Village News - A Swirling Mess of Menace, Leanings, and Time

Hello.  Me again.  I know, it has been a while, but there has been some stuff swirling around in the air these days.  There are those in our fair citizenry that would claim the “stuff swirling around in the air these days” is evil, but generally we can all agree in our fair village that the “stuff swirling around in the air these days” is messing around with time.  Things have sped along so fast this year that the usual spring flower progression went by in, what had to be, two weeks.  From sorrels to our fair state’s flower, the Trillium to Wild Geraniums to Dames Rocket and to the Locust Tree, they all came and went like splashes in a watercolor rain storm.  Gone.  And those who worked so hard to search the forests for fungi and tree water throughout the years, instead looked to be playing “Wack a Mole” amongst the trees.  It was all so Keystone Kop-ish.

Even though, it officially opened in January, it seemed like only yesterday that the Cube of Base Learning was a dangerous threat to our dear little hamlet, an ever-widening yawn cast down upon us by the God Who Eats Green Things and his Right Hand Deity.  Of course, today, we know the Cube to be a gift.  Hey, did you know the Cube of Base Learning has officially won the coveted Fully Functioning Fungus Award?  Yes, we are proud to receive this rare reward, especially when it is something that we can thrust into the noses of our neighbors.  Though, I believe that some of our fair villagers are taking this award too much to heart; they seem to be in a clamor and fight over who gets to use the Great Physical Hall deep inside the Cube of Base Learning.  It’s apparently sacred.  In fact, they have deliberately taken some of the local parades away from our parade season just to fight over the newly carved hall.  Sad, really, about the loss of parades.  I mean, what are those lonely old tractors going to do now? It was their one time in the year to be the center of attention and shine. I suppose they will give in to old age, forget they were ever useful and strong, and give into the inevitable act of rusting.  Or collapse in on themselves as so many barns have done after being “let out to pasture” by the old farmstead gang.  Anyway, many visitors to the Cube of Base Learning have now transversed the newly carved hallways and have come out to claim “enlightenment” (They just recently put lights in the Cube so folks can see.). 

Oh, the Forest of Milky Trees is back, and it is thicker and better than before.  Already we have laid witness to an early wave of white, yellow, and black striped visitors, and we have noticed an incremental jump in visitors from the honey domes, as well.  So far, there have been no reports of those cranky, yellow and black “sales buzzers” that showed up late in the season.  Thank goodness.  Oh, and there is a new attraction on the edge of The Forest of Milky Trees; it is dubbed “The Gauntlet of Redness.”  It is a glorious showing of all things...tomato...and basil, oregano, and chives.  It is poised to replace the great tomato fight at that festival in Italy...or was that oranges?...  And speaking of fights, The Forest of Milky Trees is slowly trying to overtake our Truffula Tree growth.  We have been trying diplomacy in the matter, but so far, no one is talking.  It is hard to say how this particular fight will end, but many are coming to the aid of the Truffula Tree stand.  Okay, I will will say it.  Yes, we are all taking a stand for the Truffula Trees. 

In matters of citizenship, it seems that a number of our fair citizens have come to the aid of Old Man Liszt, who has started to lean to the left these days.  Formerly known to list to the right, citizens started to complain that he has become a “leftist” when they noticed Old Man Liszt could no longer stay in his deck chair, that the wall on his right no longer offered the support and comfort that he once enjoyed.  Where Old Man Liszt blames the moles among us, the staff and those who have come to help right the now infamous senior citizen blame everything on an unknown young child, who had no accompanying adult on a recent visit to the Happy Leisure Acres Assisted Living Facility.  Apparently, the offending offspring of some unseen mother and father simply came into Old Man Liszt’s room and simply asked “why,” repeatedly.  It was discovered that a number of residents who reside at the Happy Leisure Acres Assisted Living Facility had shifted viewpoints, but it was Old Man Liszt who took the brunt.  This is what happens when the unguided young intermix the...one who are less inclined to change, I suppose.  Attempts to put the gentleman back into his old ways have proven difficult as Old Man Liszt seems to be fighting such corrections.  “Well, I suppose that it could simply be gravity as Old Man Liszt simply stares out into the open these days.  Occasionally, he will shout “moles” for some reason.  This scares everyone around him.  So, we have to calm him down and adjust his wheelchair cushion, then wipe the drool off the corner of his mouth,” said Serenity Comfort, the facility’s director.  It seems, for now, that the former member of the right shall have to remain...left.  Talks are scheduled to discuss what it all means for the balance of the institution and our fair village.

Oh, and last night at the monthly Village Elders Meeting, our fair chief of police denied the reports of an increase in violent crimes against our fair citizenry.  When pressed by our fair Village Elders, the chief acknowledged more night calls about kidnappings and out right vicious attacks on tender young ones.  The chief also had to acknowledge the recent sightings of a gang known as the “Grey Menace,” who have recently moved into our fair village, or more appropriately, taken over.  Those in attendance of last night’s gathering suggest any concerned villager should put up barriers to protect our tender young ones...at least, until the chief finds out what the Grey Menace want.  And those who attended last night’s meeting wish me to remind you to gather all your lawn scalpings and place them in the sacrificial offering pile just on the edge of town for the God Who Eats Green Things.  Thank you.

More on the “Grey Menace” and the “stuff swirling around in the air these days” as they might develop.  In the mean time, let us all face whatever life throws at us, even if it is nothing more than the weather which has been sometimes cranky, sometimes beautiful, but mostly, generally unpredictable, at least by those who use computer “models.”  I suppose it is hard to read between pixels, especially if the reception is like it is at my house.

The Incident Behind the Bouncy House

He stood there, staring at the end of his nose, eyes crossed.  The bee’s buzzing and fluttering made his nose tickle.  He just wanted to itch; he urgently wanted to sneeze.  He wanted to run around the yard doing that “get the hell off my nose” dance throughout the lawn.  But he would have fallen over, tripped and fell, only to feel a sharp pinch upon his nose tip.  And then he would have watched the swelling.  And then he would have laid witness to a death of one who labored so hard.  He knew this would happen because both his mom and his dad had said.  He wanted no sting, and certainly, he wanted no death, especially in between a bouncy house and a kiddie pool full of bubble water.  He was only investigating the color of the flowers, only contemplating the wonderful scent of the roses that were hidden behind the latex and plastic.  But, now, suddenly he found himself in a deep concentration upon matters of all “bee-kind.”  So, he held his breath and stood still.  

And then, he remembered hearing, or maybe he remembered being told, that bees were in trouble.  “Bee” kind to our favorite pollinator.  This was the boy’s thought as he stared hard into the end of his nose, causing the trees of the neatly kept yard to become multiplied by two.  Then, that thought lead to another that left him thinking upon the bat and the butterfly and other creatures that he loved so much.  All of them in trouble.  It made him think upon the great Timberwolf who was recently on the television, something about people fighting over the big dog, were they hunting him again?  And then, something about land...and air...and water...and planet....  

He did not understand; it was too much to consider amongst the laughter and clatter of an electric generator running air.  So, in a sigh of surrender, he fell hard on to the sod, smacked the ground hard with his “keester.”  In a panic, he suddenly thought, without any knowledge of the reason, about a big grass stain that would magically appear on his back pockets, that his mom would not be happy as those were his “good” shorts.

“Sorry, mom; it just happened.  I fell,” he said inside his head; besides, he was at his friend’s birthday party.  There was no change of wear.  

So, he sat with his “keester” deep into the yard.  And then, he realized that his “busy,” buzzy friend was now gone, no longer on the end of his nose.  He sat there, quite dumbfounded, uncertain whether the jolt of his landing, or the bothering of a fly about his head, had launched his friend wildly back into the air and far, far away.  He blinked a bit as he looked around to see all of his “human” friends running, activity to activity, around the yard of the birthday party, like the bee, who left his nose, did before the whole “nose landing” incident, flower to flower.  

One of the adults came over, a dad with a can in his hand.

“You okay kid?”

He looked up for a moment at the man and his can, water drops holding still, but hanging on for dear life, on the side of the metal.  The boy was impressed by how big and still the man stood high over him.  He squinted and blinked hard at the man with the can.  And then quietly, but with purpose, the boy simply said, “yeh, but are we?”