“Oh no, not Mushroom Condo Village!” Fingle Daggadar Northstar said to his mother, Jin-Jangle Northstar, Fae-Mayor of Rushing Fairy Glen.
“Dear, you’ll have to live somewhere if you go off on your own.” Jin-Jangle said.
“But just look at them. Tiny, some of them are just barely taller than me!”
“Finn, darling, just live at home while you study toxicity eliminicity in Twist Trunk University.”
“Oh, mom, only dorkus fairistinkers live at home while they go to TTU.”
You welcome me with sweeping views, Continue reading
Each fairy breath of summer,
as it blows with loveliness,
inspires the blushing rose.
— Unknown
On the day Rose Fairy was born, a young family picnicked in the sunshine. Their chubby firstborn, Barnabus, wore a solemn smile and chewed on his fist. Then his father slipped on the stony ground, and fell smack, bang, boom on the ground with an “Ooof!” that could be heard for miles.
Barnabus’s mom cried out, “Charles, dear, are you okay? Is anything hurt?”
“My pride!” Barnabus’s dad answered with a hand rubbing his bottom, where he landed on the rocks, and straightening his glasses.
Barnabus removed his fist from his mouth, and drew in a deep breath.
Marcellino’s Grandfather Gerardo took him to meet his old school friend from his boarding school days. His friend had recently become King Bengal of Tropica Nadia, a small country off the coast of India. King Bengal lived in a splendid palace overlooking the sea.
Marcellino’s smile enchanted the king. The king invited him to a party for his young daughter, Sahara, in three days time. Marcellino was very happy, but his Grandfather Gerardo was worried. What should they bring little Sahara for a present? What do you buy for a ten year old princess?
Two children surprised a fairy. Mona, the fairy, was of the Swallowtail Fae. In the twinkle of an eye, she shifted to her butterfly form. She fluttered to a butterfly bush, then to a high hosta bloom. She watched the children.
The little girl pointed at her, “Stephano! I saw a fairy!” Mona wondered if she should flee.
Stefano laughed. “Isabella, that’s a butterfly,” He shook his head. “But we’re here to do a rain dance, remember?” He clapped his hands and stomped rhythmically in the grass. He danced in a circle, widdershins, and Isabella joined him, also clapping.
“We need to ask the Great Spirit for rain,” Stefano said. Mona was surprised the children knew of the Great Spirit.
Together the children chanted: “Great Spirit in the sky, the garden’s way too dry. Begging your pardon, please rescue our garden. Let rain clouds form and bring on the storm!”
Nothing happened. The sky stayed blue, and no clouds came. Stefano was crestfallen, but Isabella giggled about their prayer. “Mommy! We sang to the Great Spirit, and I saw a fairy!”
“Nana, where do the fairies hide?” Jana sprinkled water on the potted flowers with her red watering can.
“Dearest, they could be in the darkest parts of the pine tree. Between rocks in walls, in the curl of an unopened flower or in the wrinkled bark of a tree.”
Jana looked carefully in all those places, even peering into the furled petals of flowers, but nowhere did she see shimmering wings or shining faces. Then she lifted the leaves of a hosta just opening its white trumpets.
Although on vacation, I took a few moments while my flat tire is being repaired, to share this rain shower of awards with you. My children are reading books, riding the carousel and planning our lunch destination.
Thanks to Getting Rid of Boredom for the Sunshine Award. No one should have to suffer from boredom, and we all benefit for this cool blog’s search for all things fun and exciting! 🙂
And thanks to Leslie Jo at Tales of Wild Boomba for the Super Sweet Blogging Award. Leslie Jo never fails to make me laugh. She’s a great writer, who knows the magic of involving the reader.
Thanks to Ajaytao for his trio bouquet of super awards!! I hope you check out his site, he adds beauty and inspiration to your life and makes an ordinary day extraordinary.
A bit more rain fell on my way home with a newly repaired tire. Thanks to Blueribbonfair for making me officially part of the very nice WordPress Family! I hope you will visit her post, she has great arts and crafts and photographs and more!
I’m spending my days with mermaids, leaping fish, and pirates. My children have been laughing, my husband smiling and our days have been fun, despite rain, clouds and last night’s flat tire. Pointing our noses into the sea wind, we are peppered by salty spray. During moments of free Wi-fi I also was inspired by fellow bloggers, whose photographs make my mornings and evenings blossom with story ideas. To say a special thanks to commenters, followers, chance visitors and fairy tale lovers everywhere, here are a few pictures from my vacation, which has been stellar!
I’ve decided to take a vacation from the rules, and I will perhaps visit and nominate you for your very own rain shower of awards. Your odds of this happening dramatically rise from your commenting here. 🙂 Meanwhile, I will work on a new story involving a Dwarvish clan shaman and some magic beans inspired by VitPeyr’s top 5 sunrise. I hope you visit him, too, he has amazing photographs of Australia.
Peace, love, joy and magic to all of you!!
Brenda
“Do you believe in fairies? Say quick that you believe.
If you believe, clap your hands….
Every time a child says, ‘I don’t believe in fairies,’
there is a fairy somewhere that falls down dead. ”
— James M. Barrie, Peter Pan.
Eleanor did not believe in fairies, but she was careful never to say so, just in case. She could never be sure. Occasionally, if she clapped her hands in the garden among the long purple blooms of the butterfly bushes, it was her secret.
Eleanor was named for the former first lady, Eleanor Roosevelt. July Fourth had arrived, and she was very excited. She had been studying the Revolutionary War in school. She wished she was finally old enough to stay up and watch the fireworks. Since her mother was refusing to let her, to console herself, she read her favorite biography on Eleanor Roosevelt again. She asked her mother to read more about her on the internet, and surprise of surprises! Eleanor Roosevelt had commented on fairy godmothers.
Fairy Forlorn was the saddest fairy in Stream by the Wold. She had gotten lost one winter day, and had hibernated by herself all winter long under a mound of earth deep within the moor. In the spring, when the flowers nudged up through the soil, she searched and searched for her kind, but nowhere near Stream by the Wold could she find them. She searched in the trees.
Jeremiah was not a bullfrog (that was a vicious rumor). The solstice has passed, and Queen Elisabeta ordered all the bee fairies to pollinate until the sun went down. Jeremiah visited the lupine first. You can catch a glimpse here if you look close:
“Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild,
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world’s more full of weeping than you can understand.” – W.B. Yeats
Conla picked early sage in her garden. Her family traditionally made a lamb stew for their midsummer feast. Her mother, Bronwyn, was inside their house braising the lamb with spring onions and chives. Conla heard her neighbor’s voice, and turned to see him walking under their archway with its pink roses and purple clematis.
“I can’t find a thing! My jackets are missing their buttons. My trousers all have holes. My wallet and keys are missing again! Are you doing this to me?!” Conla’s neighbor in the white cottage next door was Seamus O’Flanagan. Their two houses were the only ones for miles in that wild part of County Wicklow. The American had retired and come to the old country to write and paint, in the county of his ancestors. His wispy white hair was standing up in the wind, and his cheeks were red with anger.
“You’re swaying,” Jenna said to her big sister Elaine. Elaine was standing on one foot, with her right foot on the opposite leg and her hands in front of her chest, as if praying.
“I’m balancing.” Elaine responded peacefully, raising her face to the sun shining on the deck and bringing her arms up like tree branches. Jenna liked that Elaine never got mad at her. Sometimes big people got mad at her unexpectedly. “This is tree pose,” Elaine continued. “Want to try?”
