A Zaadz. Friends Project : writing a children's story

**Please read Sandra's note on the Tree House before commenting on this story**
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I am happy to announce and share our project

How it all started :

 http://edusue13.zaadz.com/blog/2007/12/words_of_wisdom_from_john_denver

 I wrote part 1 on a December night, in Dutch

 My heroes as for now :

 http://aura.zaadz.com/photos/14/130803/large/otter02_1_.jpg?

 http://aura.zaadz.com/photos/14/131943/large/cuppa.jpg?

 Michiel was so kind to translate into English

 http://ecoawareness.zaadz.com/

 I got a place in Sandra’s Diving Deeper Pod

 http://pods.zaadz.com/creativewriting/discussions/board/5103

This is part 1.

Plish Plash’ Journey.

 
There was an otter who lived in Canada and she did all the things that otters do: building her house at the shore of the river, swimming, and eating fish. She loved her life, the water and the sun. And she loved to play, especially making acrobatic twists and turns under water.
 
Other animals, like the owl did not think she was taking life seriously, but our otter didn’t care about that…

 

But what she loved most, was sun bathing. That was also good for her skin. You see, she was a little vain. She had her favorite spot along the river, a big rock where she would stretch out to enjoy the sun. Sometimes, she would fall asleep only to wake up with a big yawn, warm and cozy.

One day she was out sun bathing on her rock, sound asleep. But this time she woke up from from something hairy touching her face.

“Hey lazy bones, wake up!”

The otter got quite a fright.
”Who are you” she asked, squinting her eyes.
”Squirrel.”
” I am Otter, but they also call me Plish Plash.”
Otter didn’t know what to think of the strange fellow but she was too curious to send him away. And maybe this was somehow important, or better yet, fun.


”I have an important message” stated Squirrel solemnly.  “Scoot on over!” Before Plish Plash could object, Squirrel had made himself comfortable on her rock and since there was no room left to stretch out, Otter sat up sticking her feet in the water.

“Why are wasting your time here?” continued Squirrel.
”You have no idea what I am talking about, right?”

Plish Plash shook her head.
”Alright, let me explain. It is important that we help each other, work together so we can grow and make the world a better place.”

”You mean I should grow and find a bigger rock for sunbathing?”
”No, No. It is about growing on the inside. And maybe that other rock can be for someone else. You wouldn’t mind, would you?”


”Well, I never thought about it, but I guess it would be okay. And what do you mean with ‘inside’? Make my house bigger? I can do that, no problem!” said Plish Plash.
Squirrel had to laugh….. “It’s not that easy”.

 

”Are you saying it is hard?” Plish Plash didn’t like doing hard things, but she remained curious. She shook her big tail. Something she always did when she wasn’t quite sure, and continued listening.

 

“Look here” said Squirrel, “if we all just continue with sun bathing, like you, then nothing will happen. Right?”


”Right” said  Plish Plash hesitantly.
”Everybody needs to grow here!” Squirrel pointed to his heart with his little paw.


Otter did the same and tried to feel her hart with her paw. “I am feeling nothing? Is that bad?”

Squirrel continued: “And find out what you are good at when it comes to helping others. If we all do that then it will be good for us all and we can be one big community.”
”How many of us are there then?””asked  Plish Plash.
”Lots!”
”I get it! There will be many visitors and I have to make my house bigger, just as I thought, and we need lots more rocks for sunbathing. Plish Plash had it figured out, or…….?
But before she could ask, Squirrel said: “ Alright friend, now you got it. If you want to join in, that’s great, but you will have to figure it out yourself from now on. I gotta go. Bye!”

 

Plish Plash was left wondering. What a strange message. Squirrel didn’t really tell her to make her house bigger or find more rocks, but those were the things she was really good at. Should she start there? And who would come and visit? Better be prepared. But this growing on the inside? She had no clue what it meant. She slid from her rock and swam home, not as happy as she usually was. She worried if she should still lie in the sun, and noticed the sun had begun to set. Would the sun still be there the next moring? She would have to wait and find out, and one thing Plsih Plash hated, was waiting.  And worse of all, she worried about that growing on the inside thing.

When morning came around, Plish Plash couldn’t wait to stick her nose outside to see if the sun was back. And yes, there he was. Eveything would be alright. She shook herself as to shake her worried off and thought hard. Squirrel was gone and he had no patience explaining all this stuff to her anyway, so who could help her understand better? And suddenly she had an idea.

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It would be great if the story got a part 2, part 3, and so on. Remember it is a childrenstory. And of course it has to have a happy ending:).
Members of the Diving Deeper Pod and new members : surprise me.
( If you want to participate : go to the Diving Deeper Pod/Prose)

 
 
Thank you Susan and kids, Catherine, Michiel and Sandra. It was great to do this!

Re: A Zaadz. Friends Project : writing a children's story

CHEWY

PLISH PLASH MEETS CHEWY

As you may or may not know, otters love to play, and therefore don’t always leave enough time for work in their day.  Sometimes that means that they don’t have time to build a home but that works out just fine because they can often find an abandoned beaver lodge to call home.  Plish Plash knew that some beavers were building a dam down river, so he decided to go investigate and see if they were building larger homes.  Perhaps Squirrel had visited them as well. 

 As Plish Plash made his way nearer to the busy beavers building a dam, he heard someone crying.  Moving silently through the water, he came upon a young beaver sitting on a log.  The beaver was chewing on the inside of a poplar tree branch, stopping occasionally to let out a small sob.  Plish Plash stuck his head out of the water and made a whistling sound.  The crying beaver was startled and began beating his paddle-like tail frantically on the water.  This is a warning signal to other beavers that danger is near.  However, there were no other beavers about to hear his warning. 

 “I’m terribly sorry that I startled you,” Plish Plash said, “I heard you crying and came to see what was wrong.”

 Although the beaver was quite a bit bigger than Plish Plash, he quivered with fear, “My Mother used to tell me and my brother and sisters stories about otters sneaking into lodges and eating beaver kits!  I’m not allowed to talk to otters!  When I was naughty Mother would scold me and tell me that if I wasn’t good the Otterman would get me!”

 “You don’t look like a baby kit to me! And, c’mon, do I look like the Otterman?”

 “Well, no, you look nice enough. And it’s true, I’m no kit.  I’m a grown-up beaver now that I am two years old,” said the beaver, his long whiskers drooping sadly, “That’s why I’m crying.  I got kicked out of the lodge.  It’s time for me to grow up and start my own family now.”

 Plish Plash felt a pang of sympathy.  He remembered when he had first been on his own and how scared and lonely he had felt, “Look kid,” he said, “Everything is going to be fine.  You’ll get the hang of it.  My name is Plish Plash, Plish for short.  What’s yours?”

 “My name is Chewy.  Pleased to meet you Mr. Plish Plash.”

 “Likewise.  Say, I had the strangest conversation with a squirrel yesterday and I just haven’t been able to get it out of my mind.  Any chance you spoke with him?”

 Chewy looked thoughtful, “No, I haven’t spoken with a squirrel but I did hear an owl last night.  I was scared and hiding so I couldn’t hear very well but it sounded like he was singing some song about making the world a better place.  I thought maybe he was talking about building a new dam somewhere.  Dams are great for reducing soil erosion you know.”

 “What’s soil erosion?”

 “I don’t know.”

 Plish Plash snorted, “Then why did you mention it?”

 “Well, I think that it’s something good.  I heard my mother and father talking about it one time and something about pollution in the water, too.”

 “Oh, well then, maybe it is good. Pollution is a real problem for us otters. It makes us very sick.  Hmmmm.  I think we should see if we can find that owl and talk to him.  What do you think?”

 Chewy slid off the log and into the water immediately.  He didn’t like being alone.  Even if it was an otter that he was making friends with, it was better than being by himself.  “Okay, Plish, let’s go see if we can find the owl.”

Re: A Zaadz. Friends Project : writing a children's story

So Plish Plash and Chewy set out to find the owl. They swam upstream and listened carefully to the noises that surrounded them. As they listened, they realized that they had never paid such close attention to the sounds of the river before.

“The water makes noise rushing down,” Plish Plash said.

“Yeah. The leaves rustle in the wind.”

“I hear so many animals chattering and singing, ” Plish Plash shared. “Do you think we will be able to hear the owl?”

“I don't know,” Chewy admitted. “Maybe we should wait until some of the animals go to sleep.”

“Are you suggesting that we look for Owl at night?” Plish Plash wondered.

“Well, it might be quieter,” Chewy explained, “and I've heard owls do their best thinking at night.”

“I don't know…” Plish Plash seemed scared. “At night I usually go into my holt and sleep so I will have energy for the next day.”

Plish Plash was right. Otters are very active creatures, and they need to get a good night's sleep so they will have the energy to romp around the next day.

“Your just scared,” Chewy accused.

Plish Plash thought for a moment. Then he replied, “Well, aren't you? At night it's dark, and there are snakes and eels and bats and insects and huge birds that swoop down and pick up little animals like otters …and beavers.”

Plish Plash leaned in to Chewy's face as he immitated the bird's grand swoop. Chewy fought to hold his tail still, but he could not control it. His tail began to beat only slightly at first, but he soon lost control of it, and began to warn all of the animals in the forest of the impending danger of night.

“Man, what's wrong with you?” a large green bull frog grumpily asked as he hopped from lily pad to lily pad.

'N-n-n-night is c-c-c-coming,” Chewy cried.

“So what?” asked the bull frog. “It happens all the time. Night, then day, then night…”

Plish Plash looked at the bull frog, and his tummy began to grumble. Otters sometimes eat frogs, but something told Plish Plash that he was not meant to eat this one.”

“I'm Ranidae Greedeep,” the bull frog explained. “What's your names?”

“I'm Chewy, and this is my friend Plish Plash. He wants to eat you.”

“Don't say that,” Plish Plash blushed. ” I am resisting the temptation quite beautifully.”

“So your name is Rainy Day? Was it raining when you were born?” Chewy asked.

The frog rolled his huge, round, bulgy eyes at his friend's lack of frog knowledge, but then he smiled. He realized that none of these animals were natural friends, and he was having a good time in their company.

“Sure it was. You can call me Rainy for short, by the way.”

“Hey, does owl come out at night?” Plish Plash asked.

“Of course he does. That's when he can see the clearest. You know, his eyes can't turn from side to side, so he has to turn his whole head.”

“Really?” Chewy marveled. “You sure do know a lot about owls.”

“Yeah,” Plish Plash agreed, resolving to never eat another frog, being that they are so smart.

“Hey, Rainy,” Plish Plash inquired. “Are you afraid of the night?”

Rainy laughed his low and gravely laugh. “Me? Never.”

“D-d-do you think you could come with us to find owl tonight,?” Chewy asked, barely keeping his tail from beating another warning, “because we need to ask him about what squirrel meant by building a bigger house and all that stuff.”

Rainy thought for a moment. “Let me check my calendar.”

Rainy hopped away to the shore, turned over several leaves and bounced back promptly,

“Well, you guys are in luck. I just so happen to have a free evening, this evening. And… it will  be a good night to do it, because there is supposed to be a full moon.”

“A f-f-f-fool moon.”

“Yeah, man. A full moon. ”

Plish Plash stepped on Chewy's tail to prevent another banging alert signal.

Re: A Zaadz. Friends Project : writing a children's story

drechanteuse-thank you!  I'm keeping this short so we don't interrupt the flow but this was enchanting.  Smart & very funny.  Thank you so much.  XO Ayla

Re: A Zaadz. Friends Project : writing a children's story

It made me laugh! It is very inspiring!

Re: A Zaadz. Friends Project : writing a children's story

Chapter 3: Something in the Trees

Just then, Plish Plash, Chewy and Rainy heard a rustle in the bush.  Rainy jumped into a nearby bush.  Plish Plash and Chewy scurried behind a tree.  Plish Plash stood firmly on Chewy’s tail, pinning it to the forest floor. Quietly, they peeked around the tree. 

Re: A Zaadz. Friends Project : writing a children's story

“I wouldn’t say scared,” came a voice from a nearby thicket, “but I am curious. Is it okay if I come out? I am unarmed.”

Chewy wiped at his cheeks and whiskers with his paws and blinked his acorn colored eyes at Plish Plash. “I’ve never met a snake. I just run away from them.”

Plish Plash approached the thicket and sniffed in the air. The smell was alive, warm and calm. “Well, I don’t mind. You can come out, stranger. But if you try to hurt my new friends, you’ll be in deep trouble.”

Rainy filled his throat with air and turned this way and that. By the time the snake slithered out from the brush, Rainy had already made three different escape plans, each one sillier than the next. When the snake’s head peeked out from the dirt, Rainy wished he was a tadpole all over again so he could swim away without being seen.

Chewy spun around and was about the whomp the snake with its tail until he realized that the snake was no bigger around than a twig and only a few times as long. “Who are you.” Chewy inquired?

The snake extended its olive green head in the air until its nose almost stroked Chewy’s whiskers. “I am a humble Thamnophis marcianus, but most people call me a garter snake. My given name is Garth. I don’t normally venture out at night, but the air is warm and the moon is full so I just could not sleep. I started to crave a snack, and somewhere around here is a slug. My belly can feel traces of its slime.”

Plish Plash felt a little sick when he heard this, but he also thought that Garth would probably feel the same way if he saw Plish Plash eating a fresh fish. “My name is Plish Plash. I don’t mean to bother you, but my friends and I are curious about owls. What do you know about them?”

Garth tasted the air with his tongue once, and then twice. “I don’t know where the owl is, but I know a thing or two about how to find them. Owls have a bad habit of catching snakes like me when they are hungry. This isn’t a bad thing, really. Owls have as much a right to live as I do, but that doesn’t mean I want to get eaten either. When we are babies, no longer than your ear and curled up in our den alone, our ancestors tell us stories in our dreams. These stories help me understand and survive. When I grew up, I found out these are called instincts. Follow me.” Plish Plash, Rainy, and Chewy followed Garth as he slithered towards a moist pine tree.

“My first dream about owls was a nightmare,” Garth continued. “I dreamt I was out on a night like this, and I came across a ball of hair and inside this ball were bones. After I found this ball, I looked up and saw an owl’s face, its large eyes and terrible flapping wings. I think those balls are leftovers and can be found wherever owls live.”

Rainy hopped next to Garth and watched him continue to curve towards the tree. “Did you have any dreams about pollution/”

“No, but if my mate lays an egg, then that baby will have dreams about pollution because I see it everywhere. When I bask in the sun by the river bank I find strange objects in the ground that look like lumps of color that shine and they are hot to the touch. Some days I can hear loud noises and the air tastes sour like the heart of a broken stone. And sometimes my meals are difficult to finish because they taste bitter.”

Re: A Zaadz. Friends Project : writing a children's story

Plish Plash and the Nonsense Mouse

It was late afternoon and all of them were sleeping.  Plish Plash woke first, stretched and said to the sky “hello sky, so glad you are still here.”  He looked around at all his companions.  They were sleeping in the moss and leaves.  Garth was snoring.  Rainy lay on his stomach with his legs tucked under his chin.  Chewy was talking in his sleep, saying  “trees, trees, yummy trees”

“Cock-a-doodle-doo!”  Plish Plash heard a squeaky voice from the grass at the bottom of an oak tree.

“Who’s that?”  Plish Plash said, for he could not see anyone there.

“I’m a chicken” said the voice.  “A big scary chicken”.

“You’re not a chicken!”  Plish Plash said.  “If you were a chicken, even a little one, I could see you in the grass”

“Umm…  I’m an invisible chicken!”  the squeaky voice said.  “A big scary invisible chicken”

“There’s no such thing as an invisible chicken.  Come out and play or go away before I wake my friends and you’ll be sorry then!”

“Okay, I’m a dog, then, Bow-Wow!”  the squeaky voice said.

“You’re not a dog anymore than you’re a chicken!”  Plish Plash said, “come out and play or go away”

“Okay” the squeaky voice said.  The grass moved a little and out came a little furry creature.  “I’m not a dog, and I’m not a chicken.  I’m a mouse” the creature said sadly.

“I never saw a mouse with a green hat and feathers”  Plish Plash said, because, yes indeed, the mouse had on a green hat with three feathers stuck in the hatband.”

“I’m a special mouse”  the furry creature said, “I’m a truth mouse”

“Oh yeah, what’s a truth mouse?”

“Well, obviously I’m a mouse first, but I always tell the truth second.”

“Truth, ha!”  Plish Plash snorted “you said you were a big scary chicken and you’re not, you’re a mouse with a green hat and, are those flipflops on your feets?”

“I said I was a chicken first, truth comes second like I said”

“But second you said you were a dog”

“Well, dog is god spelled backward, and esuom is mouse spelled backward so that counts as second truth”

“That doesn’t make sense”  Plish Plash said.  “I’m going to wake my friends, and you’ll be sorry then.”

“It makes sense if you know about second truth, which clearly you do not”  said the mouse.  “My name is Fred by the way.”

“Really.  You don’t look like a Fred”

“Oh” said the mouse, “that’s because I said it first, I only tell second truth remember?  My real name is Ezekiel Malachi Moribund Smith.  The Fourth.”

“I bet it’s not.  I bet you’re lying again”  Plish Plash said. 

“Second truth.  You can call me Mal for short.  All my friends do”

“Well, here are my friends,”  Plish Plash pointed to Garth who was snoring, and Rainy who was sleeping on his stomach and Chewy who was talking in his sleep saying “mud, mud, yummy mud”.

Suddenly Garth woke up.  He looked at Plish Plash and yawned.  Then he saw the mouse.  He sat up and sat up fast his eyes as wide as a really big wide river.  “It’s a nonsense mouse!”  He said.  “Oh my, we’re in for in it now”