Tracks to Clementine

Spring Ahead, Fall Back, Summer Oscillate (Winter's Comin')

I went to bed at 5am and now I'm up.

Yesterday, I went to neither a party nor a theatrical event.

I was trapped at home by nausea and a headache: the day included prone activity, the wish to gouge my left eye with a spoon, and a variety of work-related computer activity interspersed by tears and sweets.

Today, the headache continues. As it is neither so puke-inducing nor so spoon-gouging, I am inclined to think that it and the fog are working together to give me the ability to be stealthy and serene. These qualities shall inspire the completion of event planning, substitute finding, laundry cleansing and curriculum crafting.

The result of last week's Egg Stealer? Turned out there was not just one, but one-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight-nine-ten-eleven-twelve! Egg Stealers (coinciding remarkably with the number of students plus assistants in the class). When they picked up the decoy eggs, the clay from which they were formed began to hum. The Egg Stealers could not let go of the eggs; they were dragged by the river clay eggs back to the river, their egg-holding hands plunged deep into the riverbank. After a night of bellies in the mud, we were able to discover that they longed to return to their original forms.

Unless you were in the morning red group, where it was discovered that the Egg Stealers—with green frosting on their heads—were jumping on their bed. And it just so happened that underneath their bed were ten rainstorm eggs. All we had to do was rile them up so they'd jump more rambunctiously and break the eggs, thus causing a rainstorm that washed them away and dissolved their sugar bodies.

These are the words the increase bed-jumping: Happy Birthday! I have a present for you! It's a surpriiiiiiiiise!

(Maybe I'll try them on the headache. I'm sure there're rainstorm eggs in my head somewhere.)

Posted by Ida at August 22, 2004 10:53 AM