Or the Accidental Adventures of India McAllister
Everyone around here is always finding blue and white pottery shards in their garden dirt. Mrs. O says it’s the remnants of farm kitchens that used to be here. I say it’s because of huge ceramic space ships that visited, a long time ago.
“Why would aliens make their space ships out of pottery?” Mrs. O smiles.
“They came from a muddy planet.” I tell her. Why not look at time travel a different way? Maybe the future got here first, and they loved to drink tea….
A big storm came – so big that we couldn’t go to Portland to celebrate the Year of the Snake. It was postponed! Well, the year wasn’t. The Snake came in anyway. When I look at my bedroom window, it seems like there are Chinese characters, written in frost. What does this calligraphy say? Kung Hei Fat Choy maybe? The ice has beautiful penmanship. Soon, the message will melt.
The wind is making the trees fight. Branches are slapping our roof. One hit my window, but it didn’t break. “Come downstairs,” says Mom, but part of me likes it. Later, it calms down a bit and I go outside. Tofu’s ears turn inside out!
I am measuring the cold, but not by our thermometer. There are many other ways. For example, my dad left a pumpkin out on the deck for the squirrels, and he hates squirrels. (They eat his flower bulbs.) At my mom’s house, Tofu does his business really quickly and doesn’t sniff around, smelling everything (he’s probably cold, but I wonder if smells are harder to smell in the winter?). The trees are all creaky, the air is nostril pinchy, and it’s been indoor recess all week. Also Amanda the Rodent is actually wearing a hat even though she hates hat hair! That’s a lot of PROOF.
We have a bright orange sign on our lawn. It says YES on 1. Dad and Richard have one, too. Some people around here have signs that say NO. They say we have to protect marriage. I don’t understand how my dad and Richard getting married would hurt anybody. I like what my next door neighbor, Mrs. O, says: Families are families and love is love. I think she’s right. I wish kids could vote.
I hope people say YES.
The Rodent says my umbrella is babyish, but I don’t care. Mrs. Ordinance gave it to me. Yes, it has ducks all over it. “Ducks like rain,” sings Mrs. O, and I’m glad that Amanda the Rodent can’t hear her. What I don’t get is why more people don’t use umbrellas. Umbrellas should always be colorful. Black is too gloomy for a rainy day. If the wind blows hard and the umbrella doesn’t turn inside out, you might even fly. It’s been pouring for a week now and I’m so glad I have my babyish umbrella. (I will try not to poke Amanda with it.)
Tofu misses mud. Usually in April, we have plenty. But there wasn’t much snow and there isn’t much rain. I hear peepers, way off in the woods but there aren’t any here. Our vernal pool was big last year, but not now. It’s just dry. What will the salamanders do?
Rain, rain…don’t go away.
Come again, like how about today?
(I have a good book to read anyway, about a girl who can fly.)
At Colby’s house, he’s allowed to keep the fire going. He has to wear an asbestos glove and be very careful. That’s a good thing…since there’s a DRAGON in the wood stove, or at least there was today. So. Much. Smoke!
When it rains during school vacation week, my sled looks FORLORN, which is my new favorite word. It sounds so forlorn…which means sad and lonely. I also like JUBILANT and last night we were! Dad called Mom and we thought it was an emergency because he hardly ever does, and it was just the northern lights. Mom and Tofu and I ran out into the field behind our house. The sky had cleared, and it was like the sky was singing…white beams of light and green shimmering. It made us feel small and also jubilant.
India's Ink (What I Think!) 