You Just Never Know

Once upon a time, there was a swamp that was home to many creatures, including…

… frogs. 

Two frogs decided to see the world.  They went hop-hop, hop-hop, hop-hop down the road in search of adventure.

They came to a big farm, and croaked out a cheery greeting to the dairy cows.

Then they went inside the big barn to explore.

There were so many new and exciting things to see in there!

But as they jumped about, they accidentally landed in a big pitcher of cream.

They tried to climb out, but the sides were too steep and slippery, and they slid back into the cream. Even frogs don’t like to die: they tried everything they could think of to escape.  When that didn’t work, they tried everything they couldn’t think of.

“It’s no use!” said the first frog. “We’re doomed!” And he sank down into the cream and disappeared.

But that second little frog…she kept swimming about with all her tiny frog might, just to keep from drowning.  The cream began to block her eyes and nose. Just when she thought she couldn’t swim another stroke, she felt something strange beneath her feet.  She was standing on a big lump…of butter!  With the brave paddling of her own tiny frog legs, she had churned that cream into butter. She leapt out of the bowl and went hop-hop, hop-hop, hop-hop down the road, in search of another adventure.

All words and images Copyright Naomi Baltuck

Click here for more interpretations of The Weekly Travel Theme: Indoors.

No Admittance, Except on Party Business

A cherished friend, One-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, broke bread with us on Christmas Eve, and shared the gift that keeps on giving–the nastiest cold germ I’ve ever made personal acquaintance with. By Christmas night, my throat was scratchy, and it was all downhill from there.  The next day Bea was felled.  The day after, Eli.  My brother Lew, who spent the holiday with us, left to suffer in the privacy of his own home.  A week later, on New Year’s Eve Eve we were still in no shape to host the hobbit party we had planned.  I rescheduled with family friends, but Bea asked if she could still have just a small handful of her friends over.  I said, yes, but only if they knew they were coming at their own risk.  So we did a little decorating, a little shopping, a little food prep, a little dress up, and we were ready to party in quarantine.

Eli and I were chief cook and bottle washer, but we dressed up too.  Then, like dwarves showing up unannounced at Bilbo’s hobbit hole, the guests began to arrive.  They came in ones…

..and threes…

Oh, yeah, and in most interesting and unexpected twosomes!

They played…

…and played.

…and played.

As midnight drew near, there was only one task left to do. Mama hobbit began to prepare the Boston Coolers, an ancient custom practiced by native Detroiters and their offspring, to toast the New Year. It is a delicate concoction of Vernors ginger ale, not Canada Dry or any other pale substitute. Only Vernors, aged in wood, and deftly mixed with vanilla ice cream. Try it sometime, but you must promise not to settle for anything less than real Vernors!

Cheers! Bottoms up! Skumps! Happy New Year!

Then, just as suddenly as they came…well, actually it was four hours later…the mysterious guests slipped out of the door…

…and melted into the night.

The moral of the story is this:  When a friend comes knocking, and you are tempted to go back to bed with a hot water bottle…open your door to the possibilities.  Even if you think you aren’t up to it, chances are you might be glad you did.

May the New Year bring you peace, health, happiness, and just enough adventure to keep you on your toes!

All words and images copyright Naomi Baltuck

Click here for more interpretations of The Weekly Travel Theme: Inviting.