Saturday, July 2, 2011

Another Goat Day

Greetings from Big Bed Land! Well, we're back with the third installment of Goat's Log from the Summer Island adventure. You'll read more about the mysterious plague of ladybugs and Goat's first S'mores, some notes from Pinky, and a brief mention of Dog,Your Cultural Archivist. 


Another Goat Day

Too much is happening to track the days. Today is S’more Day. I must remember to make this native delicacy for the others in Big Bed Land when I get back. It will be perfect for when the bears bring dried marshmallows back after the spring Petunia Hunt. Strange how only bears have seen marshmallows growing wild on the bush and only when the Wild Petunias are blooming. I have traveled the Seven Seas and never seen a single marshmallow bush. A pirate’s life is full of mysteries like this.

(A NOTE OF ENCOURAGEMENT from Pinky Your Hostess: Don’t worry if you don’t understand about all the many traditions of Big Bed Land. After all, these have been evolving since time immemorial! Dog, who spends quite a bit of time digging in the Cultural Archive, will explain the traditional spring hunt for the Wild Petunia later on.)

Some of the monsters know about the ladybugs, mostly the Mouse Fairy girls, it seems, along with Monster E. and her friend Margot. They speak of the wild herds of ladybugs and of dangers, fearsome yet vague. But they also laugh and call each other “Ladybug.” Monster E. and Margot are unusually silly since the men disappeared. They call each other Pioneer Woman, whatever that means, and it is confusing that they seem to share this name. I fear that the Ladybugs might be using some kind of mind control as a weapon.

Around the fire, as the S’more flames burned low, Pioneer Woman swung their lassoes in a lazy but skillful manner saying, “Git along, li’l ladybugs.” I looked up at the stars (noting their position exactly) and listened to the monster girls sing “Yodel-ay-dee-bug, yodel-ay-dee-bug” into the hot and leafy night sky. For one moment I lost my keen sense of cunning and unceasing watchfulness—contentment overtook me. Could the Ladybugs be affecting me as well? I must be careful in my planning. Very careful, and reveal nothing.


No moon. I am writing this by candle light. I think the Ladybugs come from the Ancient West and I will not be hasty about their destruction. Tomorrow I am certain to discover more.

(ANOTHER NOTE FROM YOUR HOSTESS: I asked Goat if Goat would add some pictures of Summer Island to his log and Goat replied that this was not necessary as Goat already knew what the Island looked like. But I got approval for adding some pictures myself. This is one of my favorite views of the grassy island paths among the trees-- and a lucky sighting of Mouse Fairies! Here are Violet and Goldenrod walking together toward the waters that lap at the island's edges.)

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