Saturday, March 12, 2022

There is No Place Like Home

One of Chippy’s longtime loyal fans has emailed the Woodpilers a long list of suggestions on how to return from paradise island. One of the more creative ideas was to fuse quartz grains in the sand together and build a bridge back to the mainland. After using a hand magnifying glass the Woodpilers were successful and built 2 centimeters of bridge in one day. At this rate they should return to the Woodpile in about 10,000 years.

Bushy the Squirrel has been using his time on the island to catch up on the classics. He has been reading the “Wizard of Oz” out loud to a group of children during English class. To make himself more comfortable he uses the old magic red hat as a lounge chair. The kids have taken to calling it the “ruby slipper.” After a number of afternoon readings, Bushy had come to the most important part of the book. He closed his eyes, and in dramatic voice is said “There's no place like home" and clicked his paws together. He opened his eyes and looked around as if he was expecting to find himself back at the Woodpile. Sadly, he was still stranded on this island. Mentally he chided himself for even thinking such a silly magical saying from a kids book would actually work. With a bit of mischievous humor he repeated the famous line with a minor addition “There's no place like home in a blizzard." The kids cracked-up laughing and rolling around in the sand under the palm tree. Mrs. Spot, the Woodpile’s illustrious teacher, upon hearing the excessive noise went to scold the kids. She arrived just in time to see Bushy wink out of existence along with the “ruby slipper” hat!!!

In the meantime, at the Woodpile we had a week of gorgeous warm weather and all thoughts were on the arrival of spring. For reasons unexplainable by modern science temperatures dropped below freezing in a matter of minutes, the skies turned dark and ominous, and a blizzard hit us out of nowhere. After the white-out conditions subsided, we humans looked out the window to find to our amazement, Bushy huddled in a snowstorm looking a bid dazed and confused. Shaking off the snow he searched for the sunflower seeds he can smell all around him in the snow. He could be heard muttering to himself, “Be careful what you wish for.”

Brrrrr!

Where am I?

This can’t be the Woodpile, it is suppose to be springtime there.

Maybe I ended up in the Antarctic?

  Something about this place smells familiar. Wood smoke, wet logs, and something else.

Could that be a sunflower seed I smell? I would do anything for a sunflower seed after months of eating coconuts!

I found it!

Give it to me straight, how bad does my tail look?

 

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