A Little Piano

Once upon a time there was a little boy who wanted to play the piano.  His mother offered to find him piano lessons, so he could learn to play.  But first, she wanted him to promise her that he would practice every day.

"Oh, no," he said.  "I don't want to practice the piano.  I just want to play a little piano."



His mother thought it might be best to wait until he was older, and so, despite his pleas, she waited, and saved her pennies until, one day, with many jars of pennies, she went out and bought a beautiful piano.




The little boy sat down at the keys, and plinked and plunked and banged and thumped.  He did it every day.  And every day he sounded worse and worse.

So his mother again suggested piano lessons.  But first, she wanted him to promise her that he would practice every day.


"Oh, no," he said.  "I don't want to practice the piano.  I just want to play a little piano."

And on he went, plinking and plunking and banging and thumping until his mother thought she could stand it no longer.

Then, one day, while the piano was being tuned from all that plinking and plunking and banging and thumping, the little boy went outside to play. 



While crawling through the garden, he came upon a magic lamp.



The little boy knew exactly what to do.  He rubbed the lamp, and a genie appeared.



(What?  You think I can find a photo of a REAL genie?  Get real!)

The genie bowed.  "Master, I am at your command," he said.  "I have the power to grant you only one wish, so think carefully, before you speak."

"But I know exactly what I want," the boy insisted.  "I just want--"

Here, the genie stopped him.  "Once your wish is granted," said the genie, "many things in your life will change as a result.  Be careful."

But the boy was insistent,  "I know what I want!  I know what I want!  I know what I want!" he said.

The genie sighed, for he knew of the difficulties that could occur with one so impatient.

"I must caution you," said the genie.  "Often, those who want something quickly, without doing the foundation, can be disappointed with the results."


The boy's protestations grew louder.  He jumped up and down.  He stomped his foot.  "I know what I want!  I know what I want!  I know what I want!" he insisted.

The genie bowed, and gave in.  "Your wish is my command, Master," he said.  "What is it you desire?"

The boy answered, "I just want to play a little piano!"

Alacazam-kazoom!  The genie swept his arm around the garden.  The world swirled and tilted.  Clouds filled the air. 



In the distance little notes could be heard ~ the tinkling notes of a piano.



When the clouds parted, the genie was gone.  So was the garden.  The little boy found himself standing before a little piano.



In fact, there were little pianos everywhere.



And the little boy was now a LITTLE boy ~ one small enough to play a little piano.

Just as he sat down to enjoy the fulfillment of his wish, what should appear but a tiny piano teacher, and she said to him, "If you're going to play that little piano, first you're going to have to do a BIG amount of practicing."

And so he sat down and practiced, just like his teacher said.  There was nothing else to be done in that magical piano-filled place.



Meanwhile, back at home, finally free from her son's wheedling and pleading, his mother sat down at her beautiful piano and practiced and played all day long.



(Some days the genie even came to listen.)

Want to play a little piano?  That can be arranged.

Cinderella... From the Perspective of the Mice

For far too long, the story of Cinderella has been told from the Fairy Godmother's point of view. She rescues Cinderella.  She creates a carriage from a pumpkin.  She waves her magic wand.  The mice have had enough.  "She's nothing!" they insist.  Here, then is their Cinderella story.



Long ago a poor widower with a beautiful daughter remarried.  The woman he married was evil and vain, and had two daughters who were just as evil and vain.  Because the widower was clueless about things that happened beneath his roof, his new wife and his step-daughters treated his daughter like dirt or, more accurately, cinders.  She slept in the cinders and they called her Cinderella.



There were a number of mice who lived by the fireplace because it was warm there, and Cinderella would bring them food and water and the leftover drops in the wine bottle.



All day Cinderella would sweep and scrub and cook and de-clutter, and all day long the mice would help her.  Cinderella was even learning to speak Mousese, which is a variant of the Ratese language.  "There's got to be a better life for all of us," the Mice agreed, and they set about finding one.  One day, while reading the newspaper, one of the Mice spotted an announcement: a local prince was throwing a gala ball, and there, he hoped to meet the woman of his dreams and make her his wife.  The mice set to work forging an invitation to the ball, and when it was finished, they laid it at the front door... where it was promptly snatched up by the evil stepsisters and the wicked stepmother.  They began to plan what to wear and what to say and what to do, and they put Cinderella to work sewing magnificent dresses for them.

When Cinderella asked if she could go to the ball, too, they just laughed and gave her more and dirtier work to do.  So Cinderella and the Mice slaved day in and day out preparing the stepsisters for the ball.

But mice do not give up easily, which is something you surely know if you ever had them invade your cupboard.  Each night, while Cinderella slept, they sewed and stitched and hemmed and embroidered, making a beautiful gown.  Then the Forger Mouse slipped out and made a deal with Vinnie the Raccoon, and scored a pair of glass slippers.  (Vinnie didn't have any real slippers.  It was the best he could do.)



(Truth be told it wasn't really glass but Vinnie was a Raccoon and didn't know any better.)



That night, after Cinderella dressed her stepsisters for the ball and did their hair and did their make-up, she sent them on her way and sat down by the fireplace for a good cry, or a good book.  Whichever came first.

But the Mice had other ideas.  They produced the dress and the slippers (of questionable material) and dressed Cinderella. 



The Mice did her hair and make-up.  Cinderella was wondering how she was going to walk to the ball in those shoes, but Forger Mouse, after his time with Vinnie, had been carving a pumpkin into a carriage.  Then the Mice harnessed themselves to the carriage and prepared to pull Cinderella to the ball.



It was a difficult journey, but they made it at last.  While the Mice threw themselves into the fountain to cool off, Cinderella admired the beautiful palace and in she went.



Everyone noticed her at once.  She was, after all, quite beautiful, and no one had ever seen shoes like hers before.  The Prince spotted her, as well, and asked her to dance.

Fortunately the Mice had given her dancing lessons, though usually Cinderella got to lead, which was a little awkward with the Prince.  But eventually they found their rhythm and danced all night.  When it was almost midnight, Cinderella's feet began to hurt terribly.  And the pumpkin, which had been out in the sun a few days too many, was starting to rot.  So one of the Mice scampered in and whispered in Cinderella's ear: Time to go, Missy!

Cinderella gave the Prince a hurried look and raced out the door, as fast as she could.  But that wasn't very fast, so she kicked off one of the slippers and hopped on her bare foot until she reached the carriage, and home they went.

By the time the step sisters returned, Cinderella was looking cindery as always, mending their panties by the fire.

The Prince, meanwhile, was devastated.  The woman of his dreams had slipped, or hopped away, and the only clue he had was a rather unusual shoe.  He was determined to find the fair maiden and set out into the kingdom, shoe in hand, to find the foot that fit the slipper.

When he came to Cinderella's house, the stepsisters were eager to try the shoe.  It did not fit, and the Prince was about to leave when one of the Mice tripped him and sent him sprawling.  Cinderella leapt out from behind the washing tub to assist him. 

The Prince asked her to try on the slipper.  Cinderella wasn't too happy at the prospect of putting on that shoe again, but sometimes we must do difficult and painful things to achieve a greater goal.  So she put the slipper on her foot.  And it fit as perfectly as was possible on a woman whose feet were not exactly Barbie's.



Thrilled, the Prince dropped to one knee and asked for Cinderella's hand in marriage.  Cinderella agreed, as long as the Mice could come along.  And so they were married, and Cinderella never wore horribly uncomfortable shoes again.  As for her stepsisters?  They had to wear uncomfortable shoes every day for the rest of their lives.  The Mice saw to that.



Their story, on a bracelet.

The Sad Sad Story of the Princess and the Frog

One upon a time, a beautiful young princess with very bad eyesight went for a walk in the woods, playing with her favorite golden ball.  Her mother the queen called after her to wear her glasses, but the princess pretended that she didn't hear her and tossed her specs into a nearby bush.  What need had she for glasses on a walk in the woods?  When she came to a cool spring, she sat down to rest.  While she sat, she tossed her ball up into the air over and over, catching it as it fell.



But then, she threw it so high that she missed it.  Her depth perception was not very good, either.  The ball hit the ground and rolled until it fell into the spring.  And the spring was so deep that no one, especially the pirncess without her glasses, could see the bottom.  The princess began to weep, offering a plea to anyone who could hear her: "If only I could get my ball back, I would give my fine clothes, my jewels... I would give everything I had in the world."  She cried so hard and so long that her eyes swelled shut so that now, without her glasses and with her boo-hooing, she could see virtually nothing.

While she wept, a frog poked his head out of the water and said, "What is with all this blubbering?  How is a frog supposed to sleep?"

"Alas and boohoo," cried the Princess, squinting in the direction of his voice.  "What can you do you me, you nasty frog?  My golden ball has fallen in the spring."

The frog, who was quite capable of retrieving the ball, thought about her dilemma.  At last he spoke.  "I may be a nasty frog, but I can dive deep into the water.  Retrieving your ball is no problem.  Hovever..." (and here he paused), "I do not want your fine clothes, your jewels.  Instead, you must love me and take me home and let me live with with you and you must reward me with a kiss upon my froggy lips."

The Princess didn't need to think too long about this.  Not only did she not have to give up her fine clothes and jewels... she could easily get her ball back and then outrun the frog.  What, after all, were the odds of an amphibian showing up at the palace?  She quickly agreed.

The frog dived into the spring and soon he emerged with the golden ball, which he bounced to the princess with his froggy nose.

By then the princess had stopped crying for long enough to see the ball.  She leapt up, grabbed it, and headed through the woods doing a broken field run around trees and stumps.  The frog called after her, "Hey!  Wait! We had a deal."

The Princess ignored him and kept running until she reached the palace.

That night, at dinner time, the Princess heard a strange noise - tap, tap - squish, splut, tap, tap, squish, splut - as if someone very wet was slowly coming up the marble staircase.  Soon there was a knock at the door, and an amphibious voice called out,

'Open the door, my princess dear,
Open the door to thy true frog love here!
And mind the words that thou and I said
By the fountain cool, in the greenwood shade.'

The Princess set, who never had retrieved her glasses,  ran to the door.  When she opened it, she saw... nothing.  (I already told you... her glasses were in the bush.)  The frog stood there, quite tired from his trek through the woods.

When he began again, "Open the door, my princess dear..." the Princess slammed the door shut and went back to her dinner..  As she slurped her soup, the King inquired who was at the door.

"Oh, no one," said the Princess.  Again the frog knocked again at the door, and said:
'Open the door, my princess dear,
Open the door to thy true frog love here!
And mind the words that thou and I said
By the fountain cool, in the greenwood shade.'

The King turned to the Princess,  "It sounds to me like you made a promise, and so you must be true to your word.  Open the door and let the frog in."

With a sigh the Princess set down her soup spoon and tromped to the door.  She opened it so that the frog could enter, and stomped back to her soup.  But the frog followed, and hopped right up on the table beside her plate.  In fact, he started to eat off her plate.  When he was finished, the frog said,
"Now I am tired.  If you would be so kind, please carry me to bed and place me upon your pillow."

The princess was none to pleased but her father reminded her that she had given her word and so, with a giant sigh, she took the frog to her bedroom and placed him on her pillow, where he slept beside her.  But when she awoke in the morning, the frog was gone... much to the delight of the Princess.  She insisted that the chambermaid search everywhere but there was no sign of the frog.

Her joy was short-lived, for the next night at dinner, she again heard tap, tap - squish, splut, tap, tap, squish, splut, followed by a knock at the door and the frog's voice:

'Open the door, my princess dear,
Open the door to thy true frog love here!
And mind the words that thou and I said
By the fountain cool, in the greenwood shade.'

Again the Princess opened the door.  Again the frog dined with her and slept with her and slipped away at dawn, and again the chambermaid searched in vain.  The third night, he did the same.  But that morning when the Princess awoke, there was the frog.  This time he said to her, "Now you must kiss me.  When you do, I will be transformed into a handsome prince."  He explained that he was under an enchantment by an evil fairy, who had changed him into a frog until he could be rescued by true love's kiss.

This was starting to sound a bit more appealing to the princess, but she really had no idea what the frog looked like, having spent the last week without her glasses.  So she kissed the bedpost.  She kissed he slippers.  She kissed the royal Basset Hound.  

And then, the chambermaid, who had been watching all along, kissed the frog...

...and he was turned into a handsome prince.   "You," said the prince to the chambermaid, "have broken the cruel spell, and now I have nothing to wish for but that you should go with me into my father's kingdom, where I will marry you, and love you as long as you live."

So while the Princess continued kissing inanimate objects, the chambermaid packed her things and off they went and she lived happily ever after.

The Princess wandered the palace kissing chairs and scepters and aging hunks of venison and the royal Basset Hound.

If only she had a visual reference, perhaps something 3D where she could feel what the frog looked like, she would be living in a palace today, instead of kissing the dog.

The Cat Who Circled Ankles

Once upon a time there was a princess who lived in a castle.  Life was good.  Food was plentiful.  There was always a dance or a puppet play or a book to entertain the people who lived in the kingdom.  There were always good things to eat, and plenty of wood for the fires.  The princess had a cat who she loved very much and the cat was very smart.



Every Saturday night all the people of the kingdom would gather for a fine feast together.  Everyone prepared food to share and entertainments with which to delight each other.  They would laugh and eat and sing long into the night.  The princess enjoyed her life and was always happy.  So was the cat... though it did wish for more challenging tasks than following the princess and acting adoring.  True, there was much waste, but everything seemd fine and no one really worried.

Then, one fateful Saturday night, a wicked witch showed up at the weekly celebration. 



When she saw all the dancing and singing, and especially the waste, it put her into a foul mood, and she cast an economic recession spell on the kingdom.  Soon the firewood became scant.  The pantry shelves were empty.  And singing and dancing just seemed too difficult.

The king decreed that everyone in his kingdom needed to work to turn the recession around.  They would grow food in gardens and recycle their rubbish to make compost.  They would stay together in small rooms and conserve heat.  They would thatch their roofs carefully to help keep warm.  Everyone obeyed, because he was the king and, in times of an economic recession spell, it just seemed like a good idea.



The decree included the princess and her cat.  The princess was at a bit of a disadvantage here, as she had never really done anything but sing and dance and read and eat and play.  But she was willing to give all this a try.  Together, the king insisted, they would all lift the spell, and the princess was determined to do her part.

Out into the field she went, ready to raise food in her garden.  She remembered how much the villagers enjoyed roasted chickens at the feast, and so she decided to plant some eggs to make chickens.  The cat circled her legs, behind her left ankle and back around the front, and then behind her right ankle, and around the front.  She planted and planted.  But, the next week, when she checked on the eggs, she discovered they had become quite disgusting and not a single chicken had grown.  Next she tried planting fish, with similar disappointing results.  She tried digging holes and placing logs in the ground to make firewood, and she attempted to catch butterflies for butter.  With each unsuccessful attempt she wondered at her failures, and her cat circled her ankles.  With each unsuccessul attempt, the princess asked, "How many times must I do this wrong before I get it right, and lift the spell?"




She interred rocks and bottles of wine.  She even tried growing new clothing.  The economic recession curse and her frustration continued.  Finally one day, as she terminated another unsuccesul growing experiment, she turned to her cat and once again asked, "How many times must I do this wrong before I get it right, and lift the spell?"

And finally she realized... her cat was providing the answer.  He was making an 8, over and over, circling between her ankles.

"Eight mistakes!" she cried.  "I must be close!  Soon our troubles will be over."  She started to count her mistakes: the eggs, the logs, the butterflies, the rocks, the bottles of wine, the clothing...  Quickly she planted a puppet to make a puppet show and a book to make a library.  "Our troubles are over!" she exclaimed.

The cat stopped circling briefly and gave her a look.  At first she thought it was a look of pride: she had figured out not only the message but the curse.  But as the cat sadly shook his head the princess realized the cat had not been making an 8 at all, but the symbol for infinity.

Here's the smart cat.  The princess is still out in the field.

Gingerbread Musings

Thoughts on Gingerbread

(Hey!  I bet you think about strange stuff, too!)

You know, I never liked the story of the Gingerbread Man. He was so arrogant, thinking that, just because he could outrun senior citizens, he could hold his own with a fox.

Not that I wished him harm. Eating him was, after all, the fox's job.

I didn't even like gingerbread boys and girls for eating purposes. The icing didn't taste nearly as good as it looked, and those suckers could get rock hard. But what I liked was the smell... and the look. The pink or aqua icing against the rich browns of the gingerbread, and that pungent aroma.

With this is mind, I started collecting gingerbread charms and beads.  (Yeah, I know... OCD strikes 1 in 10).  And soon I had a tidy stash.  But the beads had to be just the right colors.  I wanted to conjure up those delicious-smelling cookies.

And so I made this bracelet...

...and these earrings.

They don't smell like gingerbread, but they're pretty cute, and you can find them in my store if you run, run, as fast as you can.


I am also reminded of the e.e. cummings poem, which begins: here is little effie's head
whose brains are made of gingerbread
when the judgment day comes
God will find six crumbs

Hope you find more... and that they are delicious.

Run, Run, as Fast as You Can...!

The True Story of the Gingerbread Persons and Their Sad Demise

Once upon a time, a little old woman and a little old man lived in a cottage, which they held onto through a loan modification. One day the little old woman make some gingerbread people.  Her husband was quite deaf and she needed someone to talk to. She gave them currants for eyes and cherries for buttons. Then she popped them in the oven to bake.

The little old woman and little old man were very hungry and wanted to eat the gingerbread men and women.  She brewed a pot of coffee and they waited for the oven timer to DING. As soon the timer went off, the little old woman opened the oven door.  But the gingerbread people. who clearly were made from more than flour, butter, and molasses, leapt off the cookie sheet and ran out of the open window shouting, "Don't eat us!"

The little old woman and little old man ran after the gingerbread people."Stop! Stop!" they shouted.  But the gingerbread people didn't even look back. They ran on, and started to chant:
'Run, run as fast as you can! You can't catch me, I'm the gingerbread man!'  (The gingerbread girls chanted "Run, run as fast as you can. Gingerbread girls outrun any man!")

Down the lane they sped until they saw a pig.  The pig said, "Snort, stop!   would like to eat you!"

"First you'd have to get out of the mud," answered the gingerbread crew as they raced down the road.  They started up their chants again.  "Run, run as fast as you can. You can't catch me,
I'm the gingerbread man"  and "Run, run as fast as you can. Gingerbread girls outrun any man!"

A little further on they met a cow. "Stop! Stop! " mooed the hungry cow.  "You look good enough to eat!"

But the gingerbread people were too fast.  They sped on down the road, shouting, "Run, run as fast as you can. You can't catch me, I'm the gingerbread man"  and "Run, run as fast as you can. Gingerbread girls outrun any man!"

The cow began to chase the gingerbread crew along with the pig, and the little old woman. (The little old man had gone back to the cottage and to drink all the coffee.) But the gingerbread people were too fast for them.

It was not long before the gingerbread troops came to a horse. "Stop! Stop!" shouted the horse. "I want to eat you all!"

And did they stop?  Nooooo.  Instead they ran on, shouting "Run, run as fast as you can. You can't catch me, I'm the gingerbread man"  and "Run, run as fast as you can. Gingerbread girls outrun any man!"

The horse joined in the chase. The gingerbread people laughed and laughed, until they came to a river. "Uh-oh!" they moaned.  "How will we cross the river?"

That's when the sly fox appeared.  "I can help you cross the river," said the fox. "Just jump on to my tail and I will swim across."

"But won't you eat us?" asked the gingerbread folk.

"Of course not," said the fox. "I just want to help."

Having crumbs for brains, the gingerbread people climbed onto the fox's tail. Soon they began to get wet.  Very wet.

"Climb onto my back," said the fox. So they did.  (Did I mention they had crumbs for brains?)

As he swam the fox said, "You are very heavy and I am getting very tired.  Please jump onto my nose." The Gingerbreads did as they were told.

No sooner had they reached the other side, than the fox tossed the gingerbread people up in the air. He opened his mouth and 'Snap!' that was the end of the gingerbread people.  Except on this bracelet, where they are safe.

They're pretty safe on the earrings, too.