|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Mon Jul 15, 2013 6:03 pm
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jul 15, 2013 6:17 pm
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jul 16, 2013 11:36 am
 |
|
|
 |
Entry One
With the same curiosity that lead me to the garden the first time, I treated over its grounds with a small hand clutched in mine. As all things often do when faced with a certain age, Constance wanted to see where she “came” from, and though I was a little wary at first, I took her to the place where we had first met. She took in the flora much like I did; with wide eyes and a happier beat.
The large tree, with all of his wonderful dew greeted us as if it had known we were coming. Constance ran up to it, inspecting every little inch while the tulle in her skirt bounced around her chubby little knees. Her little round ears tweaked and for a moment she stood still. I walked up to stand beside her, and when I looked at her face I noticed her eyes were closed.
“What’s wrong?” I reached down to put my hand on her shoulder, hoping she would look at me, but all I got was a ‘shh’. “Constance, honey, what’s-“
“Shhhh.” She repeated, though more urgently this time. The little bear opened her eyes and looked at me like I was going insane. “Can’t you hear the tree? It’s trying to talk to me. It’s saying bring ring binga ting.”
“Constance, that’s a bell.”
“No it’s not! It’s the tree. Besides, trees don’t have bells.” She scrunched up her face.
“Trees don’t, but dews do. When they find someone that can take care of them, and give them love they’ll start ringing. That’s what you did.” I nodded with a patient smile. My eyes ventured up the mighty branches, and when all was quiet I finally heard it. The sound was a softer ring than Constance’s had been; a quiet, almost docile sound. I put my finger up to my face, a silent warning for the small child to be quiet as we searched.
I was halfway around the tree when Constance appeared holding a small wipe bottle. “I think it wants this one.” She held it up to me to inspect, and satisfied with her findings we looked some more until we found the small dew hidden among the large.
Though it was a petite thing, its spark was bright, and when I upended the bottle onto the poor thing it resonated. The sweet sound of a bell’s chime radiated around us, and the smile on Constance’s was wide and bright. It was in her hands that the dew bearing leaf came to rest. She held it tight, and whispering soothing nonsense that I couldn't begin to understand.
“Was I like this once?” She pondered, looking up at me with wide, violet eyes. “This little thing?”
“Yep, and it looks like you've found a new friend.”
“It’s my sister, thank you very much!”
“How do you know it’s a girl? Feels more like a boy to me…”
“No, it’s a girl.” She nodded with a proud look. “And her name is Janet.”
With a great sigh, I just smiled, nodded, and shuffled the two out of the garden.
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jul 17, 2013 7:51 am
|
|
|
|
Entry Two
Reorganizing ones house to suit the needs of not only a small child, but a dew as well is a challenge. Knowing that one day this little dream may turn into a child itself was a nightmare. I barely knew how to take care of Constance’s needs, let alone those of another little one.
Still, “Janet” was a calming source to the house. When Constance got too rowdy “she” would ring her bell from whatever safe spot we had her in until the noise was quieted. I’ve found that loud noises seem to almost scare the poor thing. Any time Constance flew into the room, or Tabitha makes a yowl, or even if I stub my toe the poor thing seems to shiver. However, when all is quiet, and I’m at my desk, it seems to “sing”. The bell will sway this way and that, chiming softly before picking up and dropping back, never going so loud as to draw attention to it.
“Janet” is happiest by the open window on days when the breeze is just right. “She”’ll sit and “sing” all day long if I’d let it, which I was tempted to yesterday, seeing as the happy vibes practically rolled off the little thing.
Constance has learned to tone it down just a little. She’s still much too excited about the whole thing to be trusted holding “her”, but I’ve noticed now that if “Janet” is by the window “singing” then Constance is close by. She’ll sit and hmm along with it, until either snacks or Tabby pull her away. She even played some of her classical music, which Janet seemed to enjoy, but the more lively love ballads struck a sour chord.
Even now I’m taking a break from my studies and relaxing in the yard, legs propped up on my favorite lounger with the little dream snug as a bug on a cushion in the next seat over. While it sings Constance starts to make up words for the song while she sits at my feet playing with her dolls. She’s told me thousands of times that her new sister will need dolls of her own, and no matter how many times I tell her that she doesn’t know it’ll be a girl it always ends in an argument. For a cute little cub, she can be a stubborn bear when she wants to be.
Still, “Janet” likes it enough. The breeze keeps it cools, and though the humidity is warm we get a little shower every now and again from the neighbor’s ill placed sprinkler. And for now, that’s just fine.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Jul 18, 2013 8:55 am
|
|
|
|
Entry Three
As time ticked by and life started to settle, I decided to start in on some much needed yard work while keeping an ever vigilant eye on Constance and “Janet”. As the little dream sang and danced, twirled and fell into flower bushes I grabbed the trimmers, and set in on the hedges. The wind was more frantic today than it been in a good while, causing the leaves in the neighbors trees to flip onto their underside. Still, it didn’t seem to bother anyone in our household, save for the cat, who sat prim as a statue on the back of the couch, watching all and participating in nothing.
“Janet” was nestled sweetly on a little cushion on the back steps, kept safe and cool by the awning. Or so I had thought. Everything had been just fine all day, and every time I checked back in on it the little dew sat patiently on the cushion, giving a little chime here and there just to make sure no one had forgotten it.
When I turned back this time though it was gone! I shrieked, dropped the trimmers, and started a frantic search for it. At first Constance was mostly confused as to what had me so upset, but then she too noticed the empty leaf and cushion. It took us almost an hour of calling, frantic heaving, and flowerbed destruction until we finally found little “Janet”. It was tucked up in a corner of the garden, underneath the Azalea bush. I still don’t know how it got there, but as with most days, the little thing was content, so I didn’t push it.
Tomorrow, though, I think I’m going to put superglue on that leaf. No more runaways for me!
Maybe he was too tired of being called Janet…? Yes, I know, I’ve started calling it a “he”, but it seems to fit. It’s almost like the same feeling I had with Constance, except a little more…informal. Like he’s so far away that I can’t seem to grasp him, but he’s always watching.
I think he knew where he was in that bush, he had to, since he wasn’t the least bit afraid, and yet, he didn’t seem too happy to be brought back with us. What’s up with that?
(For his hair, I was thinking something like this, with an outfit kind of like this, with all colors and patterns up to you guys! Whatever kind of accesories you want to add would also be welcome. c: )
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
