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Crane and Crew

"You are not really dying, are you?" Samuel asked, paying no attention to Crane.

"I don't know about it being serious." Feather said.

"Death is always serious!" Samuel said.

"I never said I was going to die. I am presumably going to leave off being Feather, but I shall go on being something. Another animal, I suppose. You see, when one hasn't been very good in the life one has just lived, one reincarnates in some lower organism. And I haven't been very good, when one comes to think of it. I've been silly and stupid and immature and all that sort of thing when circumstances have seemed to warrant it."

"Circumstances never warrant that sort of thing." Samuel hastily said.

"If you don't mind my saying so," Feather observed, "Egbert is a circumstance that would warrant any amount of that sort of thing. He's your dad--that's different; you're bound by a love stronger then a friendship, even a marriage. You could fight, and the next day, it's all well. I'm an orphan."

"I don't see what's wrong with Egbert!" Samuel protested.

"Oh, the wrongness has been on my part," Feather admitted dispassionately. "Egbert has merely been the extenuating circumstance. He made a peevish kind of fuss, for instance, when I took the collie puppies from the farm out for a run when I first met him. They chased his young broods of speckled Sussex, running all over the flower beds. You know how devoted he is to his poultry and garden."

"And we thought it was an accident!" Samuel exclaimed.

"You see," Feather resumed. "I really have some grounds for supposing that my next incarnation will be in a lower organism. I shall be an animal like I am now, but a normal one, of some kind. I think I may count on being a nice animal, something elegant and lively, with a love of fun. An otter, perhaps."

"I can't imagine you as an otter." Samuel said.

"Well, I don't suppose you can imagine me as an angel, if it comes to that." Feather said.

Samuel was silent. He couldn't. He couldn't imagine anyone that way.

"Personally I think an otter life would be rather enjoyable." Feather continued. "Salmon to eat all the year round."

"Think of the otter hounds!" Samuel exclaimed. "How dreadful to be hunted and harried and finally worried to death!"

"Rather fun with half the neighborhood looking on, and anyhow better than now, lying on the ground, dying. If I had been a moderately good otter I suppose I should get back into a mythical orangutan form, I should think."

"I wish you would be serious." Samuel sighed. "You really ought to be if you're not going survive the journey to town."

And that is when Feather died. That moment. Samuel said nothing, paralyzed by grief.

Hours later

"What's this?" Samuel asked.

"My uncle's home town." Crane explained. "You should find life here better after what happened."

Samuel nodded. "Feather had the maddest idea. She had an idea that she was going to be reincarnated as an otter."

"One meets with those ideas of reincarnation so frequently." Crane said. "One can hardly set them down as being mad."

"You think she really might have passed into some other form?" Samuel asked.

"Definitely." Crane said. "And it's best for you to think that."

You could say Samuel had a chance to start fresh in this new town. So did Crane. Somehow, Feather's death freed him. Freed him of Basil. Freed him of his voice. Freed him of who he didn't want to be. Freed him of his past. Freed him completely.

Freed him.

Date When Celebrated: Always December 25

December 25 is a very, very special day. It's National Pumpkin Pie Day. It's one of America's favorite pies. Pumpkin pie is steeped in holiday tradition. The peak consumption period for pumpkin pie begins at the fall harvest, and lasts all the way through to the Christmas meal and dessert.

One might wonder why have National Pumpkin Pie Day on this day. It remains a mystery. However, I am thankful for this special recognition, and will certainly have a little pumpkin pie with our whipped cream that day!

Did you know that there are at least two Christmas songs that sing the tradition of eating pumpkin pie for the holidays?Those songs are Home for the Holidays and Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree.

....ohh, and Merry Christmas, too!

Date When Celebrated: Always December 23

Celebrate your genealogy on Roots Day.  It's a great day to celebrate your heritage. Returning to our roots is a warm, cozy and comfortable feeling, a sense of belonging.

I often get caught up, and become captivated, with researching and uncovering my family roots. This hobby is the study of Genealogy. Genealogy can take interesting twists and turns. We often discover we come from exciting and fascinating places. We find links to famous people in history. Sometimes, we come upon dead ends to our genealogical family tree. Other times, we find a distant relative, who has performed some of the very same research. The result of the encounter could be huge sections of the family tree, literally handed to you.

Celebrate this day, by learning more about your family tree, and exploring your roots.

Date When Celebrated: Always December 20

Go Caroling Day is a wonderful, rewarding, and memory filled day. Christmas holiday caroling is a great opportunity to enjoy the holiday and appreciate its meaning.

It may take a little planning to make your Christmas Caroling happen. For example, scout groups frequently go caroling to nursing homes and senior citizen centers. Afterwards, a caroling event is often topped off with hot chocolate and cookies.

Enjoy Go Caroling Day to its fullest!

Where can I play Wizard101 in-browser?

Road Trips: Both are tedious.

This time, in the gloomy, gloomy, bathroom, Harley hears the Potter girl talking.

"Who am I?" She says. "I am your mother's sister. Did she not mention me and how I died young? What a shame." She sounds as if she was talking directly to Harley. Chills rush up his spine. "My name is of no importance. You may call me the Snow Queen. I am ruler of winter gales and snowstorms. I trace the frost across your windowpanes and freeze the water deep into the ground. Your mother could have ruled beside me, you know." She says, more softly. "We were twins - destined to guard this empire. To remain strong. But then a human stumbled into our realm." Her voice grows threatening. "He was half frozen to death. I said let him die, but your mother insisted on taking him in. She spent every waking moment by his side. Even when she was supposed to be asleep, she could be found with him, talking to him, reading him stories. She nursed him back to health. She had fallen in love, and soon enough, so had he." She says this last line scornfully, her voice sharp as icicles. "When it was time for him to leave, she went with him. I tried to stop her, believe me, but it was too late. She had taken our heart - our shared heart! I stupidly killed myself, my lost piece of heart also my motivation to live. But I intend to get it back."

She shimmers back into Harley's sights, smiles at him evilly and slices her hands through the air. A blade of ice forms at her fingertips. Realization dawns on Harley painfully slowly, and he scrambles backwards. He hits a wall at the back of the room. The Snow Queen had not slowed, merely matched his frantic scrambling with her steady strides. Harley is completely trapped.

[By James Games]

Cutthroat Crane

Crane's attention was diverted when he spotted a big red beam emitting from the ruins. He trudged over to investigate.

Upon entering a ruined village, he noticed a tattered sign.

  ELCOM  TO TH   VILL GE O   BORDER

"Border, huh?" Crane observed.

On his trek, Crane saw inside the only house intact a frail old geezer without a shirt. All he wore were pants consisting of mostly holes. His long, gray hair was tangled, going in millions of different directions. His mustache was shoulder-length, and his beard uneven, the longest parts touching his waist. He had a single swollen eye, a nose with peeled skin, lips as dry as the desert, and rotting black teeth. All Crane could see of his ears was blood coming from the hair that covered them.

The geezer raised his eye to Crane. He lifted his hands, both having no nails.  He growled like a ferocious animal and kicked his brawny feet, probably the only strong part in his body, at Crane.

"Away from Albert." The geezer said in a mangled voice, as if being choked. Crane strayed away, immediately hearing rampant laughter. He ran in the direction of the noise to see a teenager running away from the remains of a campfire. By the campfire was, as Crane suspected, the source of the beam. This time, though, it was flashing.