Sunday, July 27, 2014

"Mrs Perrycratchit" continued...

One really hot afternoon, it must have been late June. There was lots of chatter about only days left until summer vacation. Missy bragged about going to camp. Fran and I, that's my sister - she's was in grade four and already knew her provinces - would be making the drive with our parents to the other end of the Island to spend a month with our Gram Jackson. I always looked forward to our summer vacation there. Especially the fried bologna and bannock breakfast cooked on the wood cook-stove. Yum Yum.

My longings were cut short by the voice of Mary Perrycratchit "Wanda! Stand Please."
My heart was in my throat, my palms dripped with sweat. I started rehearsing to myself, P.E.I., New Brunswick...oh god, I knew she was going to ask me.
"Ok Wanda, Please recite the names of Canada's 2 territories and 10 provinces."


I could feel my knees weaken and I almost asked if I could sit down to recite. The pressure was so great it was almost unbearable. I remember thinking ‘I know this - I can do it.’


...  stay tuned to see if Wanda can come through!!

Friday, July 25, 2014

Welcome to the beginning of another tale...  enjoy.


“Mrs. Perrycratchit”  by Lana Butler

As a child, I lived in Prince Edward Island, Canada. There was no kindergarten, everyone started school in grade one. School was for learning, not socializing.
Mrs. Perrycratchit was my grade three schoolteacher. She was round and shiny and cleared her throat a lot. She had dark hair that hung down the center of her back. It was always kept in a braid, with a brown rubber band at the bottom; then the braid was wound round and round itself until it formed a neat little bun. I am sure it was held there by will.
She would walk up and down the aisles with her hands behind her back and her ½ spectacles down low on her nose. She took care to look at everyone's desk. Mostly smiling at each girl and frowning at each boy.

She always chose a favorite student at the beginning of the year, named them "Teacher's Helper" and bestowed upon them the menial classroom jobs that she had no time or no desire to do; sharpening pencils, cleaning erasers, watering plants. Her one ambition in life was to make sure each child that left her class could name all of Canada's ten provinces and the two territories. (Which is all there were, when I was a child)

... (to be continued)

Wednesday, July 23, 2014

And now for something much lighter...  and a completely different genre...  Children's Literature anyone?
Beginning Texts for a picture book


"Willowmeena's Garden Guest"
...by Lana Butler



Willowmeena loved worms. Especially one big worm. She loved it so much that given a whole garden of worms, she could pick Fred out right away. Fred, of course, was her worm.

Fred was no ordinary worm...no way. He was bigger and fuller than any worm Willowmeena had ever known. She found him in the garden last spring when Mom started planting the vegetables. When she picked him up, he wiggled so much that he filled her whole hand and made her feel all tickly inside.

The tickly feeling made her squeal and put Fred down in a hurry. Willowmeena thought Fred was the greatest garden friend ever. This was going to be her second garden and she noticed that Fred and his friends had all returned to celebrate the new spring. Fred did have a great many friends.

Willowmeena had many questions about Fred and the garden. How do you tell if a worm is a boy or a girl? Mom sometimes had difficulty answering Willowmeena’s questions but she did have an explanation for Fred's size. She told Willowmeena that Fred got really big from eating the good, rich dirt that the composter made for the garden... from all last year’s organic waste.

Willowmeena decided to see just how big Fred was. She laid him by the side of her foot and stretched him out, ever so gently - his head at her toe and his tail at her heel - or maybe the other way round...it was sort of difficult to tell just which end was which sometimes.

Willowmeena wanted to be bigger like Fred - so she tried a little garden dirt too. It was a little gritty at first -
Willowmeena could hear scraping noises when she chewed. Mom was not impressed, she made a "yucky" face at Willowmeena. Willowmeena didn't think it was so bad, sort of like potato skins or unwashed garden carrots she said. Mom asked if she was hungry and gave her an apple.

Willowmeena liked the apple better then the garden dirt. She thought maybe Fred would too. She found Fred and tried to give him a bite of her apple. Mom told her Fred would like the apple better after it started to
Decompose. Mom said that means turn back into soil. So Willowmeena ate her apple and left the core, with one bite left on it, in Fred's corner of the garden.

Willowmeena looked for Fred every day when her and mom played in the garden. Some days he was under the dirt making food for the garden plants. On those days, Willowmeena played with his neighbours, the slugs and "potato bugs". Mom said she couldn't remember the bug’s real name but Willowmeena thought
"potato bug" suited this little bug just fine, since it looked just like a little potato to her.

Near the end of the garden season, Fred was nowhere to be seen. Mom said Fred was getting ready for winter. Willowmeena imagined Fred sorting his winter clothing, storing little packets of compost bits to snack on all winter, and insulating his bedroom to stay warm.

During the winter, Willowmeena thought about Fred. When they made their Winter Soups and Stews, Willowmeena always remembered to put the skins and peels in the compost so Fred would have fresh dirt next spring. She wondered how big he would be after all his winter snacking, maybe from her heel to her toe and around the front of her foot. She knew he would not get much exercise...it would be too difficult to chew through the frozen ground.

When the snow finally melted and the rains came, Willowmeena could hardly wait to start the garden again. Mom said that Fred might not choose their garden to live in this year and not to get her hopes up too high.
Willowmeena was not worried. She knew that her garden with its rich compost dirt and Sunflower and Basil plants to discourage pesky bugs, would be just what Fred was looking for in a garden. Besides, it would take
too long to crawl to another garden and his mom and dad would miss him too much if he left.

When Mom started turning the dirt over to start the planting - Willowmeena was right there, knees in her ears, watching for Fred.

Willowmeena squealed that familiar worm tickle sound and Mom turned to look. Willowmeena held up two hands. "Look Mom! Fred brought guests for lunch - can I have two apples for snack today?"


Mom shook her head, smiled and held out her arms, inviting a hug. Willowmeena giggled as she landed in Mom’s arms. "Oh Willow, I love you."


Tuesday, July 22, 2014

And now.. the conclusion of ... "Be Careful What You Wish For"  

“He’s early!” She mused as she went to the door. Expecting Billy, she flung the door open wide and stepped aside with a come in gesture. It was Monty, and the silver Cadi was in the drive. She had one brief moment of panic followed by a deep lust for this gorgeous creature that was now in her front hallway. She closed the door behind him and asked him if he would like to join her for a drink.
“What are you drinking?” he inquired.
“The most delicious red wine cobbler in the world,” she announced.
“Then I will most certainly join you,” his eyes were saying more then his mouth, but she was having difficulty hearing anything.
Bev gathered her glass on the way to the kitchen. She retrieved some ice and fruit from the fridge and poured the remainder of the open bottle into a glass for Monty.
She turned to find him standing close behind her in the kitchen. She handed him the glass.
“Cheers,” she said raising her glass to him, “to your health.”
“Cheers,” he followed her salute, raising the glass to his open mouth.
Bev felt she already knew him intimately and there was nothing odd in them standing in the kitchen drinking wine.
“What kind of wine was that?” he asked, lowering his empty glass.
Bev looked at his glass; all she wanted to do was slide her tongue into his beautiful mouth. Her mind was getting foggy.
“Elderberry wine, Monty, can I freshen your glass?” She didn’t wait for a response, took his glass. Finishing hers, she turned to the counter where the full bottle sat. She poured both glasses and handed one back to Monty.
“Shall we sit with this one?” Bev steered them to the living room couch.
“What brings you to my home this fine day, surely you did not intend to come drink wine with me?”
Monty narrows his dark eyes over the glass and drinks his red nectar.
Bev melts into his gaze and follows suit with hers.
“I have been waiting to share this drink with you,” Monty voice echoed in Bev's ears.
Bev set her glass down onto the table. She was not sure if she heard him correctly. Did he know she used the herbal potion in the drinks? Did he want true love too?
Monty took her face into his hands and pushed his tongue into her mouth, hard. She was both excited and a bit repelled. She tried to lift her arms to either hold him or push him away. Her arms did not respond. She could hear Monty’s voice at a distance now. The room was a bit hazy.
“You might have taken a little too much of that potion #1 Beverly, now you’re not going to be able to help much, are you?” his laugh distorted in the hollows of her mind. She heard the click of the front door lock. Then his voice was much closer.
“I’ll help you,” she heard his voice, as in a dream, her body was lifted and fell over his shoulder. She saw the floor go by as she was transported out of the room and down the hall. Doors whizzed by.
She heard a bell and remembered Billy. In her dream bubble she called his name, she could not hear her voice. Did she need help? Was Monty going to make love to her? She felt her body fly through the air and land hard on the bed. There was a moment of no air in her lungs. Through the haze, her cloths were being torn and thrown about.
She heard Monty’s voice and felt a heavy weight upon her, “I’m gunna show you some ‘true love’ now Beverly”
The bell rang again. She cried in her mind, ‘Oh Billy, help me.’

The bell rang again. She closed her eyes but could not close her body. In her mind a voice echoed, “Be careful what you wish for.”

>>Please post your comments below

Monday, July 21, 2014

... The continuing saga of Beverly and the packages... read on...

She turned and looked at the pulsing box on the kitchen table, “or maybe I need something stronger.”
Remembering the shadow, she went to the window and peered out. The tail end of a silver Cadillac slid down the street. She remembered the day she ordered the package.
Her neighbour had an “herbal healing” home-party. Bev wasn’t going to go, but Carla, her neighbour, begged her. Carla said she needed Bev for moral support. Bev ended up being one of four people that attended. The salesman, Monty, dressed in a dark suit, seemed a bit stiff for a home-party. Bev remembers him being half way between mysterious and creepy. He talked a lot about personal affirmations and how his herbal remedies could amplify any thoughts you might have and some could even create reality from their affirmations, if they were felt strong enough. He even made a strange announcement about the more defiant you are, the stronger it makes your magic; herbal magic that is. Bev remembers his smile at that point. He smiled at her; she felt the same warmth from his smile as she did when she opened the box with the small jars.
She felt the same warmth right now growing from the pit of her stomach as she remembered how her purchase came about.
Carla was chatting with the other guests while Bev inspected the ‘herbal remedies’ that were laid out on the table. The sweet odour of mixed fragrances was a bit heady. Monty had come up behind her to assist her. She felt his warm breath on her neck and shoulder as he spoke.
“What do you want in life, Bev?” his voice was thick, like a bear skin rug.
At first she wanted to blurt out ‘You!’, but contained herself and managed to squeak out, “True love, I suppose, with passion and romance, like all women my age.” Her face flushed and she turned quickly to hide her embarrassment.
“Sometimes true love has a price,” she remembered him teasing – although she wasn’t totally sure he was teasing.
“I have potions for true love, but they are very fragile. One must know that they have found true love before attempting to use them. It can be dangerous to look for something that is not there. Be very careful what you wish for.” He had pushed out his last sentence with what seemed like his last breath. She could still feel his presence today as she recalled that evening.
She had ordered three herbal potions that evening. Two were love potions, one she was to drink and one she was to have her lover drink. The third potion was a joining or bonding potion, both lovers would need to drink after they had each had their love potions.
She had been planning how to administer the potions. She didn’t totally believe in magic but thought that if she could get a man close enough to give him a potion to drink, then she could possibly seduce him from that point forward.
Bev returned to the kitchen after her search out the window for anything strange. Nothing appeared. She was drawn back to the package on the table. In her mind she had formulated a plan. She would drink her potion in her glass of wine – put her man’s potion in the rest of the bottle, and put the stabilizer in the third bottle that she would open to share. Et, Voila! Happily ever after.
She had invited her ‘long-term’ – ‘just a fiend’, Billy, over that evening to employ her plan. She began to set up. She partially filled her glass with wine out of the opened bottle and left the cork out so she could add the second potion. Then she uncorked the second bottle of wine and topped up her glass, making room in the bottle for the third and final potion. She felt very defiant and hoped that this would build the power of the magic.
Staring in at the glowing jars, she reached in and again picked up the orange liquid – she remembered now; red and yellow make orange – the orange was the joining potion. She hurried to pour the orange liquid into the full bottle of wine. Her tongue wanted to taste the nectar so badly. Her palms were sweating. There was a small puff of smoke when she poured the mix, but no change in the deep red wine. She put the bottle aside.
She reached into the box and pulled out the deep red potion. It appealed to her immensely. She could hardly think. She pulled the cool glass against her warm chest. Her bare skin burned at the touch.
She shook her head for a moment, she knew the red potion must be used in the guest wine so there was no chance of change in the wine color – she poured it into the partial bottle.
She ached like a caged animal in heat. The third jar beckoned her and she knew it was for her. She pulled out the golden liquid and opened the top. Her passion burned hot and moist through her body. She wanted to drink it straight from the jar but stopped herself, remembering her instructions. ‘Each must be mixed with the same beverage’.
Bev quickly poured the yellow gold into her glass before she lost the strength to do so. She shoved the empty jars back into the box and threw the box under the cupboard.
With trembling hand she picked up her glass and found her way to her favourite lounge chair. The glass touched her lips and the warm liquid touched her awaiting tongue. It was sweet and thick. She felt it caress her as she swallowed deep. Her ‘date’, was in about an hour.

She savoured the nectar – thoughts of the silver Cadi crept into her mind. Some flash backs of the herbal party; an occasional thought of Billy. She was feeling pretty hot, when the door bell chimed. She sprang up – barely missing her wine glass. 

.....  stay tuned for the conclusion of "Be Careful What You Wish For"
" Thank you for following"  Lana

Sunday, July 20, 2014

Continuation of "Be Careful What You Ask For" ....

Through the kitchen window, a silver Cadillac backed into the drive and came to a stop. She had never seen the car before. Dark eyes watched her through the side mirror, empty and a little sad. She knew the chance of anyone seeing through their side mirror into her window was slim to none, but she was convinced they watched her. She pushed the box aside, than retrieved it. She had backed away from the table. She felt a bit silly about the sudden paranoia as it wasn’t like she was participating in any illegal activities, not that she was aware of anyways. The doorbell chimed and Beverly jumped.
“Come on Bev, It’s not like you didn’t know someone was coming to the door.” She chided herself.
The chime sounded again; she shook her head. She had been standing, just standing there in the hallway, daydreaming.
“Coming,” she called out to the door.
Opening the door, she came face to face, well; face to air really, for when she opened the door, there was no one there. She stepped outside and looked for the Cadi. No car in the drive – no car on the street. Could she have imagined the whole thing?
Closing the door behind her, she turned the lock and went to the closet. She reached up onto the shelf, there was nothing there. Didn’t she put the box up there?
She stood puzzling for a minute and then decided that she must have just thought about putting it in the closet.
Beverly took a deep breath and repeated to herself, “I am not crazy, I am not crazy.”
In the kitchen she found a bottle of elderberry wine. It was past noon, and she was bunked down for the night. What was the harm? She glanced out the window at her Elder tree. It would never bare enough fruit for wine, she frowned at the thought.
“Maybe a little ice and some fruit,” she said sticking her head in the fridge, “a cobbler is a nice Saturday afternoon drink.”
She poured herself a tall glass and took a long slow swallow. She turned and there on the kitchen table, was the package.
“Hmmm,” she said aloud, blinking at the box, “I don’t remember leaving you here?”
Sitting at the table, she reached for the box, fully expecting it to grow legs and run away. It did not, of course. The package was warm to the touch. Beverly gingerly brought the package toward her. She had never been accused of being clumsy in her life, but was a prime candidate at this moment. Fumbling with the tape that was holding the brown paper in place, she thought that there was a time and place she might have just ripped the paper off. This was neither the time nor the place. This package asked for a ceremonial unwrapping and Bev was to oblige. She folded out the brown paper revealing a small cardboard box.
Her hands were shaking as she pulled the tape off the top of the box and watched the box flaps spring open. A soft glow came from inside. A wad of bubble wrap covered three small glass jars. Like a kid at Christmas, she stared into the box with wide-eyed wonder. A slow smile crawled up her face, lifting both corners of her mouth.
She sat there for a period of time that seemed immeasurable, basking in the glow. Without thinking, she reached into the box and touched one of the jars, watching her hand like it belonged to a stranger. The florescent orange liquid shimmered in the jar that she now held in her hand. It looked amazingly refreshing.
She tried to read the label. The letters shifted in and out of focus. Her mouth filled with water, her free hand was holding the lid, and anticipation filled her chest.
A shadow passed the window, catching her peripheral. She plunged the jar back into the box, backing away, wiping her hands on her shirt.
Her heart was pounding in her ears. The room swam round her. Putting her hand on the counter, she steadied her nerves.

“To early in the day for wine Bev?” she asked aloud.

............ to be continued  - Thank you for following 

Saturday, July 19, 2014

Now for something new and exciting!!!  Here is the beginning of my short story - 
“Be Careful What You Wish For”, © Lana Butler 2013

Beverly suspected she might be heading for trouble when she opened her mailbox and the brown paper parcel fell into her hands. Little did she know what kind of trouble. Although she had been expecting it, she never thought it would actually materialize. She hurried back into the house to unwrap her fateful parcel. The label on the package said Brighton’s School of Alchemy. There was no return address, no postmark, only her name staring up at her.
Her instructions were to check her mail-box at 12:23 on Saturday. A special delivery van would drop the parcel. It seemed a bit odd, the 12:23 timing, but she was so focused on the contents the timing did not matter. She checked every 10 minutes after 12, in case it came early. At 12:30, there it was. Funny, she didn’t see any van.

.... stay tuned for the continuing story of Beverly and her strange package..