Taking care of buisness

I've been so busy lavishing in my sweet birthday wishes and love, I've neglected to give back to you, my dear Invisible Friends. And you deserve it. After all, you come back day after day to read my crazy tales and give me sweet comment after comment. For a writer who spent years pouring words into the dark world of the Internet, having your support and encouragement is irreplaceable. You all inspire me every day, and I thank you for that.

So now, a sussy for you!



My dear buddy Marie at A Year of Oak Cottage gave me this great award last week! Now, it's my honor to pass it on to some of my favorite Autumn friends:

1)Prudy
2)Lore
3) Emma
4) Grace
5)Bunny
6) Tater tots and Jello
7) Marjie
8) Maria at Two Peas in their Pod
9) Katherine
10)Noble Pig

In addition, I was also tagged by Cynthia at Diary of a Glad Housewife . Instead of giving you six quirky things about me (because to be frank, I'm tired of me), I'm giving you six quirky things about the Land of the Flowered Bed! (Want to know what the Land of the Flowered Bed is? Read last Tuesday's post.)

Six Quirky things about the Land of the Flowered Bed:

1) As a exceedingly large bumblebee, Pumble loves nectar and honey. He is however, allergic to flowers, particularly daisies.

2) Cookies, when no one is watching, giggles at cuteoverload.com and watches TLC's Wedding and Baby Stories. If someone is watching, he snarls at kittens and bashes any sweet show as "sentimental dribble."

3) Before Hairy became the mayor of the Land of the Flowered Bed, he wanted to be a cowboy.

4) The seals are identical twins--a boy and a girl. They are the only twins they know.

5) The ducks in the Spa secretly pretend to look for buried treasure on the bottom of the bathtub when the other members of the Land of the Flowered Bed are sleeping. The girl duck pretends she's a mermaid while the two boy ducks pretend they are pirates.

6) Miss Moose McKinley is perpetually confused. She attributes this to her tendencies as a natural blond moose. Her fur is brown due to the poor sunlight in Alaska.



Be sure to stop by throughout the week! I'll post my artichoke cheese dip, a new Miss Pickles and several more fun whimsical tales!

Thanks again for all the birthday love. You all mean a lot to me.

For 24 years, it's been all about me

I'm 24 years old today. And I have never felt more loved in my life. I could blather on about how I'm blessed with wonderful friends, family, wonderful mother, sister and mother in law and the sweetest husband alive, but I won't.

Instead, I'll show you.

After getting a wonderful kick off from Prudence Pennywise with a delicious chicken salad recipe, I then got spoiled rotten at my in-laws in Shreveport. I got all sorts of goodies, including this fabulous cookbook.


Then, on Friday, dear Libby turned the boring grey world of work into this:



There were streamers everywhere, a crepe paper wrapped monitor and a doorway of pink streamers I christened the "Doorway of Happiness."


Not only that, but I got to prance around in this all day.


Then, Libby and a few of my favorite co-workers took me to lunch at this delicious diner. One of my co-workers even wore a pink shirt because he knew it's my favorite color! And he gave me a large jar of peanut butter, even noting my favorite brand. Peanut butter and pink--the best combination of the world.



When I got home, I had a gift from my friend Marie. She gave me a darling dessert cookbook and this darling pie plate and blackbird!

Oh boy. I better get on the treadmill.

I feel a story idea coming on.

In fact, the little blackbird has been talking to my measuring cup ducks non-stop. I think they both had too much pie.

"And then I told the Blond Duck, "Bake me? Bake you!"

Saturday, I spent the day cleaning for my Princess Pie party that night. That's right ya'll. I'm 24 and I had a princess and pie party. I invited my favorite princesses, and they each brought a pie. My mom and sister came over early to help me set everything up.


We made little peanut butter and jelly and peanut butter, cream cheese and strawberry jelly sandwiches and I made an artichoke cheese dip. With chips. Lots of chips. (Don't worry, I'll post the dip later this week!)



My mom made punch and an apple pie.


She also brought up these cute little crystal plates with matching tea cups she inherited from her mother. Before paper plates, women would use these at bridal showers and parties to add a little special zing to the occasion. I thought they were darling.


My poor sister got stuck on dog duty.



We also made sandwich fixings with wheat rolls. Now Prudy, you'll have to forgive me for not using your chicken salad recipe. But I have a reason. My mother in law is coming down in a month and I need something to knock her socks off with. Being a good Southern woman, she's a chicken salad connoisseur. And as I always say, you never play your full hand. So it will be used! I promise. I just wanted to save it for a great occasion.



After awhile, my dear buddy Candace showed up and brought fresh fruit (she attempted to make us healthy) and a pecan pie (not so healthy.) Sarah and Libby trickled in, each bringing goodies and more pie. Libby brought a spinach dip that was DIVINE!



And then we had this to greet us. Excuse me. I need to get on the treadmill again.



We were happy. We were delighted. We were stuffed to the gills. We needed to burp.



But then it was time for pie.



Being one of great restraint and of a conservative nature, I limited myself to three out of the four pies. Pecan pie, homemade apple crumble pie and coconut cream pie. Let me tell you, I was in heaven. A sugar-coma heaven that made me want to leap through the stars and sing the praises of these glorious pies to the heavens.



Have I mentioned I really liked pie?


After we stuffed ourselves stupid, we waddled to the living room where I opened gifts. Sarah gave me some wonderful glitter spray and a coloring book (I'm really five), Libby gave me a glorious cookbook and a wonderful piece of art.



Sniff, sniff. She knows me so well. I love meat. I love Libby. I love brisket and ribs and steak and hamburgers and bacon and....Oh, sweet heavens. I need to get on the treadmill again.

Then she gave me my favorite of Marie's prints, the little girl leading the chicken. Go to her Etsy shop to see more of her work!

My dear mom, sister, Libby Lou, Marie, fellow princesses, family and Invisible Friends, thank you for making me feel so loved and appreciated. I would have never dreamed at 24 that I would know so many wonderful people that made my toes tingle with happiness and makes me want to dance with joy. Thank you so much, and I hope to make you feel the same on your birthday.




The only person who wasn't having fun was Bitty. She pouted the whole time she wore her crown. But that's no surprise.


She's just mad there's another princess in town.

Love letter to a dolphin

Oh Dolphin. How I love you.




From your squishy tail to your large blue belly, I love every fiber of you.




You've always been there for me, Dolphin. Every night, I drag you out of the toy basket and drag you along by the tail as we frolic in the Pond. We run to the kitchen to the Blond Duck's office, with the air conditioning running through our fur (even if you won't admit it, I know you have fur, it's blue.) Even when we were in Shreveport and the evil white Chihuahua Ace kidnapped you, you were not tempted. You did not let him chew on your tail. Because you are mine. And I am yours.


It's true. He loves that dolphin.



We've made it through some rough times, dolphin o'mine. But even when I tore your mouth open and flung your stitching around the living room, you forgave me. You knew I was young and stupid. Now your smile is even prettier.




When we're together, I'm fall into a daze of happiness. My eyes glaze over, my jaw clamps snugly around your tail and sometimes, I even fall to sleep curled in the crook of your blue back.



The thing I love best about you, Dolphin? You don't judge me. You love my wuffles, think my pooch is adorable and giggle at my terrible gas. When Bitty lets out her famous banshee screams in the middle of the night, you are always there to comfort me. You love me for who I am, wuffles and all.

Oh Dolphin. How I love thee. I wuffle only for you.


Love,

Bear

(Wuffle)

Mexican Chili and Sunflowers

Here in the Pond, the early winds of autumn have began to blow. This week, we were blessed with the cool temperatures of 83 degree days. One day, it was only 79 degrees for the high!



It may sound sweltering to you, but let me assure you that those of us used to 100 degrees plus shiver in 80 degrees.

In fact, this wonderful weather is so inspirational I wanted to wrap myself up in a sweater, grab a good book and cook a thick, tasty soup.

Well, it's still too hot for a sweater. But I always have the book and soup!




With a husband from Louisiana, I have to have food with flavor (spicy flavor.) Luckily, he had a bowl of my mom's chicken chili the other day and was in heaven. He loved the soup so much he dragged me around two stores looking for barley so we could make it.



Chicken, three types of beans, corns, barley, jalapenos, green chilies...you can't get much better than that. And a side of cornbread with butter and honey? I think I might be in heaven.



Never mind. Now I'm in heaven. What? Don't look at me like that. Chips and cheese never hurt anyone. Just think of it as tortilla soup.


Not only have I been stuffing myself stupid while I enjoy the weather (it'll be back to 90 by the weekend), but I've been admiring these.




You see, Tuesday when I came back to work, I had a terrible day. It was one of those days when your boss pulls you into the office right after you walk in the door and tells you about how changes in the company that have nothing to do with you will completely change your job. It's nothing you did or said, it's simply business and company economics. Even though it wasn't personal and I had suspected it for months now, it still hit me hard.



But these made me smile. Not only was Ben sweet enough to go pick up flowers for me, he presented me with an early birthday gift of a new IPod Shuffle. I'd broken my other one and had been suffering for months through terrible 1980s music at the gym.

I promise you, it's bad 1980s music.



Not only that, but he fixed me eggs, bacon and pancakes for dinner. Who needs grilled chicken and healthy veggies when the work world has knocked you around?

After all, nothing makes one smile like a sunflowers and a sweet husband.





This recipe originally appeared in Light and Tasty. However, as all cooks do, my mother altered it. Here is her version:

Debbie's Mexican Chicken Chili

One large onion, chopped (I used onion powder)
One garlic clove, minced ( I used garlic powder)
1 tblspn olive oil
1 can of green chilies, chopped
1 can jalapenos, chopped
1 can (16 oz) of chili beans, undrained
1 can (16 oz) of pinto beans, rinsed and drained
1 can (16 oz) of black beans, rinsed and drained
1 can (15 oz) tomato sauce
1 can (14 oz) diced tomatoes, undrained
1 can chicken broth
2-3 tblspns chili powder
1/2 tsp. pepper
Several drops of Cholula

In a big pot or dutch oven, saute onion and garlic in oil for two minutes. Stir in remaining ingredients, bring to boil. Reduce heat and let simmer for 30 or more minutes until barley is tender.

Freeze

It was dark when Callie padded into her grandmother's kitchen. She knew it was way past her bedtime. Way way past her bedtime, she thought sleepily to herself, as her eyelids grated against her eyes like sandpaper. Every step felt like she was wading through liquid lead. Still, she was determined that tonight would be the night. It had to be. Her parents were coming back from their getaway tomorrow morning. She had to know what was in the freezer. For the animals' sake, if not her own.

Cracking open her tiny play oven, she whispered, "Are you ready?"

"Ready?" a caramel giraffe peered up at her. "We've been waiting for hours! Where have you been?"

"Sorry," Callie apologized. She held out her hand and the giraffe hopped onto it. "I had to wait for my grandparents to go to sleep. It was Bridge Night, so it took a little longer than normal."

"It's not like an event like this happens everyday," the giraffe sniffed, stretching out his long neck in disapproval. "The freezer solstice will end as soon as the sun rises. If there are any creatures in the freezer, we'll never find out by the way we're moving along!"

"Now don't be rude," a pink hippo admonished him, hopping onto Callie's still outstretched hand. "I'm sure we'll find out soon. Besides, what are we going to do if the stories aren't true?"

A baby blue elephant followed, trumpeting his trunk in delight. Pink bubbles streamed from his trunk as he hopped onto Callie's palm. "I hope they are true," he chirped. "I'd love to find some new friends to join our little group." He squealed and bubbles filled the air.

"Oh no!" Callie cried, patting the elephant's sticky head gingerly with her pinkie. "Are you upset?"

"On the contrary, I'm exhilarated!" the elephant cried, spinning in circles and tripping over her thumb. "Why would I be upset?"

"Because you're blowing bubbles," Callie said, her head wrinkled in confusion. "The pink hippo"--

"My name is Sassafrilla," the hippo interrupted, curtsying on Callie's wrist. "I thought we told you our names already."

"Not yet," Callie said as she tried to make sense of the conversation. "But anyway"--

"My name is George Hambleton Leafton the Third," the giraffe proclaimed, flinging his tiny head into the air with a haughty toss.

"And mine is Bubbles," the elephant giggled, "For obvious reasons." With every giggle, a large pink bubble popped from his trunk. "Why did you think I was upset, again?"

"Because Sassafrilla said when you get excited you blow Bubbles," Callie stuttered.

"He blows bubbles for any reason," Sassafrilla said dismissively. "When he's excited, when he's happy, when he's sad....bubbles, bubbles and more bubbles!"

"I think you're underestimating the bubbles," the giraffe said, peering at Callie as he lumbered up her forearm. "There's lots of bubbles. All the time."

"It's true!" Bubbles giggled. "I love bubbles!" As if to prove his point, pink bubblegum bubbles filled the air. Callie giggled as they floated around her face, gently drifting around her.

George Hambleton Leafton the Third huffed and bobbed his tiny head. "Are we going to stand around and blow bubbles all day or are we going to open the freezer?"

"You're such a spoilsport," Sassafrilla grumbled.

"Do you really think that the freezer will have candy creatures in it?" Bubbles asked. He blushed as a bubble popped from his other end. "Excuse me," he murmured.

"There's only one way to find out," Callie said. Taking a deep breath, she padded to the tiny freezer her aunt had given her. Like most of her kitchen, it was either old appliances no one wanted or that her grandfather had built, like her oven and kitchen set. The freezer was one of Callie's favorite things in her kitchen for two reasons. The first was that her aunt had given it to her. The second was that if you plugged it in, a little green light blinked on the front. It never got cold of course, because it was broken. But just the fact it could plug in and had a light delighted Callie.

"Ready?" Callie whispered. Gripping the plastic handle, she swung the freezer door open. Her eyes grew large and she drew in her breath.

"What is it?" Bubbles asked.

"Are there animals?" Sassafrilla asked.

"For God's sake, let us see it!" George Hambleton Leafton the Third snapped. Callie raised her arm up to the edge of the freezer. The animals gasped, their eyes wide.

The freezer was filled with creatures. In one corner bounced chocolate fudge balls. They giggled as they hopped onto one another, piling up like brown snowmen with pecan eyes before they tumbled down again. In another corner, Popsicles danced a jig with fudge bars and rolled along with the ice cream cakes.

"Look!" Sassafrilla whispered, nudging Callie. It was all she could do not to clap her hands in delight. Tiny polar bears lounged on glaciers of vanilla ice cream, as chocolate whales splashed in the frozen ocean of Kool-Aid. Penguins quacked as they scuttled over ice cubes and a group of reindeer scuttled right over Callie's fingers as they chased a ball thrown by the polar bears.

Callie burst out laughing as the reindeer crashed into the freezer wall, sprawling all over the floor with their gangly limbs everywhere. The animals all froze in place. They stared at Callie, taking in the sight of a baby blue elephant, pink hippo and caramel giraffe watching them.

Clearing her throat, Sassafrilla stepped forward and broke the silence. "Hello," she said. "We're the candy creatures. We heard you were having a Fall Freezer party and thought we'd stop by..."

"We just wanted to make new friends," Bubbles burst out as bubbles poured from his trunk.

The polar bears scratched their heads as the reindeer scrambled to their feet. A tiny black penguin scuttled this way. He held out his flipper to Sassafrilla.

"Hello," he said, shaking her pink hoof. "We've been looking forward to meeting you! Won't you join us? We're about to have a ice skating race."

The animals turned back to look at Callie. She grinned and nodded.

After all, it was already past her bedtime.

Ask Me Anything

A lot of my wonderful Invisible Friends have been curious about certain aspects of my life, from my writing to why I'm fanatical about pie. So I've compiled a list of questions, including questions from creatures around the Pond. Nothing is off limits! Enjoy, and feel free to ask me anything! Tomorrow stay tuned for the candy animals! (Yes, I've been teasing this for awhile, but it's really happening tomorrow.)

The Blond Duck on writing


Prudy asked: "When do you do writing?"

I write a lot, usually in the mornings before I work out (I get up before 5 a.m.) and on the weekends. I write the stories for my blogs either the night before or sometime during work (shameless, I know!). I do a little writing at night, but my best stuff is in the morning or early afternoon.


"When did you start writing?"


Since I was young. In the fourth grade, I had several notebooks filled with stories of a bus full of kids that went on a field trip and wound up on a jungle adventure. (It makes me cringe now!) I also entered a playwriting contest and the judge was kind enough to send me three pages of a positive critique. Of course, being the little princess I am, I was annoyed I didn't win. In middle school I wrote plays for my drama class and in high school I wrote bad poetry that was actually published in the school literary magazine.

I'm not posting it. It's too bad.

I didn't seriously get back into writing until my senior year of college, when I wrote my first book Diary of the Reluctant Bride. It's not published and will probably never be published, which is a really good thing. I wrote a lot of short children's stories like Fuzz the Lint Gremlin and The Peanut Butter Monster, which were also rejected by publishers. At that point, I got frustrated. I felt like my stories were too weird, too out there, too non-traditional for publishers.

A friend encouraged me to try women's fiction, and I wrote a book about a couple falling in love from a dog's point of view. The book received a lot of agent attention, but ultimately was denied. I haven't given up on it. I'm thinking about tweaking it so it's from a YA (young adult book) perspective.

My newest venture is a middle grade (8-13) children's novel about a little girl that finds a dolphin in her swimming pool and embarks on a ocean adventure called Deep Blue Dolphin. It's in the final edits and I plan to submit it in the next month or so.

However, I have several plans to publish books on my own, which you'll see below.

You can't say I'm not persistent!

"How much time do you spend editing?"

For the stories on my blog, about 15 minutes. I scan over them, change a few things, do spell check, look over them again, and click publish.

I'm an editor's nightmare.

But honestly, I find my best stuff is raw and natural. If I over think it, I dumb it down and take all the creativity out in order to "please others." That's why most of my stuff that comes from a compulsion comes out here.

"How do you crank (your stories) out so quickly and flawlessly?"

I'm so glad you think they're flawless! It only takes me about 30 minutes to write a story. I have no idea how I do it, I just know I have to do it. So I do.


Doggybloggy asked: "How do you come up with your stories?"

I don't know.

I seriously don't. I came up with Miss Pickles in the shower two years ago when I was considering being a teacher. The Land of the Flowered Bed was a random story I wrote one day. The Enchanted Jewel Box came when I was dancing around my sister's room in Austin and staring at her jewelery box.

Sometimes I get ideas walking or driving down the road. Honestly, I feel almost like I spend my days twirling and leaping down the road and my "brilliant" ideas are fluttering by like tiny butterflies. When I'm lucky, they land on my nose. Once that happens, I physically twitch until I can get to a computer and type out the story.

Do you plot out your stories?

Normally, they just all come out. Sometimes I plot them out, but usually after I've already written a story. I find my best stuff comes out in installments, like Miss Pickles--a long series of short stories. I have no idea why. The books I write tend to have that kind of pacing as well.

Will Miss Pickles be a book?

Miss Pickles was a book two years ago. Unfortunately, I got annoyed with the restrictions of the publishing industry and shoved it deep in my hard drive. Now she's back, though her story is entirely different than the original book.

It will be a new book. Soon.

You're so talented! Why aren't you published?

I have no idea. I'll bake a pie for whoever will publish me first! An apple pie! A peanut butter pie! Whatever you like!

Do you want to be published?

Desperately. However, like any independent Texan princess, I've decided to quit waiting around and take matters into my own hands. I have a secret project that will be announced soon. On top of that, I'm turning the Missing Wings series I did this summer into a book. I plan to use my dear Invisible Friends as a sounding board to create the first blog-sponsored book, whether I publish it through lulu.com or a private publishing company. I'm very excited about this!

And if you think the stuff on the blog about Missing Wings was good, wait until you see the new stuff. (If I do say so myself!)

However, I am pursuing traditional publishing. I just have several goals that I don't think will fit into the traditional publishing model. Want further details? E-mail me! As you know, you can never tilt your full hand...



I'm totally confused. I think you're crazy. Do you really talk to creatures?

Who wants to know?

I'm new to the Pond. How many stories do you have, exactly?

There are dozens of stories about random creatures and critters. Long time favorites include the The GLUG, the The Argumentative Birds and The Land of the Flowered Bed.

The newest series are the candy animals ( tomorrow!), Missing Wings, Miss Pickles (see yesterday's post) and Enchanted Jewels.

What is the Land of the Flowered Bed?

The Land of the Flowered Bed is a series of short stories based on a group of stuffed animals and magical creatures living in a little girl's bedroom, referred to as the girl or Blond Duck. There are also three ducks (based on rubber ducks) that live in the Spa, which is really a bathroom. And there are Lint Gremlins and Dust Bunnies in the Land Under the Bed.

They are based on a real group of stuffed animals that are really on my bed. And yes, I have a flowered bed cover.

The Blond Duck on food

What's your favorite type of pie?


In this order:


1) Apple crumbly pie

2) Pecan pie

3) Coconut cream pie.

4) Pumpkin pie.

5) Cobbler- apple, berry, peach.

However, I hate lemon and lime and am allergic to chocolate. I know. I'm weird.

What's your ideal meal?

Oh, boy. I guess a bacon cheeseburger, chicken fried steak, french fries, mashed potatoes, macaroni cheese, green beans, wheat buttery rolls, apple pie and peanut butter pie.

I never said I didn't like to eat.

What about barbecue?

And barbecue. I love barbecue. As ya'll know, I got married at a barbecue restaurant.

The Blond Duck on the Blond Duck

Why are you called the Blond Duck?

Because I'm a natural blond and it's a big part of my identity. (Trust me, it's a great excuse. I'm sorry, I can't do that. Why not? I'm blond.)


The duck part came from my obsession over rubber duckies in college that has taken over two bathrooms in two different cities, my cubicle, several t-shirts and now this blog. As I like to say, be a happy duckie!

Who are you exactly?

I'm a princess.

No, really, who are you?

A cute, fabulous, darling, creative princess. With a cute prince. And several tiaras.

I'm only going to ask one more time....

Ok, fine. In reality, I'm a writer that lives in the Pond named Miranda. I'm married to my college sweetheart and best friend, Ben. We've got two Chihuahua puppies, Bitty and Bear. My day job is as a writer/ editor for a magazine for a national media group. I'm obsessed with peanut butter and pie, work out all the time to combat those obsessions and dance every day.

So what if I've posted this picture a million times of the Babies? It's cute, dang it! And I like it!

I also enjoy conversing with butterflies, twirling down streets and writing stories. My goal is to be a brilliant children's writer that delights young and old with delightful, whimsical stories that make you want to have fun!

Marie asked: When did you know Ben was the one for you?

To be frank, I was intensely curious about him when we met because I had never met anyone like him before. We met second semester of college freshman year at Jason's Deli. I was wearing workout clothes and no make up. I had tagged along with a group of guy friends, so I had no reason to dress up.

At first glance, I thought Ben was a popular frat boy with a cute Southern accent. As we sat at the table talking with my friends, I became fascinated by him. He hated fraternities, was charismatic and fun and completely like anyone I had ever met.

I knew we were going to get married after an argument. We'd been dating for almost a year, and I don't even remember what we were fussing about. I just remember he told me not to worry, that we could work through it and change anything. I burst into tears and knew that no matter what happened, we could make it through anything.

And considering we got married, bought a house, moved three hours away and graduated Baylor University in the month of May in 2006, I guess we did.

Bunny asked: Do you have any siblings?

I've got a darling sister who's a junior in college right now. She's studying interior design. I'm going to hire her to make my house look pretty, since I'm too busy talking to lizards and argumentative birds.

So that's it, Invisible Friends! Feel free to send me anymore questions! And stay tuned for the next edition of Candy Animals tomorrow.

For once, I'm glad it won't be all about me.

(But it will be this weekend on my birthday!)

Miss Pickles enjoys twirling

"Well," Miss Pickles said as she surveyed the lava ocean in front of them. "This does present a bit of the problem. I've got to be getting the duckies back soon." She looked at Jasper. "Any chance we could come back the way we came?"

Jasper shook his head, a solemn expression on his granite-like face. "Unless you've got a plane or some extra wings in there, I'm afraid not. This rock is too hard for me to even climb up." He held up his curved clawed hands. "How fast do you have to have them back?"

"By the end of the afternoon," Miss Pickles said. Jasper gave a low whisper and shook his head.

"The only folks who can help you are right there," he said, pointing to the red creatures scurrying around a black boat, their flaming heads flickering as they scuttled up and down the ship sailing across the lava. "And unless we can get to them, we're kinda stuck. The lava by the rock is too cool for them to get close to us. Plus, the boat is too hot for the kids to ride in. They'll sizzle like bacon."

"Bacon," Ralph said dreamily, wiping the drool from his chin.

"If you don't stop mentioning bacon, he's going to go into one of his moods," Don warned, glaring at Jasper.

"What kind of mood?" Jasper asked, his skin crinkling up around the laser in his forehead.

"I love bacon," Ralph cooed, licking his lips and clasping his hands together. "Bacon with pancakes...bacon cheeseburgers...bacon sandwiches..."

"Now you've done it!" Don snapped, smacking his hand to his forehead. "I've got to go find something bacon-like for him to eat now. Good job."

"I adore bacon." Ralph sighed as drool trembled off his chubby chin. "Canadian bacon pizza, BLTs....bacon and beans..."

Ignoring his friends, Mason continued to stare straight ahead. When Ralph was hungry for over an hour, he tended to sink into a food obsessed coma-like state that lasted until he had been fed. It was the very reason Ralph's mother packed him enough food to feed an army every day. He wasn't worried. In fact, Mason was so enthralled by the creatures frolicking in front of him that it took him a minute to notice Miss Pickles digging around in her purse.

"What are you looking for?" Don asked, standing on his tiptoes as he tried to peer in her purse.

"Bacon," Ralph howled, wrapping his arms around Miss Pickles and burying his head into her stomach. "Spinach and bacon dip, turkey and bacon sandwiches....any kind of bacon!"

"Hold on duckies," Miss Pickles muttered, as she literally stuck her head into her purse. She carefully detached Ralph, who immediately clutched onto Don. Taking a deep breath, Miss Pickles leaped off the ground and dove into her purse. Only her pink rain boots remained visible as the cloth bag bulged and clanging and tingling noises filled the air.

Mason continued to stare straight ahead, fascinated by the red creatures with flaming heads. "What are they?" he asked Jasper.

"Those are the Fireflies," Jasper said, the green light in his skull twinkling. "They live here among the lava and underground volcanoes, stoking the fires to heat Earth's surface."

"Why do they ride dragons if they can fly?" Beatrice asked, pushing her glasses on the bridge of her nose.

"Those aren't dragons," Mason argued. "They're dinosaurs."

"Nope," Beatrice replied smugly. She bent down and fished a book from her backpack. Clearing her throat, she adjusted her glasses and cracked the book open. "Skin of green, scales of glass, throats of fire, the dragons of past." Simpering, she held the book out to him and pointed to an illustration of a dragon.

"So you can read a fairy tale book," Mason snarled. "Big whoop."

"Mason," Jasper said quietly. "She's right. Look closer." He stretched out his long arms and gestured with his curved claws. Stepping closer to the lava bubbling at the edge of the obsidian plateau they stood on, Mason peered at the fireflies frolicking on the volcanic island. As the lava hissed around his toes, he stared at the great green creatures with curving necks. From here, he could barely make out tiny leathery wings and strong muscular arms and legs. As much as he hated to admit it, Beatrice was right. Swallowing hard, he turned to admit defeat.

"Singing frogs and toadstools, I've got it!" Miss Pickles shouted, emerging from her purse with a triumphant grin. Mason hid a grin, trying not to giggle at the a squirrel that was clinging to her curls and the piggy bank that was stuck in her earring. The squirrel chattered and grasped at her scalp and Miss Pickles scowled. The class giggled and Jasper laughed so loudly tears leaked down his strange face.

"Nuts, get back in there," Miss Pickles shouted, plucking the squirrel from her head and dropping it back in her purse. The piggy bank continued to dangle. "He always was the needy sort."

"Miss Pickles, what did you find?" Beatrice asked, shooting another smirk towards Mason. He glowered and considered shoving her in the lava.

"Bacon?" Ralph asked hopefully.

"NO BACON!" the class bellowed. Ralph sulked and a single tear dripped down his cheek. "Bacon..." he whispered mournfully.

"I've got something better than bacon, duckie," Miss Pickles said, thrusting a red scarf into the air. "I've got our ticket to the Fireflies' land."

"A scarf?" Jasper asked, raising his eyebrow.

"Pardon me, Miss Pickles, but given the temperature of the lava and the lack of water, we're all going to suffer from dehydration shortly," Beatrice chirped, taking a sip of her own water bottle. "May I suggest we return to a more suitable climate as soon as possible?"

"I could call some of my digger buddies and see if they can dig us out," Jasper offered.

Miss Pickles just grinned. "Mason," she said, turning to him. "What do you think?"

Mason looked at the Fireflies, watching how the glow of the blue flames curling from their head danced off the black volcano island. He watched how the green scales of the dragons shimmered against the red glare of the lava. He turned back to Miss Pickles and grinned. She smiled back. With a cackle, she held a corner of the scarf in each hand.

And then she twirled. Giggling and laughing, she twirled and twirled and circles.

"What's she doing?" Don shouted. "She's our guardian. She can't go crazy!"

"Someone give her some water, now!" Beatrice shouted, flinging the water from her canteen as Miss Pickles. "She's dehydrated and delusional." Jasper started towards her as all the children gathered together in fear.

"She's having an adventure," Mason shouted, blocking his path. "Give her a moment." He turned watched Miss Pickles twirl across the dusty rock. As she twirled, the scarf grew bigger and bigger. It ballooned behind her as it fluttered in the hot air, flipping and twisting like a flag in the wind. Flipping it in front of her, Miss Pickles watched as the enormous scarf slowly fluttered to the ground.

"Get on, duckies," she beamed, pointing to the scarf.

Everyone stared at her.

"Well, come on now, get on," Miss Pickles said, tapping her pink rain boot impatiently.

The children shuffled their feet and gave each other worried glances.

"Have I ever been wrong before?" Miss Pickles asked. "Where's your sense of adventure?"

Mason looked at his classmates. They looked as terrified as he felt. Taking a deep breath, he leaped forward into the center of the scarf.

"Right here!" he shouted, throwing his head up. Miss Pickles beamed and clapped her hands together. "Good show, duckie!" she shouted.

"This has got to be illegal," Don grumbled, dragging Ralph behind him. One by one, each of the other children climbed onto the scarf. Jasper stood at the edge, scratching his head.

"I'm too heavy to get on," he said, looking at the tall edges of the cliffs around them with a pained expression. "I'll have to dig my way up."

Miss Pickles merely raised an eyebrow. Without another word, Jasper scrambled onto the scarf.

"Now sit down, duckies," Miss Pickles said, scuttling around and grasping each of the four corners of the scarf. As the fabric drew over their heads, Mason felt panic rise in his chest. What if Miss Pickles was a crazy lunatic who was going to kill them? What if she wasn't a substitutesteacher at all, but a psychopath or even worse--a lunch lady? Fear gripped his throat and he opened his mouth in a silent scream. Surrounded by the scarlet silk, Mason flipped over into Beatrice as he felt the scarf spinning in the air.

Suddenly, they were all jostling into each other as they were hurled through the sky. Mason could hear the crackling and hissing of the lava underneath him and feel the waves of heat through the thin silk. Sucking in the hot air in big gulps, he gripped Don and Ralph's hands.

Then they crashed to the floor. As the children jabbered and shouted in angry voices, Mason struggled out of the red fabric. He gulped.

They had landed in the middle of a glass castle. Fireflies were streaming towards them, some flying through the air, some riding dragons. He heard a cackle above him. Automatically, he glanced toward the sky.

"See duckie?" Miss Pickles shouted as she floated down with her parasol. "I told you to trust me!"

To be continued.....


Also, I answer any questions tomorrow! So if there's anything about me you want to know, ask now!