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Chapter 18b: Pranks & Thanks & Ptolemy-ce Cream Part II

11/27/2016

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The children, of course, asked me why I gave Ptolemy some pumpernickel and a handful of acorns before we walked off and headed toward the Library Tree to meet dear Caesar Emeritus. Of course it was for the gallons of his Ptolemy-ce cream he'd be bringing to our celebration at the Sacred Pub later that night, but I didn't tell them quite that much. I only told them it was part of a surprise to be revealed to them after our busy day in the Xanadu Forest. 

As we made our way toward the Library Tree, ever so slowly, cherishing every step, I told Weasel and Butterfly more about Caesar Emeritus, the Baloo-eyed Akita they would soon be meeting--for you will remember that Caesar Emeritus is now the forever librarian there. The children seemed pleasantly intrigued to hear that dear Caesar was giving me homework assignments and teaching me the ancient Xanaduvian language. They reminded me how I had begun to learn the Xanaduvian language before, but that I hadn't followed through. I sighed and acknowledged my failure, and did my best to use it as a positive example for them. I told them I hoped that they would never abandon their studies the way that I did, and reminded them that they were both very gifted, and that I was very proud of them. They seemed to take that to heart. At least they weren't bickering, and that is always a good sign!

Caesar Emeritus, of course, was very happy to greet us when we entered the Library Tree. "Well, hello, KeV! These must be the precious ones I've heard so much about!" he said, and he approached us, and placed his massive tender paws gently upon Weasel and Butterfly's respective shoulders. Then he shook my hand with both paws, and led my children further inside. Weasel and Butterfly scanned the Library Tree with a sense of wonder, chewing on and digesting pleasant memories, I presumed. And they were. It brought me a great feeling of warmth to feel them feeling home again. Caesar Emeritus continued pleasant small talk with my children as they plopped down upon the Love Seat, and they returned the pleasant small talk. I stood quietly, looking on, and chewing on and digesting the moment. And I smiled, of course. Weasel and Butterfly smiled at my smile. 

At a point in the conversation, Weasel said to Caesar Emeritus, "My dad says you are very smart."

Butterfly added, "Yeah, super smart!"

I do believe dear Caesar blushed a bit, then he replied, "That's very kind of your father to say." Then the blushing evaporated, and he said, "I prefer to think that I have just been blessed with the gift of observance." Then Caesar Emeritus looked into Weasel's eyes, and continued, "For instance, I observed you placing that whoopie cushion upon my desk chair, even though you believed me unaware."

"I see," Weasel replied thoughtfully, then paused for just a blink before asking dear Caesar, "But did you see the one I put under there?"

Caesar turned to look toward his desk and asked, "Under where?"

Then Butterfly and Weasel giggled, and I giggled too, though Weasel's giggle was more of a snicker. 

Caesar Emeritus was obviously quite stumped, but as any great Emeritus would do, he stood tall and adjusted his golden robe, looked each of us in the eye, and said in a most dignified tone, "Apparently there are some aspects of Xanaduvian humor I've yet to discover."

Butterfly wasted no time at all telling dear Caesar, "Weasel just made you say 'underwear,'" as her giggling became laughter. Caesar laughed with us at last, and we all digested a happy moment.

Once the laughter had subsided, Butterfly hopped off of the Love Seat and told Caesar Emeritus that she had been practicing very hard on her telekinesis and that she was getting very good at it. Weasel looked at me and rolled his eyes. I smiled proudly at both of them. "Wanna see?" she finally asked the Baloo-eyed Akita. 

Caesar Emeritus smiled at Butterfly and said to her, "That's wonderful! I'd love to see a demonstration. But I have an idea: you can see how vast our Tree Library is--how very close to endless it is? Before you were to leave, I was hoping to have each of you select a book  to take with you on your journeys. What if you were to use your telekinesis to select books for you? How would that be?" And he placed his massive tender paw gently upon Butterfly's shoulder. 

Butterfly liked this idea very much, of course, and she seemed to stand taller as she smiled up at him...and I smiled at her, though she didn't see. She brushed away dear Caesar's massive tender paw gently and politely, closed her eyes, and began to concentrate. Soon thereafter a book from a very high shelf landed in her wing, and she opened her eyes with pride. "The Last Xanaduvian Princess," Butterfly announced to us, and added that it was written by King Midas LeBottom. She was so intrigued that Caesar Emeritus had to remind her she still needed to select a book for her brother. Butterfly tucked her book away, and regained her concentration. Another book from a high shelf landed in her wing, and she was intrigued as she was with the first one. "The Illustrated Adventures of Captain Beautiful and Maybe Baybe," she told us it was called, as she hesitated handing it over to Weasel. 

I cringed a bit as Butterfly handed the book to Weasel, for I knew the book well. I knew well that it chronicled a part of my life previously unknown to my children, and I wondered how they might feel about it, if indeed they recognized it was about me...which I suspected they would. The "Illustrated" in the title made it much more worrisome for me. Weasel held the book in his paws and thumbed through the pages, certainly intrigued. If he suspected it was me, he didn't let on, and I was grateful for that. I was also grateful the illustrations were highly exaggerated comic book type drawings. I felt it best not to speak of it for the time being, and suggested to both of them that we should be going soon, for we still had to pick out a very special dress for Butterfly. That intrigued Butterfly enough to convince Weasel to close his book, gather his things, and head for the door. 

We all embraced dear Caesar Emeritus, and I secretly confirmed with him that he'd see us later that night at the Sacred Pub. A wink and a nod, you know. 

Just as we were about to exit the Library Tree, however, Butterfly stopped us and said, "Wait! I didn't pick out a book for Dad yet! He's on a journey too, you know." None of us could argue with her, so we kept our peace and let her concentrate once more. Her budding telekinesis skills landed a book called "The Road Less Traveled" directly into my hands. I was highly intrigued. I knew the book well, of course, and had read it a few times already. Its return seemed significant. I smiled, and thanked Butterfly, told her again how proud I was of both of them, and we were off to the home of the Otterman Empire before we knew it. [Loyal readers will remember, of course, that the Otterman wives and daughters are the finest seamstresses in all of Interterrestria]

We had a good walk through the Xanadu Forest before we arrived in the Otterman Empire, for it is far north, not far from the banks of my sister the River, my children's aunt. I reminded Weasel of his special dream his aunt gave him, and encouraged both my children to admire their aunt's beauty as we walked beside her. We talked about a great many things...some silly, some poignant, some little more than small talk. 

We were treated with the greatest kindness, of course, when we finally entered the seamstress' shop and introduced ourselves to sisters Sally and Sadie Otterman. They gave us the most divine of frosted sugar cookies, and small cups of lilac tea. We enjoyed them thoroughly, and I explained to the sisters that we needed the perfect dress for Butterfly for a very special occasion. Thankfully, Sally and Sadie provided Butterfly with the perfect dress that she was most honored to wear--and I was able to give them their due pumpernickel--before we were hastily asked to leave after Weasel set off a smoke bomb. Only Weasel laughed at that one. I tried very hard to apologize for my son's behavior to the Otterman sisters, but they would have none of it...they only shoved us out the door--politely as they could, given the circumstances. 

Needless to say, our long walk back to my sacred garden was very quiet much of the way. Weasel, to his small credit, did eventually somewhat apologize for the smoke bomb incident, but he failed in convincing Butterfly and I that "It was funny, though, you have to admit." Butterfly called him "Stupid" a time or three, and I sighed and glared at both of them. One beautiful moment we experienced on our way back to my sacred garden was when Butterfly commented on what a beautiful dress her aunt, the River wore, and Weasel agreed. That was a nice moment, and one I'll not soon forget.

We passed through the garden gate at just the right time, I believe, since I was running out of ways to lecture my kids while still letting them know I was genuinely proud of them. Edwin the Bee rested silently upon His lotus flower--eyes shut--as we entered, and Cousin Eddie was nowhere to be seen. My lovely gatekeeper, Raven, of course, was faithfully upon Achilles' Last Stand and greeted us enthusiastically.

"Quite a day you guys have had!" she said, and added that she was glad I had the chance to introduce the children to Madeleine.

"Oh, Madeleine AOL instant messaged you?" I asked, and my children sheepishly greeted Raven. 

Raven stopped pecking at the keys on her laptop (which she rarely does!) and turned toward me, saying, "Weeelllllll...not exactly. I did get an AOL instant message from her account, but it said 'I just farted,' which I found rather suspicious you  know, as she normally doesn't report such things to me."

Weasel smiled sheepishly as we all looked toward him immediately and Butterfly whispered "Stupid" again. I glared at Weasel for a second then started apologizing to Raven. 

But Raven interrupted me, saying, "Aaaanddd...I happened to notice that our cloud servers were renamed. Are you ready for this? They are now called--"

I looked at Weasel for less than a second, then interrupted my lovely gatekeeper with, "Oh no," and I placed my palm pleadingly upon my forehead. 

"Yesssss," Raven continued, "our servers are now officially named 'Dr. Penis Ostrich.' I can't imagine why, of course." Then Raven gave Weasel her patented blank stare, and all of us sort of snickered. Butterfly actually laughed out loud, as did Cousin Eddie, who had suddenly emerged from his beer can garage. He'll never admit to it, but yes, even Edwin the Bee snickered and snorted a bit during His meditation. 

I honestly tried to apologize sincerely to my lovely gatekeeper again, and assure her that I'd have Weasel change it back right away, but it was very hard to apologize to her when she was wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. As we all were. Ultimately, Raven gathered her composure and said, "Actually, nonsensical and crude as it is, the name is sort of catchy. It has a nice ring to it. Plus, it's not one anyone else would ever guess, and required a good amount of imagination to create. I think we should keep it." 

And so that's how the cloud servers of my sacred garden came to be named "Dr. Penis Ostrich." It's also how I came to learn the AOL Instant Messenger user names of my lovely gatekeeper, and my sweet boss at the county clerk's office. I will likely get the patented blank stare for sharing this information with the reader, but I simply cannot resist:

My boss Madeleine, the albino peacock, is known as "Madeleine12" on AOL.
And my lovely gatekeeper is known on AOL as "SexyBird555." 
Please don't tell them that I told you.

Thank you all for being out there. I love you.
XX







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Chapter 18a: Pranks & Thanks & Ptolemy-ce Cream Part I

11/23/2016

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I woke slowly, and alone upon the Persian rug, to the familiar sound of bickering--this time in the direction of our lovely garden gate. I dawdled not too long upon waking, for I knew of a certainty the bickering would soon find its way to the Persian rug. I ultimately met it halfway as I made my way toward the garden gate.

Butterfly was a few steps ahead of Weasel when she said, "Dad, Weasel farted in my space suit!"

I was halfway through assuring Butterfly that Weasel's fart would soon dissipate when Weasel himself interjected, "Yeah, AFTER she used her telekinesis to put my boots on the top of the highest tree!" 

I sighed, of course. Then I gestured for them both to come toward me, and I put my hands upon their shoulders as I guided us all toward the garden gate. On the way I assured Weasel we'd find a way to get his boots down from the tree, and I assured Butterfly that--even though Weasel's fart had infiltrated the regulator and oxygen lines--it would still ultimately dissipate, and there would be no stench or unpleasant flavor at all. If they didn't completely believe me, at least they were content humoring me. I distracted them further by telling them we had quite a busy day ahead of us, and I hinted at something extra special that would be happening at the end of the busy day. They were successfully intrigued, and all hints of bickering evaporated.

We arrived at Achilles' Last Stand, where my lovely gatekeeper was pecking away at her laptop. We had all nearly finished our greetings to her, when Cousin Eddie suddenly emerged from his beer can garage and the entire sacred garden erupted in laughter (yes, even Edwin the Bee!). You see--for the first time ever--we saw Cousin Eddie with bright pink circles around his eyes, carrying a pair of binoculars. And all but one of us wondered if this was some sort of new "look" he was experimenting with...and we continued chuckling, of course.

Cousin Eddie was hardly concerned with our laughter at his expense, though, as he gave us a condescending look, shrugged his shoulders, and handed the binoculars back to Weasel. He told Weasel, "They just needed a minor adjustment. They should focus just fine now." We all snickered, but Weasel snickered just a bit more, and thanked Cousin Eddie.

After a few minor updates from my lovely gatekeeper, Butterfly, Weasel, and I were off to our busy day in the Xanadu Forest--after Weasel made us wait for him to retrieve his shovel, of course--because, as he told me-- "You just never know when a hole will need to be dug." And then we waited once more once Butterfly remembered she needed to retrieve her purse she had just purchased in Lemmington. 

Butterfly taunted me a bit as I explained to them both  we were headed to the county clerk's office first, so that they could meet Madeleine, and also that I needed to pick up a document from her. Weasel told Butterfly to shut up, but it never did become actual bickering. That was nice. 

We caught sweet Madeleine--the albino peacock--a bit off guard as we entered the office; for she appeared to be trying on outfits and practicing poses in front of the full-length mirror...and she had apparently applied more than a subtle amount of makeup to herself. I was happy to see this, of course.

"Oh...hi. I wasn't expecting anyone in the office today," Madeleine said, somewhat awkwardly. Then she turned, brushed some powder off her wings, and continued, "These must be the precious ones Raven AOL instant messaged me about!" And she extended her wings, and hugged them both--one at a time, of course. "It's so nice to meet you," she concluded.

The kids wandered away from my side and began exploring the office as I confirmed with Madeleine that Reginald III had already picked up the property taxes and receipts. He had, and I was happy to hear he didn't suspect a thing. My plan was working! (I didn't say that out loud, of course, though I imagined a nice fist pump while thinking it). Madeleine headed back over to her desk, retrieved her glasses from the drawer, and straightened them upon her face as she sat down. 

I leaned over Madeleine's desk just a bit and said, "I'll need a signed vendor's permit for Ptolemy of the Record Emporium, if you don't mind, sweet Madeleine...I mean, when you have the chance. I can't say out loud just what he'll be vending, if you get my drift." Then I smiled as charmingly as I could, and winked at her.

"Well of course I can provide that right away, sweet KeV," Madeleine replied, and began pecking away at her keyboard. And she continued, "And of course I understand completely." And then she winked beautifully at me. 

As if on cue, Butterfly emerged between us and said to Madeleine, "You're pretty. I can see why my dad likes you."

Also as if on cue, Weasel spared us another awkward moment by rushing over to Madeleine's side and telling her that there were shortcuts to what she was doing on the computer. "I'm top of my class at electronic information transfer," Weasel told her. Then he politely pushed her aside and demonstrated his knowledge via her keyboard. "See, just like that," he concluded, and just like that the vendor's permit was printed...awaiting only Madeleine's signature. And mine. And they were both shortly thereafter provided. Madeleine seemed genuinely impressed, and I smiled proudly. And I winked back at her, of course.

Madeleine stepped out from behind her desk, rolled the vendor's permit, and handed it to me. And she smiled so sweetly. And I smiled so sweetly back to her. And I confirmed that she'd see us later tonight at the big event. And Madeleine confirmed. Weasel had taken over Madeleine's chair behind the desk, and tapped away at the keyboard, though none of us really noticed. 

And Butterfly interjected, "Look, Madeleine, you should wear this one tonight!" And butterfly used her telekinesis to lift a lovely dress out of the old server (now costume) closet and let it hover just in front of sweet Madeleine. Madeleine grabbed the lovely dress out of the air and held it over her body as a sign of acknowledgement. Madeleine seemed impressed again, and that made me smile...again. 

Almost before we realized it, Butterfly, Weasel, and I were off to meet Ptolemy at the old Record Emporium, which really wasn't so far of a walk as our conversation made it seem. Butterfly opened the discussion by saying, "You know,  I'm okay if you and Madeleine get married, Dad. She's nice. And pretty. I like her."

Weasel added "Geez, Butterfly!" to the conversation. 

I spent several steps toward the old Record Emporium adding to the conversation by explaining that Madeleine and I weren't even dating, let alone getting married. And I spent many more steps explaining that Madeleine was my boss, and that we should all be respectful of that. 

Butterfly was not content humoring me in this case, and said, "But you said you and Madeleine--or 'sweet Madeleine, as you call her--had your thing. So that means--"

I cut Butterfly off right then and there, and actually raised my palm toward Butterfly saying, "Whoa! You guys have grown up way too fast!" And I tapped Butterfly gently upon her chest and continued, "Look, I appreciate you giving me your blessing, my dear Butterfly, but honestly it's not like that. And you both seriously need to stop growing up so fast!" Then we all laughed and found ourselves at the old Record Emporium. 

I'm not sure what my kids were thinking when we discovered the great boxer, Ptolemy, manning a table outside the old Record Emporium, but I personally was surprised. See, when critters enter our Xanadu Forest, there is normally a bit of an adjustment period--and Ptolemy had just recently arrived! In fact, I hadn't even met him yet. Normally I greet new inhabitants at the garden gate when they enter our forest and introduce them to their new eternal home. But in this case Captain Leo and my kids had unexpectedly crashed their rocket into my sacred garden the night before, and I had no chance to play my role as a sort of Mr. Rourke. It turns out my lovely gatekeeper Raven had performed the duties this time...and it seems she might have done a much better job at it than I normally do--for Ptolemy was quite obviously already well-adjusted and completely at home in the Xanadu Forest. 

"Greetings, happy strangers!" were the first words I heard Ptolemy speak. He continued, "I am Ptolemy, the boxer...lover of all things innocent, and maker of the finest dairy desserts in all of Interterrestra. Can I interest you in a sample?" He stood proud and waved his paw above an assortment of small bowls filled with ice cream.

Butterfly was the first to bite--both literally and figuratively--and she was quick to tell us all how yummy it tasted. I extended my hand toward Ptolemy (which he grasped and shook vigorously with his warm paw) and I told him, "It's so nice to finally meet you. I am KeV from the sacred garden. I see Mitzy delivered your supplies ahead of schedule!" 

"Indeed," Ptolemy replied, and he offered up a small bowl of ice cream to Weasel, who seemed to thoroughly enjoy it. And Ptolemy continued, "So you are the KeV I've heard so much about! It's wonderful to finally meet you. I take it these are your precious younglings?" And Ptolemy handed me a small bowl of ice cream just as his question ended.

I took the bowl, and a couple of bites of ice cream, and thoroughly enjoyed them, then replied, "Mmm. This is fantastic! Yes...this is my daughter Butterfly, and my son Weasel." I finished the delectable dairy dessert, and set my empty bowl down on the table next to Butterfly and Weasel's empty bowls, and smiled as Ptolemy embraced my children warmly--one at a time, of course.

As if on cue, the fattest of the fat squirrels on Walnut St. entered our happy moment out of nowhere and interjected, "I don't suppose you have a permit for this little operation?!" Yes, it was the dreaded Reginald III, the self-appointed (sort of--hey, we all make mistakes, right?) mayor of the Xanadu Forest, and causer of myriad troubles during my sad and lengthy absence from my sacred garden. I was very smug when I informed Reginald III that Ptolemy actually DID have a permit for this flourishing operation, and I produced the freshly signed and rolled document. 

"Hmm," Reginald III muttered as he looked over the document, and looked up at Ptolemy. "It seems to be in order, assuming proper property taxes are made at the proper time." 

I knew, of course, this would confuse Ptolemy, so I interjected immediately, "Well, of course, Reginald III, you will know that I know that you know that this property is exempt from all proper property taxes--which is proper, since, it is officially under the jurisdiction of the sacred garden--which is of course always exempt from all such proper property taxes. I can get Edwin the Bee to properly confirm this for you, if you find it necessary."

"No, that won't necessarily be necessary," Reginald III sneered. Then the fat squirrel added, "You will know, of course, that I know that you know that this document will need my signature, however, in order to be officially official. I don't suppose you have a pen handy?"

As if on cue, Weasel proudly pulled a pen out of his pocket and offered it to Reginald III, saying "Here. Use this one. I always have a pen handy." The fat squirrel took the pen, then pressed the button to expose the ink, then shrieked and fell to the ground shaking. For you see, it was a trick pen which emitted quite an electric charge when the button was pressed. All present--fat squirrels excluded--emitted quite an electric laugh at Reginald III's expense, though Ptolemy was kind enough to help the fat squirrel back up to his feet. Reginald III sneered again and mumbled something I can't repeat here. But ultimately he did sign the document and shortly thereafter adjusted his hat, grabbed his briefcase, and disappeared into the forest. 

Once Reginald III was far enough off in the distance, we laughed some more and welcomed dear Ptolemy to the Xanadu Forest once again, and soon thereafter we were off to the library tree to meet dear Caesar Emeritus. 

*This chapter has run too long. To be continued. Very soon.*

Gratitude of gratitudes, and lovely of lovelies. Always.

Thank you. XX
























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Chapter 17b: Guys & Dolls & Fantabulous Paws Part II

11/17/2016

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Just seconds after Butterfly, Raven, and Captain Leo had left for Lemmington, Weasel swung his arms, clapped his hands together softly, and asked, "Well, what should we do first?"

Before I could answer, however, Cousin Eddie blurted out, "What you should do first is put on a record album and play it loud!" Then Cousin Eddie slugged down another beer. I looked over at Edwin the Bee's lotus flower, and even the suggestion of playing a loud record was enough for poor Edwin to yank His little shower curtain shut.

[for those readers new to these stories, Edwin the Bee has a circular ring with a shower curtain on it atop his lotus flower. Most of the time it is open, but if we are making too much noise, or even just annoying him too much, he pulls the shower curtain shut. You see, it is a magic shower curtain, and when it is closed it blocks out all sounds so that Edwin can have absolute silence]

I decided to let Weasel pick out a record album to play for Cousin Eddie, though I had to assist with powering up the stereo and starting the record, of course. I was honestly curious what sort of record he might choose, and Weasel passed my secret little test with flying colors by choosing a Van Halen record. We played it loud so that Cousin Eddie could hear it easily from Achilles' Last Stand, and we were able to hear him shouting and screaming along with the record, quite happy with Weasel's choice of course! 

After that, I decided to walk Weasel over to Freddie's Pond of Fanciness just to sort of reminisce, and also to see what paths he would remember. Weasel commented on there being a lot of disgusting overgrowth on the way to the pond, and I told him how I was sad and had left the garden for a couple of years after they left to study starmapping, and that the disgusting overgrowth took over while I was away. I took Weasel round to the other side of the pond so I could show him areas where Cousin Eddie and I had already cleared away the disgusting overgrowth. There was a long way to go, but I was making progress, I explained, and that there was something very soothing about clearing it away each day, just a little bit at a time.

Weasel concurred. Then he said, "We should clear away some of the overgrowth together. I think that would be good. Do you still have mine and Mongoose's old shovels?"

I smiled a huge smile, of course--oh so very proud of this young man--and told him, "Yes, of course. Your old shovel is up in the tree house. And Cousin Eddie made me a device we decided to call the de-disgustinator that we've been using. What a great idea, Weasel!" With that we were off to the old tree house, though of course Weasel hadn't seen it since Cousin Eddie and I had painted it as a gift for my lovely gatekeeper. 

"Why does it say 'The Out Door' on the door to the treehouse?" was the first comment Weasel made regarding the new paint job."

I chuckled a bit, and answered, "It's kind of a joke. It's from a Led Zeppelin record called 'In Through The Out Door.' Led Zeppelin is Raven's favorite band, you know, and Cousin Eddie and I painted it special as a gift for her...so all of the paintings on it are from Led Zeppelin songs and record albums."

Weasel seemed to think that was pretty cool. And I thought it was pretty cool that he seemed to think it was pretty cool. Then we climbed the "Stairway To Heaven" up and inside of the tree house. "Whoa, dad, what's that treasure chest?!! I don't remember that there before! Can we open it?"

I replied, "Actually, now that you mention it, you're right...that treasure chest wasn't there before. I'm honestly not sure where it used to be stored when you guys were here. But yes, we can open it. We just can't take the stuff out of the tree house is all."

Weasel's eyes had grown huge with enthusiasm as we knelt down in front of the treasure chest and he unlatched the hasp. But only for a second! Oh how his expression changed after he opened the lid and looked inside. "Aww, dad, this is just junk!"

"What do you mean junk? These are some of the greatest treasures that ever existed!"

Weasel started pulling out items one at a time and showing them to me to prove that there was nothing but junk inside the treasure chest. "A salt shaker? Really?!!"

"That is Jimmy Buffett's lost shaker of salt...the very one he wrote about in the song. An amazing treasure!"

Weasel continued, "A dumb red key chain?"

"A key chain made from strips of leather cut from Mike Reno's pants," I added. "Of course that's treasure!"

Weasel thought he had me with the next item, "Okay, now how can a plush toy rainbow possibly be treasure?"

"Ahh, my dear Weasel," I nearly sneered, and I added a phony British accent for emphasis,"that must indeed be the rarest of rare treasures, my son, for that is the very rainbow that Johnny Nash was praying for!"

Weasel burst out laughing after that and said, "Dad, you're so full of crap...you have to be! Now what about this one? A crusty bandage wrap?!!"

I dropped the British accent and told Weasel, "No way, dude. This stuff is all treasure, it really is! That bandage wrap has a very special story behind it." I took it from Weasel's hands and unwrapped it. "You'd be too young to remember, I think, but where the Persian rug is now, there used to be a cottage. We never stayed inside the cottage, but guests used to come through once in a while and stay there. The very last guest that stayed in the cottage before we destroyed it and took it down was Rod Stewart. He was recovering from knee surgery and came here to heal for a few days before he went back out on tour. So that is Rod Stewart's bandage wrap he left behind."

Weasel's face suddenly turned introspective, and he asked, "Why did you tear the cottage down?"

I scooted closer over to Weasel upon the floor and told him, "I don't want to go into the whole story, for there are things that must never be uttered or even thought about in our sacred garden. We had to learn that the hard way. I can tell you that there was a time when darkness tried very hard to take over our sacred garden, and it very nearly did. We had no choice but to destroy and remove the cottage. It was the only way to save the sacred garden from darkness. It was replaced of course with the Persian rug which we all know so well, and which has only ever been a happy happy place." 

And for all that I explained, Weasel simply replied, "Interesting." Then he stood up, found his old shovel propped up in the corner, and said, "Well, I'm glad you guys saved it." And we climbed back down the Stairway To Heaven and began de-disgustinating more areas of our sacred garden. 

We worked steadily, but at a leisurely pace, since our work was a most leisurely work. We discussed many great things while clearing the garden--some of them deep and emotional and some of them just silly. And there were other guy sounds we made too--from both ends, of course--and more than once or twice. 

At one point, while we were discussing his and Butterfly's studies, Weasel became a bit sheepish and, I suppose, was wisely trying to get out in front of it, saying, "To be honest, dad, I haven't been doing very well with my studies at the academy in Mangnik. I've been doing fine on my starmapping when we're out with Captain Leo, but I'm having a harder time inside the academy. I think I'm kind of like you...I mean how you said you got sad and left the sacred garden after we left. But see, you came back and you're doing so much better now, I can feel it. And though Butterfly and me will have to go back soon, I think I needed this time here too. And I'm going to start doing better at my studies. I promise."

I was so proud of my son, once again. It seemed every time I thought I had realized how much he had grown, his very next sentence would prove me wrong--since he had actually grown even more! "Well I'm very proud of both of you," I told him, and added, "And you are a lot like me in many ways, you're right, Weasel. That's why the River Zoe spoke to you last night. You and I have our special gifts and abilities, just like Butterfly is getting very advanced with her telekinesis. And no, as I can feel you wondering, I've never had telekinetic abilities either. But I'm very happy with the gifts and abilities I've been given." 

Weasel smiled and wiped some sweat from his forehead. Then he said, "Yeah, it's cool to be able to feel stuff like that, I know what you mean. I can always feel when you think of me, you know, and no matter how far across the universe we are, I can always feel how you're doing. And even though I'm just the kid, and you're the grown up, I'm proud of you too. I know it's been pretty hard for you, and you've done a good job working through it. And Butterfly and me are doing good too, and we're happy, so you never need to worry about us."

Both of us having been content with the amount of quality conversation we shared, we decided to wrap up our de-disgustinating for the day and started heading over toward the Persian rug. During the walk, Weasel and I discussed how much progress we had made, concluded that our progress was indeed much, and decided officially that we make a very good team. 

I decided to lie down for a bit upon the Persian rug, and Weasel was sifting through record albums again, presumably looking for a soft one to play. I had no chance to shut my eyes, however, as a loud and enthusiastic Butterfly came darting out of the bushes. "Dad, Weasel, come on! We've got the coolest stuff to show you. Hurry up!"

When we had arrived near the garden gate, the first thing I noticed was that my lovely gatekeeper had an annoyed face. I knew this couldn't be good, since I've never seen her with an annoyed face before. Patented blank stare, yes. Annoyed face, no. Then I understood why! Cousin Eddie had left empty beer cans all over Achilles' Last Stand, and there were even some beer splatters on her now famous laptop. Cousin Eddie tried to calm her by assuring her he never turned on the laptop or messed with it at all. And because my gatekeeper is a lovely gatekeeper, she actually let his attempt at calming her work, and she did calm down...even as she was removing beer cans from Achilles' Last Stand and, one by one, chucking them at Cousin Eddie's garage. After the last of the beer cans had been tossed, Raven slapped her wings upon Achilles' Last Stand, let out one loud, long sigh, then said, "There. Much better." Then she looked at me and said, "We had the loveliest of times. Butterfly was a most wonderful companion."

I looked off to the side to see Butterfly showing Weasel some things she had picked up in Lemmington, as I replied to my lovely gatekeeper, "Oh, good. I'm so happy to hear that, and I can see how happy she is and how much she enjoyed it."

Butterfly finished showing Weasel the things she wanted to show him, apparently, because she shouted out to me, "Dad, come here! You gotta see this!" I approached her, and she was holding a little paper sack. She touched my hand and said, "Now close your eyes. Good. Now open your hand. And don't worry, I'm not going to put anything gross in it, I promise. Okay, good. Now open them!" I honestly didn't know what the little lump was she had put in my hand, and said as much. "It's so awesome, dad! It's a magic anagram message pod. You whisper something from your heart to it when you plant it, and when the flowers bloom, the letters to your secret message are on the petals...but they're all jumbled up so you have to solve it like a puzzle. Isn't that cool?! We all got one, so maybe we can plant them tomorrow."

I was genuinely awed and excited when I said, "Wow...that is super awesome! I love that!"

"And guess what else, dad?" Butterfly went on, then interrupted herself, "Hey Captain Leo, come over here so you can show my dad!" Leo came over right away and sort of rolled his eyes as he held up his paws in front of me. "Look, dad...we talked Captain Leo into getting a pawdicure! He really didn't want one, but he loved it once they were doing it. Don't his paws look fantabulous? I picked out the design. I mean, Captain Leo picked out the color and wanted the shiny purple nail polish, but I had them put little moons and stars on them since he's a starmapper captain. Cool, huh?!" Weasel came over and looked at Captain Leo's pawdicure too, but he didn't say anything about it.

Then Butterfly flitted off for a few seconds and reappeared just like that shouting, "And in case you thought that was all, you'd be wrong! Ta-da!!! Giant bags of popcorn...one  super extra buttery and the other one caramel. Cuz you know why?!! That's right, cuz it's movie night, yay!!!"

Actually we were all very excited to hear about movie night...even Edwin opened up His shower curtain and smiled. Movie nights in my sacred garden are very special, you know. Cousin Eddie went and retrieved the very large sheet we use as a movie screen, and Raven gathered her projector attachments and powered up her laptop. Cousin Eddie called out to Weasel and asked him to come help set up the movie screen. That was very nice of Cousin Eddie to do that, for it gave Butterfly and I a few minutes alone to walk and talk as everyone began gathering on the Persian rug. 

Much like my conversations with Weasel, Butterfly and I had great conversation that was sometimes touching and sentimental, and sometimes silly and absurd. We loved each other, and we told each other that much. And I, of course, told her how proud of her I am, to which she replied, "I know. I'm really good at the academy, and telekinesis." 

Cousin Eddie had finished suspending our movie screen from the line of trees along the northern edge of the Persian rug, and Raven had her laptop up and ready to go. Butterfly was in charge of passing out popcorn, and I put myself in charge of our pile of pillows. We were finally set. I lie my head upon the center of the pile of pillows, Butterfly on my left, and Weasel on my right. Butterfly commented on how beautiful it was that all the stars and the moon were shining above us so bright. Weasel proudly informed her that the moon and the stars were my cousins, and Butterfly wasn't believing it. I was about to tell Butterfly that it actually is true, but someone shushed me from right behind and above me, which meant it had to be Edwin. So I said no more. 

Tonight's feature? "Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark." Beautiful. Wonderful. Peaceful. Grateful. Oh what a night.

I love you
​XX 










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Chapter 17a: Guys & Dolls & Fantabulous Paws Part I

11/16/2016

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Waking up next to my children upon the Persian rug for the first time in a great while was, of course, a wonderful and comforting experience. Technically, I woke up next to one of them only, since by the time I woke, Butterfly was off somewhere doing her lovely Butterfly thing. Weasel also had woken before me, but chose to lie next to me, and was scanning the forest from the comfort of our pile of pillows. 

Before we shook off the covers and stood up, Weasel looked at me and said sleepily, "I had a weird dream. The river spoke to me and she said how nice it was to have us home." Then Weasel yawned and stretched.

I sat up and smiled softly, still enjoying the comfort of the blanket, and replied, "That was very kind of her. Did she tell you who she is?"

Weasel sat up too, and began to slide out from  under the blanket, answering, "She said her name is Zoe. And she said she hoped we'd come visit her. I know Zoe is the River that runs behind our sacred garden." 

Then Weasel and I tossed the blanket aside and stood upon the Persian rug, now fully awake. "She is indeed the beautiful River that runs behind our sacred garden," I said, and continued, "and I learned not so long ago that she is also my sister...which means she's your beautiful aunt."

That caught Weasel's attention right away, as he was already off sifting through a stack of records next to the stereo system, and he turned to look at me, asking "So what you're saying is that Edwin the Bee is my grandpa?"

I laughed heartily, and placed my hand upon his shoulder, so as to start guiding us toward the garden gate, where we would surely find Butterfly and the others. "Yep, Edwin is your mostly crabby Grandpa, though I'm not sure if He'd like you calling Him that or not. Since you're a cute kid, He'd probably be okay with it. Maybe. I don't know. I know he doesn't like me to call him Dad," and I laughed again and Weasel smiled, and we made our way to the garden gate.

As I had suspected, the others were all gathered near the garden gate. Cousin Eddie was wearing a chef's hat and an apron (thankfully, NOT made out of beer cans), and was preoccupied at the oven (which WAS thankfully made out of beer cans). Edwin the Bee was upon His lotus flower, as would always be expected, and His eyes were closed tightly. Butterfly and my lovely gatekeeper were seated comfortably next to one another upon Achilles' Last Stand, and my lovely gatekeeper was apparently sharing some sort of wisdom with her, by way of her now famous laptop--teaching Butterfly about digital art, I had presumed. Butterfly was staring intently at Raven's laptop, and munching on what looked to me like a khaki-colored hockey puck. 

Butterfly heard mine and Weasel's footsteps well before we could greet anyone, and she looked up and said, "Oh, hi Dad. Guess what? Cousin Eddie made us honey cakes, and they're super yummy. You should have one.' Then Butterfly took another bite, looked at Weasel, and said, "Cousin Eddie even showed me how to make them." Then Butterfly took another bite and looked at me again, continuing, "And guess what else, dad? Raven was showing me how she made a picture of Jimmy Page. And Jimi Hendrix. It's really cool. And she even made a picture of you, dad. You should see it." 

Weasel wandered over to Cousin Eddie's beer can oven and stood next to him, and watched in wonder. I laughed, and told Butterfly, "Yes, Raven has made a few very cool pictures of me! She is very gifted." I walked up behind Butterfly and Raven, and Achilles' Last Stand, and put my hands on their respective shoulders, looking at the laptop screen. "Good morning, O loveliest of lovely gatekeepers," I said softly. 

Raven continued plucking away on her laptop, losing not even a bit of focus, but did respond, "Good morning, Sleepyhead senior. And yes, I've already notified Madeleine that Captain Leo and your children arrived last night, so she knows not to expect you in the office for at least the next few days." 

I smiled, and spoke to Raven, "And how do you know I wasn't actually planning on going in to work? The children are safe and well-provided for here." I noticed Weasel and Cousin Eddie engaged in some sort of deep conversation regarding the beer can oven. I imagined Weasel was trying to explain the science behind the beer can oven, attempting to convince himself it could really work. 

That actually DID distract my lovely gatekeeper, and I believe she coughed up some honey cake crumbs when she turned to face me and laughed so hard and loud, "Now THAT's rich! You don't even go to work when your kids AREN'T here!" Butterfly looked at me and nodded, as if she were Raven's exclamation point. 

Weasel brought me a warm and fresh honey cake, and stood by my side as I replied to my lovely gatekeeper, "Yeah, but that was before Madeleine and I had our thing. It's different now." Now that last statement of mine, of course, caught my kids off guard. Their eyes opened wider and they stared into my soul. 

Never one to beat around the bush, Butterfly asked bluntly, "Your're dating your boss, dad?!!"

I began to respond, "Well no...I mean not really. But see, the other day--"

Then Weasel interrupted, and told Butterfly, "Geez, Butterfly, just because dad gets along with his boss doesn't mean they're dating."

Then my lovely gatekeeper, I'm sure trying to be helpful in some way or another, added, "Well, your dad does really like her." Then Raven acted as if she had said nothing, and went back to pecking away on her laptop. 

I looked over at Edwin's lotus flower as I searched for the right words to say, and I do believe I caught Him snickering, though His eyes remained shut. And just then, so miraculously timed, Captain Leo appeared from the trees and shouted, "Good morning all!" He was carrying a clipboard and seemed to be heading over to speak with Cousin Eddie...but he stopped off and licked my lovely gatekeeper a few times on the way. 

Butterfly hopped down off of Achilles' Last Stand and went to join Captain Leo and Cousin Eddie, who were now discussing the parts that would be needed to repair the rocket. I could feel that Weasel wanted more explanation regarding myself and my boss, Madeleine, and I was about to fill him in on recent events, when suddenly Mitzy the arctic fox showed up just outside the garden gate. Mitzy was propping up a dolly full of unmarked boxes.

Weasel and I approached Mitzy, and we all exchanged pleasantries. Mitzy seemed particularly happy to see that my children were here in my sacred garden with me, but he didn't mention it. Instead, he informed me the freezer had already been delivered to the Record Emporium, and assured me that Ptolemy the beautiful boxer was settling in just fine there. The dolly of unmarked boxes, he explained, were supplies for making ice cream, as Ptolemy himself had requested. Before I could thank Mitzy, Cousin Eddie, Captain Leo (and his clipboard), and Butterfly joined us at the garden gate, and a discussion about necessary rocket parts began to dominate the conversation. Butterfly and Weasel bickered quietly for a moment and pointed at Mitzy's unmarked boxes, then Butterfly flitted off and rejoined Raven upon Achilles' Last Stand. 

I stood silently, looking round my lovely family, even as Butterfly and Weasel continued their gentle bickering from afar, and Mitzy assured Captain Leo and Cousin Eddie he'd be able to get hold of the necessary rocket parts. I am always grateful, but this was one of those moments where I was even more than grateful. Not a moment I would soon forget. It was comfort and peace in the midst of a multitude of business, and not a trace of anxiety could be felt. Beautiful almost chaos. 

We all waved and wished Mitzy well, as he saluted, and turned his dolly toward the Record Emporium. Then we all huddled near the beer can oven and enjoyed another honey cake. Cousin Eddie took off his chef's hat and apron, suggested Raven and Captain Leo might enjoy a day alone together, and even offered to fulfill Raven's gatekeeping duties for the day. Raven seemed a bit hesitant, but ultimately acquiesced, once the rest of us decided it would be perfectly lovely if her and Captain Leo took a pleasant stroll to Lemmington. Butterfly, of course, remembered there was a fabulous market square in Lemmington, and blurted out, "Ooh, I wanna go!" I explained to Butterfly, of course, that it's not polite to invite yourself to other people's events, and, further, that Raven and Captain Leo hadn't seen each other in quite some time, so that it would be nice that they have their time alone together.

"Nonsense!" shouted my lovely gatekeeper, as she flew back over to Achilles' Last Stand and powered down her laptop. Then Raven smiled at Butterfly, and told her, "We are family, lovely Butterfly. Captain Leo and I would be honored if you'd come along with us to Lemmington."

Butterfly let out a very short "Yay!" and asked me for some acorns, just in case she might find something cool to buy in the market square, you know. I gave her both acorns, and pumpernickel, because one just never knows which currency they're wanting these days. 

Shortly thereafter, my lovely daughter Butterfly, my lovely gatekeeper Raven, and starmapper extraordinaire Captain Leo, were off to Lemmington for the day. Weasel and I looked at each other and smiled. Cousin Eddie took his seat upon Achilles' Last Stand, and considered powering up Raven's laptop...then decided against it, and cracked open a beer instead. As Butterfly, Raven, and Captain Leo were about to exit our sacred garden gate, Edwin the Bee opened His eyes, and smiled, and blessed them. 

*To be continued in Chapter 17b: Guys & Dolls & Fantabulous Paws Part II.*

​Tonight I am more grateful than usual, though I am always grateful. True family is a beautiful thing. I love you. XX



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Chapter 16: Captain Leo and the Junior Starmappers

11/9/2016

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Such a wonderful and amazing night it had been at the Sacred Pub, especially with sweet Madeleine the albino peacock--the suddenly proud and tipsy prom queen--by my side. Madeleine and I left the Sacred Pub just as we had arrived...wingtip in hand. We said very little to each other as I walked her to the county clerk's office where she stayed, though she adjusted her tiara a few times and spoke of how nice it was to be honored that way...and how handsome and charming the man in the squirrel costume was. It made me smile deeply to see her blossoming even more, and to discover so much joy from within herself. Our night together ended with a lengthy glitter squeeze, and a peck upon the beak. 

I was surprised to find my lovely gatekeeper, Raven, and Edwin the Bee in their usual posts when I passed through the garden gate...as they were still downing pints of Minute Mead and discussing songs on the jukebox when Madeleine and I left the Sacred Pub. A bit more than tipsy myself, I said nothing to either of them, but simply saluted the best I could and stumbled my way over to the Persian rug. I lie down peacefully, and blew a kiss to my cousins, the moon and the stars, and I was surely sleeping deeply even before my kiss had reached them. 

The deep and peaceful sleep didn't last very long though, as I was awoken by a thunderous crash that must have shook the ground for a great distance! I jumped straight up and tried to clear my eyes. Off behind the trees near the southern edge of Freddie's Pond of Fanciness I could see a blurry orange glow. Instinctively I hustled toward the garden gate, but Raven and Edwin the Bee were already headed toward the blurry orange glow. And I'm not sure what cousin Eddie the Raven had been doing, but I saw him rushing out of his little garage wearing a shower cap and fuzzy slippers. Now that was a first for me! Indeed there was more to learn about my clever soulmate. I tried to ask him about his unusual attire as he approached me, but he just shouted that there was no time for that now, and we both sprinted to the source of the thunderous crash. If you've never seen a raven sprinting while wearing a shower cap and fuzzy slippers, I highly recommend it. It's very entertaining, even in times of great stress and anxiety. 

We reached the the center of the orange glow very soon after, and it was no longer blurry. It was a crash indeed...literally! A rocket had plunged right into our sacred garden, mostly in the water of Freddie's Pond of Fanciness, and slightly upon the shore. The four of us stood in wonder as we looked upon it and approached the mysterious rocket slowly, and with caution. We took a few steps back when we heard a soft whirring sound, and a hatch began to open. A gloved paw emerged, then a space helmet, then the familiar sound of childish bickering. 

"Come on you two!" the helmeted critter shouted toward the open hatch as the space helmet was being removed. I don't believe I'd ever seen my lovely gatekeeper sprint so quickly (normally she would fly gracefully, or just magically appear), but sprint like mad she did, and nearly tackled the critter, while squeezing out any oxygen that might have still been in the space suit. And for good reason! For this was not just any critter...no, this was her dear and loving companion Leo, the golden cocker retriever, and once official starmapper of my sacred garden. Raven and Leo embraced for several moments, and still no others had emerged from the rocket's hatch. I went to shake Leo's paw and greeted him warmly. Leo corrected me, informing me that he was now officially Captain Leo...and he suggested I might have better success than he at getting my children out of his rocket.

My children??!!! Holy crap!!! Now it was my turn to sprint, and I very nearly dove right into the rocket's hatch. I stuck my head inside and, indeed, there they were! Still bickering. Still beautiful. A bit larger than I had remembered. "Come on you two!"

Butterfly looked up first and said, "Oh, hi, Dad. I keep telling Weasel he should just have left his boots on, so now he's still messing with them."

Then Weasel glared at Butterfly as he fidgeted with the straps on his space boots and told her, "Well if you wouldn't have crashed the stupid rocket into the water, I wouldn't have needed them! I told you just to let Captain Leo do it, but nooo, you just HAD to try another landing." Then Weasel looked up at me, apparently finished putting on his space boots, and he told me, "And of course Butterfly failed!"

I laughed and motioned them both toward the hatch. "You guys never really change, do you?" I chortled, and took Weasel and Butterfly's hands and helped lift them out of the rocket. "I can't believe you guys are here! It's so great to see you!!!" And we all hugged, right there at the rocket's hatch. Weasel and I hopped off it and splashed our way to shore. Butterfly hopped off last, and as she did so, the rocket slid slowly off the ground, and fully into the water of Freddie's Pond of Fanciness. And it sank, almost fully submerged. 

Weasel extended his hand toward Butterfly and said, "See, look what you've done now, Butterfly! Good job. Now you've wasted Captain Leo's rocket." 

Butterfly glared back at him and replied, "It wasn't my fault. All I did was--"

I interrupted what was sure to become a lengthy session of bickering and reassured them both, "It will be fine. We can have Douglas and Justin the dragon life partners come and pull the rocket out of the water later on. And if it's in need of repairs, I'm sure Cousin Eddie will be able to fix it. Come on, let's get you guys settled in." As I turned, I noticed how much the others enjoyed watching me unite with my children once again...even Edwin the Bee was smiling (that's a rarity for him!). 

Raven hugged my children warmly, and flew off to the tree house to retrieve a couple towels to dry them off. Cousin Eddie also greeted the kids, then told us he was heading back to his garage, but would see us later in the day. Butterfly asked me why Cousin Eddie was wearing a shower cap and fuzzy slippers, and I told her honestly that I had wondered that myself. Edwin the Bee blessed the children then buzzed off to his lotus flower. Captain Leo began filling me in some of the puzzle pieces I had been missing, and all of us slowly made our way toward the Persian rug. 

Before we had completely left the scene of the rocket crash, however, Butterfly stopped us and said, "Dad, we don't need to call Douglas and Justin. I've been studying my telekinesis, working very hard at it. I'm really good at it now, you know. I bet I can get the rocket out of the pond." 

I looked over at Captain Leo, somewhat confused, and he just shrugged his shoulders as if to say, "Why not?" So I put my hand on Butterfly's shoulder and said, "That's super awesome! Let's see what you've got!" 

Butterfly was very excited for the opportunity to show off, and motioned for all of us to take a few steps back from her so she could concentrate better. Weasel chimed in, of course, "You can't lift the rocket out of the water, Butterfly! This is a rocket, not one of your dumb stuffed animals." Now I put my hand upon Weasel's shoulder, and gave him a knowing look. Weasel returned the knowing look, and said, "Okay, fine. We'll see."

We all remained silent as Butterfly closed her eyes and steadied her arms straight out in front of her toward the sunken rocket. I saw her breathe--in, so slowly and deeply-and orient her hands, head, and body. Once she had her bearings, she tilted her hands so subtly, exhaled ever so gently, and began to raise her arms. By Olympus, if that rocket didn't start to rise up out of the water! Slowly and steadily, Butterfly's eyes still closed tightly, it elevated even more until it was hovering well above the surface of Freddie's Pond of Fanciness. Not losing focus for even a fraction of a second, she raised the rocket higher, and higher still, motioned with her delicate hands and tilted it completely upright, so that it's nose was pointing at my cousins, the moon and the stars. I placed my hand upon Weasel's shoulder again, and gave him another knowing look, knowing he would be tempted to try and distract her. He held is peace and stood in wonder, as did Captain Leo and I, as we all looked on. Almost before we realized it, that rocket was standing proudly upon the solid ground of my sacred garden, just a few feet in front of my wonderful Butterfly daughter. 

Butterfly opened her eyes, exhaled again, admired her work for a moment, then looked over at me saying not a word at all, but smiled so proudly and even glowed a bit. I smiled back at her, and nodded at her a few times knowingly, and we all felt that moment's beauty. I don't believe a father could have been prouder. Then Butterfly looked over at Weasel, scrunched up her face, and said to him, "See! I told you I could do it."

Weasel looked over at the upright rocket sitting upon the ground, and over at Butterfly, then me, then Butterfly again, and simply said. "Hmm." Then he looked at me again and said, "Well, she did it. We should get dried off now and get some sleep. I'm sure we're all tired, I know I am." 

Most of our slow walk toward the Persian rug was occupied with Butterfly's excited boasting, and mine and Captain Leo's words of praise. Even Weasel had a kind word or two of congratulations for her. I guess my lovely children had grown after all. It was a wonderful and warm stroll across my sacred garden indeed.

My lovely gatekeeper Raven was there to meet us upon the Persian rug with towels and blankets. Many discussions took place as the kids dried themselves, and Weasel kicked his space boots off across the Persian rug. Butterfly very much enjoyed telling my lovely gatekeeper how she got Captain Leo's rocket out of the water...and Raven, of course, very much enjoyed hearing about it. Captain Leo gave me a couple more puzzle pieces I had been missing while I put a soft record onto the turntable. 

Behind me, Raven had adjusted the blankets and pillows, and very soon after that she tucked the three of us in, telling us once more how lovely it was to see us all together again. Butterfly lie to my left, and Weasel to my right, and we snuggled and told my lovely gatekeeper goodnight. Then Raven vanished, and we looked up at my cousins, the moon and the stars, and listened to the soft record play. I blew my cousins, the moon and the stars, a kiss, and Weasel asked me why I did that. Butterfly was already asleep. My cousins whispered softly to me that they adored my beautiful children and always would look after them as they explored the universes. I blew them another kiss, and so did Weasel. And we drifted off into the most wonderful of sleeps. 

Lovely of lovelies.
We are truly blessed. No matter what.
​XX









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    KeV Atomic was Xanadu Dead and is now both of them. 

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