUDDENLY the door FLUNG WIDE OPEN and Sara froze…not shaking not moving not blinking not even breathing…just staring at the two eerie figures standing in the doorway. It looked as if a little girl about Sara’s age and an older woman were…well…FLOATING in the doorway.
The little girl looked about the room and then looked up at the older lady and then instantly in a POOF!!… they were gone!
Sara’s heart was beating like a machine gun and her hands were trembling again but she took a deep breath and walked into the doorway and looked around…NOTHING! But it DID seem awfully cold in the doorway but got warmer and warmer as Sara stood there wondering if she really was dreaming.
After a minute or two Sara closed the door and went back to bed where it took her until way past three AM to get back to sleep.
Sara told the Carvers about the episode the next afternoon and they said that they thought that it was INDEED Gwendolin and her Aunt Esmerelda and that since Gwendolin’s parents had moved away…Gwendolin and Aunt Esmerelda not finding Gwendolin’s parents… left to go somewhere else to find them.
Mr. Carver said “Sara…I bet you a nickel that your doorknob will never rattle again!”

And he was right!

THE END…I hope

“Shhhh….hey hold it down….Tommy is not quite asleep yet.”
“How about now….I got this great idea….”
“NO…shhhh…just a few more seconds…..ah….OK Now…WHAT was such a great idea that it just couldn’t keep?”
“Well…Tommy’s dog Brownie gets lost and Tommy finds him in the woods stuck in a trap and frees him.”
“Naw…we did that one …let’see..last…..September….the….ah….18th….remember?”
“No….not really but then I’m not a memory cell just a dreamaker cell.”
“Yeah well….that’s the greatest cell to be in a brain. Those memory cells never have any fun unless Tommy has fun…but us….we’re different…we make our own fun for Tommy.”
“Yeah…I guess you’re right…I wouldn’t like being a memory cell at all.”
“OH NO!!!”
“What?”
“Here comes that awful nightmare cell….hurry….let’s give Tommy a fun dream….QUICK!!!”
“ICE CREAM STORE….where everything is free!!!!”
“Yeah….and you don’t get sick no matter how much ice cream you eat!”
“Yeah….good one …GO….HURRY…and NO BRAIN FREEZES either.”
“So….you GOODY GOODY DREAMAKERS gettin’ ready to give the kid a dream?”
“Ah…well sorry…Horribulis…we already took care of it…you’re just a bit late tonight!”
“DRAT! I’m not gonna be late tomorrow night….and if Tommy tries to take a nap in the afternoon he’ll have the worst daymare he’s EVER had!” Horribulis left in quite a huff!
“What a grumpy cell….I’m glad he’s gone.”
The next morning Tommy woke up with a big smile on his face and his dog Brownie was smiling too!

“I’m beat!” moaned the big bass drum.
“It’s not surprising since the stick that I’m hit with is called a “beater!”
“I know…I know… I’m supposed to be….beaten, but I’m starting to not like it so much.”
Dudley the drum had to admit that he loved marching in parades and adding the “Boom” to the band but more and more he looked forward to the “after” parade rest.
He could recall when he was little, his drum parents would punish him when he did something wrong by not beating him for a week.
He had to just sit there during their jam sessions and not make a sound. He was so happy when the punishment was over and they started to lovingly beat him again.
But at his age he guessed that he had been thumped, struck, boomed or whatever verb you cared to use, thousands upon thousands of times and he just wasn’t enjoying it as much as before. What to do?
Then one afternoon he was suddenly picked up, sideways…and placed flat on the carpet in his owner’s living room right in front of the sofa.Then a vase of flowers and a candy dish were put on his “skin” and he heard them say…”Well…what do you think? COFFEE TABLE…or not?”
Dudley’s life flashed in front of him as he realized that he might possibly never be beaten again!
It seemed to Dudley like hours that he sat there and they just stared at him from various angles, “tsk”ing and pulling at their jaws…until finally the woman said…”No…I don’t think so!”
The man then said…”Yeah…I agree.”
The flowers and candy were removed and Dudley was set upright and then both of his owners hit him simultaneously with their beater.
“Ah…that feels good!” Dudley whispered and never EVER complained again!

“Get the belt…I’m fallin’ down!” said the pair of trousers known as “Smarty Pants”
“Ok…OK…hold your shirt on…I’m gettin’ it!” Billy Smith was getting dressed to go out and play on a Saturday morning and he was trying to reach the hook holding his brown belt while holding up his pants, but had to let go to reach that far.
“Whoa! I told ya…umph!!!” Smarty was now crumpled around little Billy’s ankles and as Billy tried to take a step over to fetch his belt he fell flat on his face!
“See…if you would just do what I told you, this never would have happened!” scolded Smarty.
So Billy Smith, sitting on his bedroom floor threaded his new brown belt through the belt loops and pulled the trousers up as he stood…”There!”
“Too tight….ugh….that’s way too tight….you’re strangling me….use the next hole for that buckle!” Smarty was now struggling to even speak…being “choked” by the new belt.
“Ah…how about being quiet for once or….or…I’ll tighten it up even farther!” Little Billy was beginning to lose his temper a bit.
But, being the very kind boy that he was, Billy loosened the belt and Smarty breathed a sigh of relief but was still “panting” from the lack of oxygen.
Then as Billy opened up his shirt drawer the brown buttondown yelled…”HEY…pick me Billy buddy!”
Then the blue knit shirt screamed…”No…me….you picked brownie b.d. just last Tuesday…it’s my turn.”
Billy said…”OK…you are both so selfish I’m not gonna pick either one of you!”… and he chose a plain quiet white T shirt from the bottom of the pile.
Then Billy heard a commotion coming from the bottom drawer and when he opened it, all the socks were jumping around pointing their toes at him and waving their tops wildly…”Me…..no ME…..hey ….me!!!…”
Billy shut the drawer….took off his shirt, pulled off his belt and removed his pants and went back to bed!

“I don’t know why I sit here, hour after hour on this uncomfortable bank…wetting my line. That’s really all I’m doing! I just might be the worst fisherman EVER! It IS relaxing, actually it’s boring if truth be told. And with the cost of the rod and reel, the bait, these waders that I never use and the vest. I DO love the vest though with all the pockets and little loops for the flys, the khaki “Ernest Hemingway” look of it. He was a FISHERMAN…” THE OLD MAN AND THE SEA” , but he was more of a BILL fisherman. He’d never sit on a muddy bank like this for hours on end and then make a stop by the fish market on the way home to salvage at least SOME of his masculine dignity…no he’d NEVER do that.”

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

“This hook is KILLIN’ me! It really hurts and it’s very restrictive too. I just KNOW I’m gonna drown! I just know it! But does HE care? NO, I DON’T THINK SO!…he just sits there all relaxed, NOT in pain…NOT drowning…and these pesky fish scare me, bumping into me with their lips, I guess they are lips. I don’t think I can take much more of this. If the idiot had just…kinda…cut me in two at least half of me could go on my merry way…BUT NO!!! He wants me to wriggle …well I’ve got news for him…I AIN’T wrigglin’. If I, perish the thought, play “dead” these stupid fish won’t even notice me and jerkface there might reel me back in and replace me with cousin Harvey… HATE that worm…and throw me away on that beautiful muddy bank. Well, that’s my plan and I’m stickin’ to it!!!”

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

“Look at that dufus up there on the bank. What does he think…we’re STUPID or somethin’? I mean, even a smelt wouldn’t fall for that old “worm on the hook” trick. He didn’t even put the bait on properly…look you can clearly see the point stickin’ through that ugly unappealing earthworm. I mean, it practically takes your appetite away! Excuse me a second there’s a Mayfly on the surface…”GULP!”…got ‘em! Love it! Well anyhow, I think it’s an affront to all of us fish the way some of these “sport” fishermen show such utter disrespect for our intellengence don’t you Charlie…ah…Charlie? Where are you…OH NO!…Charlie…how could you???”

“George!”
“Abe!…ah….6042A….I don’t think we’ve ever met before.”
“No…3088D..I don’t believe so.”
“George….how did you get that notch there near the corner?”
“Oh that….yeah….zipper nipped me as she pulled me out to pay for a balloon at the Dollar Store. LOVE THAT PLACE.”
“Zippers…yeah….why can’t humans stick to the soft old folding wallets?”

“Progress…I guess. I hate those vending machines too, though I will admit they do help with the wrinkles you know!”

“By the way, I saw dozens of new Franklins last week when I passed through the First National Bank. I kinda like the older versions of those bills that look more like us don’t you?”
“Ah…progress again….but yes we’re more…classic…traditional…Abe.”

“By the way…I don’t really like going through the Federal Banks. I’m always nervous that they’ll examine me and decide that I’m too worn to stay in circulation.”
“Oh you’ve got a long time before …ah….I hate to say it….but you know….the SHREDDING!”
“Let’s change the subject Abe…oh wait is she gonna?…..yep….well…see you again I hope!”
“You’re gonna be with lots of friends here at the Dollar Store….see ya! George.”

“Gosh it’s lonely in here now that George is gone. I hope we go to the supermarket. I love being in those cash trays with lots of other Lincolns.”
Then a new voice yelled out….”Hey….you’re puttin’ me in the wrong….oh no…..”
“What are you doing in here? You don’t belong here this compartment is just for bills, legal tender, CASH!”
“Listen, I don’t like it any more than you do Lincoln….Might as well make the best of it….I’m Visa but you can just call me “VEE”!