LITTLE GIRLS AND TREE ELVES

I was going to write a mean and snarly blog today, primarily because it is my nature to be mean and snarly. When I was pulling in the driveway today, I was frothing at the mouth, chomping at the bit, couldn't wait to caustically opine about the numnuts in Washington, but then something happened. I walked through the front door and my little neighbor Turner, aka T-BIRD (picture above) had left me a really nice note and some artwork. She drew lots of flowers of all different colors. Turner is 5 years old, and she is my bud. What struck me about the instance is how it immediately changed my mood. You see, I am mean as a snake, bad tempered and surly. I have always been fascinated by "nice" people. I don't get it, what makes them tick? Turner has a big heart. Later on she made me a hankerchief and brought it over and said "if ever I have to cry, she wanted my tears to fall on something pretty." Later still, she came over and showed me some of her ballet moves. Today she stayed an extra long time, she has been at the beach for several weeks, and she told me she missed me. For whatever it is worth, somehow and I don't begin to understand it, Turner's visit made me less mean and surly.

I have elves that live in the two huge oak trees in my front yard. Turner and her brother Ford (also my bud, pictured to the left) are fascinated with my elves, although I think they are a royal pain in the BEE-hind. (They are always jabbering on in those squeeky little elf voices, and they flat out get on my nerves). Sometimes on Saturday afternoon, usually around 6:00, the elves leave Ford and Turner cookies under the tree. Usually Ernie, the Head Elf, will place a note in the cookie bag and vent his frustrations about living with grouchy old Mr. Smith and lament about what a curmudgeon he is. (The elves have a secret passage that comes up through my seldom used oven and are constantly playing tricks on me, short-sheeting my bed, the ole salt shaker trick, etc.). Ford thinks it's oh so funny, he always roots for the elves, but not T-BIRD. She walks right up to the tree, wags her finger at it, and assertively states to the elves inside, "to be nice to Mr. Smith!" Turner always has my back. She is my homegirl.


I think I will wait until tomorrow to be mean and surly again. Thanks T-BIRD!