ARRIVING AT CAMP
The buses carrying the campers arrived at their separate destinations after a ninety-minute journey. Even rabbits like Wendell who live in the underground warren travelled overland, although there are rumors that the rabbits have tunnel entrances everywhere.
Having grown up in the warren myself I can assert that that’s not true. Also, unless there’s been new construction since Dad and I left, there is no tunnel access near the camps. If you need any further proof consider this: Wendell is stuck there. If there were any way of leaving the herbivore camp he’d have found it.
Meanwhile, Coney, Lin, Harcourt and little Francis are considerably more enthusiastic about the activities planned for the predator children. Coney and Lin are in the girl’s cabin, Harcourt is with the boys, and Francis is in the special three-year-old bunkhouse.
In this setting Francis is demonstrating some unique skills. I’ve watched his development closely, and I’m realizing that, all appearances to the contrary, he’s not as helpless and defenseless as one might think.
Lastly, Lin is constantly texting Wendell. It’s perhaps a sign of how bored he is that he replies. Or, maybe it’s a sign of something else.
My, all this and I haven’t even talked about my sister! Well, I’m sure Coney has something planned…
OFF TO CAMP
It’s July, and at the Dewclaw household that means one thing: Coney goes off to Predator Camp.
She never goes alone, and this year she’ll be accompanied by her friends Lin and Harcourt. As an added twist, for the first time Danielle is sending three-year-old Francis along. The camp has a special system for little predators, giving them mentors in the age group just ahead of them. All are overseen by the counselors, of course.
Francis’s mentor is Harcourt, and Coney will provide an extra set of eyes. As the world’s only carnivorous bunny she’s a celebrity, but she still probably doesn’t realize it. Dad and Kell do their best to insulate her from that, but in a setting like camp she can’t help but notice that other campers defer to her.
Meanwhile, poor Wendell Luckyfoot is at Herbivore Camp which he hates with a passion. He complains bitterly and unceasingly, but yet he goes. One would think it might be that he actually likes being across the lake from a certain little tiger girl. Lin keeps texting him, and so far he hasn’t blocked her.
The weight loss competition between Frank Mangle and Kell came to an end this week with a surprising outcome. FYI, since the object of the contest was to incentivize healthy behavior, the winner wasn’t determined by the number of pounds lost but by their overall body mass index.
It seemed that Kell had squeaked out a victory on the morning of the weigh in, but Frank resorted to desperate measures by cutting off his precious mane. That put him ahead, but Kell would have won if she had followed suit. She chose not to, and Desdemona declared Frank the winner.
Neither of the two ever said what the winner received. I suspect….nothing. Under R.L. they were competitive so long that it’s become second nature.
They don’t need a reason.
Throwing my two cents in, I think that your new blog photo should be you in that Passenger Pigeon outfit, wings and all. (Without the wings is cute, too.)
Fenton liked that, too! :)
Now that your wearing a new outfit, RU gonna update your blog photo?
Yes, I should. Hopefully before classes restart in the fall.
Now that your wearing a new outfit, RU gonna update your blog photo?
I'm curious about Rudy's father's family. I don't recall hearing anything about them other than the name Foxglove. (And that they're foxes.) Does he have any grandparents, aunts, uncles or cousins?
As I continue to wander the practically deserted campus of Beige University during summer semester, doing my best to administer to the emotional needs of plant life, I sometimes think this is all an elaborate prank that Tree is pulling on me. After all, I only have her word that she’s doing actual translations. Also, she’s still new to our ethical standards of behavior (although she’s come a long way in that regard).
I have noticed that when I circle back to places I’ve visited after a week or so, the flora that I’ve “spoken to” tend to demonstrate a remarkable change in growth and overall health. As a researcher, I’ve begun taking specific measurements to see if this is more than anecdotal. Tree is disappointed, though, as I said I’ll need a control group of plants that I never speak to. She wants me to talk to everyone.
Back home, Rachel and Joan have returned from their Honeymoon and have moved into their tree. The beaver crew were true to their word; completed on time and in great shape. Tree was relieved when I told her.
Finally, the family is preparing to pack Coney off to Predator Camp again. Maybe some year things will go smoothly there.
With Rachel and Joan on their honeymoon I was finally able to sit back and take stock of what recent events have meant for me on a personal level. While I still I question the ultimate worth of my online ordination, it has crystallized the part of my personality that has always been prominent; the desire to help others.
It was a few months ago that Tree first told me that she’d always seen me as a spiritual advisor, and that I could do the same for other plants through her translations. I let that slide as other life events took precedence, but now with the ceremony over I came back to it. How exactly would Tree translate another plant’s speech…whatever form that speech may take?
Tree said it all happens through their root systems (as I’d speculated, although airborne pheromones were another possibility). Tree’s immediate root system is still limited after being transplanted from Domain, and it isn’t as extensive as some her age, but as long as she reaches the maple across the street she’s connected to everybody. (Yes, even the flowers she detests.)
She alone has the intelligence to communicate with fauna like me, and since she’s wired into the net she can speak to me via my phone as I go from plant to plant. I don’t know what form my speech becomes when Tree translates my responses back to them, but so far the foliage around the neighborhood is doing well.
And what concerns do the plants have? Mostly requests for watering, and fair bit about canine urinary habits.
AND THEY’RE OFF!
The weather was beautiful on the day of Rachel and Joan’s nuptials. Like anyone who chooses an outdoor wedding venue they were taking a huge risk, but their luck held. The fallback option in case of rain was the Caliban Academy gym, which is barely adequate for school dances.
There was a tent set up, and two hours before the ceremony the wedding party gathered for the photographer to get shots of everyone. Of course, the two brides had their own picture-taking devices as well. As a geek I always applaud triple redundancy.
Three local shelties were hired as ushers, and when the guests began arriving the found themselves herded to their assigned seats. Dad, Kell, Rudy and Coney were there; mainly due to my role, probably.
At the designated hour the musicians began playing the William Tell Overture, and the bridesmaids paraded down the aisle. (Fiona was resplendent.) then the two brides each made their way to the altar. That was my cue.
They’d written their own vows, and I read the texts that they’d assigned for me. It was like being in a play, only this was a serious transition for two friends that are very close to me. At the end of the ceremony they had moved on to a brand new stage of life’s journey.
It was a transition for me as well. More on that next week.