Saturday, February 23, 2013

For Riley, Curran, Rory, Sawyer, Hunter and Hayden who surely could turn it into a play.

Now, I know you have heard the story about those three little pigs. It's the one in all those story books. 

I just want to say right here and right now that that is NOT how the story really went. The press got it wrong, as usual.

First of all they weren't little pigs. I know, I know, it's even in the title but that was before it was not politically correct to call overweight people, pigs. 

You have to understand that these were three, strong, stout, no doubt, farm boys. They worked hard and they like their ale. Probably liked donuts too. People who were not nice called them the Piggy Brothers. And, I admit their faces were round but it really wasn't a nice thing to call them.

They had been living together in the old farmhouse when the youngest brother decided he wanted to live on his own.
I think he got tired of how messy his brothers were. 
He walked out to the back 40 and paced out a nice square bit of land and then hitched up the mule and started gathering hay bales.

"Whatcha doing bro"? asked his brothers.

"Going to build myself a nice little straw bale house". 

It sounded like a good plan, very energy efficient so the brother helped him pile the hay bales on top of each other and then gather up the stray hay to make a thatch roof.

They decided to have some cinnamon tea and blueberry muffins for their afternoon break. The house was done and they were quite pleased with themselves.

We leave the brothers enjoying their tea and cast our eyes back to the deep woods nearby.  Strolling along the deer path, in the deep woods was a rather good looking wolf.
He had a nice plush coat, shiny with no burrs lodged in it.
He prided himself on being a rather nice friendly wolf. 
He wished he had a pack but found himself rather alone these days.
He suddenly got the whiff of blueberry muffins. He just didn't like blueberry muffins, he LOVED them.
Following his nose it led him right up to the door of a rather nice looking little straw house. 

He knocked on the door.

He saw someone peeking out the window at him so he gave them his most friendly, big teeth smile.  He spent a lot of time whitening his teeth these days, it seemed to be the "in" thing to do.

"GO AWAY", said a muffled voice from inside the house.

Well, that was rather rude.  He knocked again, flashed his nicest smile at the window.


Now, here is where the reporters got it so very wrong. The wolf did not, I repeat DID NOT say, "I'm going to huff and puff and blow your house down."  I mean what kind of respectable wolf says something like that. What he was about to say was, "I'm going to go away down the path."
Unfortunately, it was just at that moment that his allergies kicked in. Dry hay had that effect on him and he sneezed.
It was unfortunate that he was standing facing the door of the straw house.  It was most unfortunate that he sneezed twice more and it was probably MOST unfortunate that he was a very BIG sneezer.

Now, for the record, the straw house was not that well built. It being a rather new style in the building industry it still had some kinks to work out and one was resistance to large hearty sneezes directed at it.

The wolf, embarrassed about his sneezing turned away before he saw the damage that he had caused.  Sneezing and HAYfever tended to make his eyes water. He walked back down the path, into the deep woods.

Meanwhile, the three brothers stood in the center of the room, hay floating down around them and into their tea cups and decided to call it a day.

The next day, the second brother, quite a bit larger than his younger brother decided that he wanted to build his own house.  He decided that he would use sticks. You could always find sticks in the woods. So, he hitched up the mule and wagon and loaded it with sticks.

He built a rather nice stick cottage. He did some fancy dove tailing at the corners. He lined the sticks up next to each other on a board to make his roof. All in all, he was quite pleased with the organic look to his new home.

He invited his brothers to come over for tea. He baked banana bread and hearty oatmeal cookies.

Again, dear readers, you have to understand the press exists to sell papers and well, the story of a new stick house just isn't very exciting. But, if you add in a wolf taking a walk and the drama that followed, well, papers do get sold, even if the story is not quite true.

Our charming, friendly, gorgeous wolf was taking his late afternoon stroll through the woods when he caught a whiff of banana bread. Now, I can tell you for a fact that wolves LOVE banana bread. They have, unfortunately, in the past, been known to steal cooling pans of banana bread off window sills. It's not something that they are particularly proud of.

Our charming, friendly, gorgeous and now very hungry wolf, went up to the stick cottage door and knocked ever so politely.

Knock, knock, knock.

A round head peered out at him from one of the front room windows. He heard, "GO AWAY, WE WANT NOTHING TO DO WITH YOU."

Thinking that perhaps they mistook him for a traveling salesman he smiled his most friendly smile, you know the one. The one with his BIG BRIGHT WHITE TEETH. You know it's quite expensive these days to have your teeth professionally whitened.


I don't know about you but those were rather hurtful words to say to a friendly, smiling wolf and he probably would have just turned away and gone back home, quite sad,  except........the sticks still had some leaves on them and maple leaves always seemed to make his allergies worse and he started to sneeze.

One sneeze, another sneeze and another. Each sneeze more violent that the last and his poor eyes just watering away, well what was a wolf to do but turn away and hurry back home.  He had quite forgotten to put a handkerchief in his pocket.

So, he didn't see what happened when he sneezed. The press just had a field day with this.


The brothers looked around at the pile of sticks, gathered them up, put them in the wagon, put the teapot and what was left of the hearty cookies and banana bread in a basket and went back to the farm house, to build a nice cozy fire and finish their tea.

The oldest brother realized that if another house was going to be built he was probably the one that was going to have to do it.  He told his brothers that he would be happy to make them a brick house, if they would dig the clay from the stream bank AND if they would both agree to go live in the house and leave him alone.

So, the brothers built a lovely red brick house. The oldest brother put a sturdy roof on it and some window boxes and called it a day.  They set up the card table and got out the teapot and pumpkin bread, the freshly baked pumpkin bread, so fresh it was still warm from the outdoor oven.

You and I know how good hot pumpkin bread smells. You know that if you were taking a walk in the woods and you got a whiff of hot, pumpkin bread you would probably follow the scent. I mean it's pumpkin bread for goodness sake.

Our charming, delightful, well mannered wolf just strolled up to the door of this wonderfully built brick home and just wanted to meet his new neighbors. The fact that the pumpkin bread smell was coming from this house, may, I say, may have entered into his decision. 

He knocked. And, for the record he did NOT POUND as was reported. He knocked a quite respectable knock on the door.

"Please go away, sir.  I do not know you and my mother has told me to NEVER open the door to strangers", said a rather pleasant voice from inside the house.

He knocked again and smiled.

"Please sir, you look very, very friendly and I would like to invite you in but I do not know you."

The wolf knocked again, smiled and said, "I just wanted to say hello and ask what is that most wonderful smell coming from your house".

The house was quiet.  The brothers were talking in soft voices to one another.  The door opened a crack, a big enough crack that a basket was slid out to the doorstep.

"We have put some slices of pumpkin bread and a thermos of tea in the basket. Please enjoy them in your own home and perhaps someday we can be properly introduced."

For the record, bricks do not make anybody sneeze.  The wolf smiled, his teeth twinkling in the sunlight, said how grateful he was for the thoughtful gesture, took the basket and trotted back into the deep woods.

The press would like us to believe that it is impossible for overweight boys and a wolf to get along. Sometimes things you read in the papers aren't exactly true, remember that.
Papers aren't always telling the whole side of a story. Sometimes they just want to sell papers.

And, for the record, the oldest brother decided he liked the brick house so much he kept it for himself and made his two younger brothers go live in the farmhouse. And, from what I have heard he often entertains a certain worldly, charming wolf for tea. They really do try to out do each other with their baked goods.

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