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Saturday, August 1, 2015
Editor's Corner
By
Rod Cohenour
Food! Glorious food!
One of my earliest memories was following my mother and Louella
around the kitchen. At first, it was strictly to get the opportunity to
be the resident "taster." But then on my eighth birthday I asked Louella
if she was going to make my favorite birthday cake - Chocolate
Raspberry Cake with Chocolate Fudge Frosting. Much to my surprise, she
said, "No. You are going to make your cake." She smiled at me, set me upon her lap and said, "Ole Louella ain't gonna be around forever, child. You need to learn how to cook for yourself and we're going to start now."
That was the beginning of my lifelong love affair with food preparation.
For me the spicier, the better. Growing up in New Mexico it's easy to understand why my favorite cuisines are Nuevo Mexico, Mexican, Tex-Mex and the like. But I also adore Italian, Cajun, Thai, Chinese, and of course All American dishes such as barbecue - brisket, ribs, kabobs, grilled delights.
I have a lot of wonderful recipes that I have obtained from the wonderful cross section of people that I have been blessed to know over my lifetime. I look forward to sharing some of them with you with the hope that you will have as much enjoyment in preparing food with family and friends as I have over the years.
Bon appetit!
Rod's Stacked Puerco Adovada Enchiladas
Ingredients
- 2 lbs boneless pork ribs, lean part cubed (about 1/2" cubes)
- 1 clove garlic, finely minced
- 3 Tbsp ground cumin (reserve 1 Tbsp)
- 2 Tbsp vegetable oil
- 2 Tbsp Mexican oregano, ground (reserve 1 Tbsp)
- 1 pkg. (14.5 oz.) frozen red New Mexico Chile (hot or mild, your choice)
- 14.5 oz. Water
- 1 tsp all purpose flour
- 1 medium onion, diced
- 1 pkg. (8 oz.) shredded Cheddar cheese
- 12 fresh flour tortillas
- 2 Tbsp Chile powder
- Prepare cubed pork. Whisk together dry spices and Chile powder.
Add to bowl of pork cubes, tossing with hands to ensure all surfaces are
coated.
- Heat vegetable oil in skillet. Add pork cubes and saute until browned on all sides.
- In large bowl place frozen red Chile and equal amount of water.
Add reserved cumin and oregano. Add flour and minced garlic. Whisk,
bring to boil, lower heat and simmer about 20-30 minutes until flavors
are blended and sauce is thickened. (Substitute corn starch for flour,
if desired.)
- Stage bowl of shredded cheese, bowl of diced onion and
tortillas near stovetop. Add browned pork to thickened Chile sauce.
Place stack of serving dishes within reach, must be oven-safe.
- Heat oil in skillet. Flash fry tortillas one at a time, 2-3
seconds per side. Dip in Chile-pork mixture and put on plate. Top with
onion and cheese. Spoon small bit of red Chile on top. Repeat 3-4 times
per plate.
- Keep plated stacked enchiladas hot in oven until ready to serve. Work quickly to prevent enchiladas from becoming greasy.
These puerco adovada estacada enchiladas may be served with crisp hot tostadas and guacamole, a chilled salad of tomatoes, cucumber, lettuce, mixed greens with pico de gallo as the dressing, and a pitcher of iced tea or lemonade. Classic New Mexico cuisine. Or pico de gallo on the side and Chunky Salsa roja dressing drizzled over the salad, is good too.
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Irish Eyes
From LISTOWEL to VALLEYMOUNT
I promised you in June that I would give you an update on Listowel Writers’ Week, the greatest literary festival in Europe if not the world.
Well, where do I start?
It was opened, to a packed house at the Listowel Arms by Ireland’s Inaugural Laureate for Irish Fiction, Ann Enright. Prizes were presented for categories too numerous to mention.
Christine Dwyer Hickey
Reading by such literary celebs as Christine Dwyer Hickey, (see above) Colm Toibin and Paul Durcan was an education in itself. Shows such as Celebrating Yeats 150 were not to be missed. Lunchtime drama was top rate. A couple of shows stood out.
Down and Out in London and Paris, a one-man show performed by Phelim Drew, left, son of the famous Ronnie, was a brilliant piece of theatre. |
And the highlight of the evening theatre was John B. Keane’s The Year of the Hiker. The Open Door Theatre Company certainly did justice to the great Keane. Space doesn’t allow me to even touch lightly on the contributions of singer/songwriter, Declan O Rourke, Gabriel Fitzmaurice, Danny O Mahoney, Diarmeid Ferriter and Michael Murphy.
It rains, even in Kerry during Writers’ Week, and along with 749 others I got wet going to see Rick O Shea’s interview with Graham Norton. The multi-talented Graham too the audience on a step-by-step account of his latest autobiographical work The Life and Loves of a He devil. It was well worth Getting soaked to the skin to attend.
The grand finale the, 22nd Healing Session in John B. Keane’s, on the Sunday was everything that one could expect as far as talent is concerned. Poets, singers and performers of all sorts were in attendance. And the host, Billy Keane was at his best. Kerry is the second most beautiful county in Ireland. Speaking of which; It’s 75 years since the sluice-gate at Poulaphuca was lowered to flood the valleys to make what is now the beautiful Blessington Lakes, in County Wicklow. Between 1938 and 1940, 76 houses were demolished, and the bridges at Humphreystown, Baltyboys and Burgage blown up, in anticipation of the flooding by the Liffey Hydro-Electric Scheme.
The Blessington Lakes |
But not everybody was pleased. I told you some time ago about my own father’s approach. When the price offered for the land, by the ESB, was flatly refused by indignant landowners it went to Arbitration; the democracy of which Tim Lennon was not convinced. Years later, in a radio interview, he said, “The arbitrator was the Devil and the coort was in hell.” And now a local man has dug, from the archives, a notice of a public meeting in Valleymount, in 1936, where those affected would defend their interests.
Not everyone was pleased
The reservoir is sometimes known as "lakes" due to its shape, which arises because it lies in not one but two river valleys - that of the Liffey and, primarily, that of the King River. The King's River joined the Liffey at Inchiclare, at which point the King’s River was the larger flow, and when the Liffey was dammed downstream of the confluence, A ridge of land, on which the village of Valleymount lies, divides the “lakes”. The people are Valleymount haven’t forgotten and as part of the annual Hillbilly Festival a commemorative event was held in Valleymount on Friday 26th June. Christiaan Corlett gave a very informative talk. Christiaan is editor of Beneath the Poulaphuca Reservoir. This tome is taken from a comprehensive pre-flooding survey which was carried out in 1939. It is available from Government Publications, 51 Saint Stephens Green Dublin2. Price €35.
Irish TV 191 came out and interviewed Dick Byrne and Harry Farrington and singer/songwriter Batt Kinane played his new song Ballinahown at Humphreystown Bridge. Batt is including it on his next album due out later this year.
Kept a few cattle and worked in the fields
one day bad news came from the ESB
they needed a reservoir for electricity
I remember the day my eye filled with tears
For the memories I had there over the years
As the water came closer I gathered my things
I left with my pony and trap for the hills
They flooded the valley in Ballinahown
and if you weren't quick you surely would drown
the ghosts of the village lie under the lake
and rest there for ever in a watery grave
I moved with my family to Ballinastockan
for work in the quarry where men cut the rock in
I made a good living I hadn't a worry
but for the loss of my home still I am sorry
There are the days when I look at the lake
Its beauty eludes me I know its man made
the memory still haunts me draws tears from my eyes
the day my home vanished as the water did rise
They flooded the valley in Ballinahown
and if you weren't quick you surely would drown
the ghosts of the village lie under the lake
and rest there for ever in a watery grave
©2015 Bat Kinane
Keep an eye on his website; www.batkinanemusic.com |
Francis Duffy introduced the acts and was compere for the evening giving some historical background. The Hill family played some trad tunes on Bodhran and flute. Then the play started at 9pm. The Mary Byrne school of dancing and Laura Foster did some Sean Nos dancing. Batt Kinane then played six of his local ballads and told the stories behind them and after that a 15 minute video was played on a projector that Batt put together with footage of Boden Well from 1978 and photos from Chris Corellets book.
The Flood of the Forties, a play, about the “flooding” written by John Holmes and George Guing and directed by Maria Murphy was staged. It proved to be very moving and brought back mixed memories to many older members of the audience. This also was recorded by Irish TV.
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And of course the 11th annual Hillbilly Tractor Run- for charity- was, once again, a roaring success. With all the usual terminology to be heard, “Crawlers” “Rippers” and “Drawbars” were discussed at length. “Cock-lifters” were in plentiful supply and you can bet there were a few “Fast-hitches”. And as for “Grousers” sure there’s no scarcity of them around here.
The documentary/DVD on Irish Famine Pots is almost complete and will be on sale before the end of the month.
Details from:
Irish Famine Pots
Contact: irishfaminepots@gmail.com
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Arts, Music, Crafts
Featuring Creative People
June found him honored because his poem "God Only Knows" was set to music, and as such placed Phil with the top song in the month of May on the Clay County Radio, CCR, The home of Independent Country Music Promotions ! Here is the youtube link to the song:
Link: clayscounty.com
To date, 97 of his poems have been published with us since 1998. Many of his poems have been chosen by various bands to re-present as songs. Some of his compositions began as songs. Recently Phil contacted us with the news that another poem has become recognized as a song. (See link to uTube below.)
This particular one was co-written by Darren Sims and him. He and 'Daz' also wrote "The Common People" and performed on the CD that was issued then, called, by the same title as their song.
This song by Phil and Daz, was begun by Daz while he waited for his daughter Scarlett to be born. The name "6:03" is the time when she actually arrived.
6:03
the moment I've been waiting for, is Here
Seems to be, that some part of Me,
was knowing this sensation so clear
Who ever knew THIS kind of Love...?
Who ever knew This kind of Love...
You,
making me Sigh,
making me Cry,
Making me High
Trusting eyes, and Scarlett skies,
I hold you, in my arms, for Ever
No moatter how tears that you cry,
I won't be Leaving, you, Never.
Who ever knew THIS kind of Love...?
Who ever knew This kind of Love...
You,
making me sigh,
making me Cry,
Making me High
I'll always Love you,
Always think of you
I'll always Love you,
Always think of you
I'll always Love you,
Always
©Darren Sims and Phil Hennessy
Link for the music performance of this song 6:03 on youtube
From time to time we will feature various artists in this space, so watch for next month.
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Introspective
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Vacant
The piece of land is vacant now;
No one dwells there any more.
Once a house stood on this spot
That presently is ravaged soil
Bereft of any solid sign
That lives transpired – began,
Unfolded, maybe ended –
In the years that passed
When a shape of wood and brick
Occupied this space
With walls, a roof, that sheltered
Laughter, tears, solemnity and
Silliness – all that makes a home –
Now gone forever in an eyeblink.
But somewhere, someone
Remembers.
©2015 John I. Blair
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For My Gramps
By
Mark Crocker
I could fill a hundred pages with words that speak of my sorrow.
I could fill a book with words to morn for my Gramps.
I could speak for hours and days to say how much I miss Gramps.
So instead I will write words that speak of the great things.
Things that Gramps taught me.
Things that have made me a better person.
From Gramps I got my love of gardening.
The joy of taking seeds and planting them.
The joy of waiting and watching.
The joy of the first seed poking its leaves above the ground.
Gramps taught me to water just right.
Gramps taught me to prune just right.
Gramps taught me to weed just right.
Gramps taught me to harvest just right.
Much more did Gramps teach me about life.
He taught me to take people as they want to be.
He taught me to care about others.
He taught me to take care of our fur covered friends.
Gramps taught me first with Sooty, Inky and Dixie.
He showed that our fur covered friends rewarded our love with their own love.
He taught me how to care for them with a good heart and kindness.
And when I failed to learn the lessons I was corrected with kindness.
I have learnt so much from Gramps and each lesson taught made me a better man.
From Gramps I learnt to stand tall and proud.
From Gramps I learnt to take responsibility for my actions.
Every time I admit to a mistake and take responsibility for that mistake I am a better man.
But if I am a better man for having had Gramps in my life.
Then he was a greater man that I will ever be.
For Gramps was a true gentleman in every meaning of the word.
Gramps was a man of honor and true gentleman.
For all of us the sun will set.
And one hundred years is a long day.
But in the end the night comes for us all.
And what matters is how we made the sun shine for others.
Born 23rd of March 1915.
Passed from this world June 26th 2015
PONSFORD Light a Candle. Ponsford
Originally printed on July 6, 2015 in the Exeter Express and Echo. Ponsford Frank
A very special man who will never be forgotten.
100yrs 3 months & 2 days 23.3 1915 UK to 26.6.2015
Australia Love by all he met R.I.P
your loving daughters June and Mary and families
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Have You Given Up On Me
Have you given up on me
I never turned my back on you
Is this what you need to set yourself free
I don’t know what I’ll do
This can’t be true
Are you giving up dreams
You never learned to fly
Is this your one moment
That fork in road you despise
I’ve never given up on you
All of these things that we’ve been though
The many many things we wanted to do
I’ve never given up on you
Have you given up me
Does it matter all that was said
Is this what you need to set yourself free
I’m not sure what I can do
I can’t live here without you
©6/1/15 Bruce Clifford
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Summer Has Come
Summer has come
Like it’s never been
The heat and the sun
The storms and the wind
Night turns to day
Day turns to night
Summer has come
Nothing seems right
I told her last time go far away
She told me next time to do the same
Summer has come
It’s hard to know why
The warmth of the sun
The birds in the sky
Voices that fade
Songs on the sea
What has begun
Could never be
I told her last time go far away
She told me next time to do the same
Summer has come
As it always will
Until the day
When everything’s still
©6/30/15 Bruce Clifford
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Blowing Bubbles
By
Bud Lemire
Fun for me and everyone
So many bubbles in the air
They pop or fly as you're aware
I think that we all should have fun
Every day in life, because soon it's done
Take the time to blow a bubble or two
Until your time here is finally through
At any moment your life might stop
Just like a bubble that will pop
So enjoy the time and enjoy some fun
Blow some bubbles until they're done
Watch them go so very high
Or very low as they pass by
How many bubbles can you blow
So many that it is hard to know
I'll blow the bubbles just because
It's much more fun than blowing fuzz
Fun for me and everyone
Blowing bubbles is lots of fun
Author Note:
Every now and then take time to enjoy the
little things in life. Blowing bubbles, or
whatever it is. The little things all add up
to the bigger things, and have more meaning
than you could ever know. Blow a bubble,
watch it pop. Have some fun!
See Bud blowing bubbles below.
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Event Horizon
Look at us on the event horizon
The two of us on the edge of a storm
We can’t let go as we’re stretched into singularity
The moment we show we walked past this threshold of dawn
Here we go beyond the event horizon
Time stands still as reflections turn to grain
We can’t say so, but we know the stars are calling
The back glance of a glow the burns a silent rain
The event horizon where the panic stands still
The edge of time and the last of the kill
Look at the heavens now as light turns to dark
The event horizon and the last known spark
Look at us on the event horizon
Melodies of sounds that never were real
Dreams are halted and pasts are betrayed
Knowing there’s nothing. There’s no escape
The event horizon where the panic stands still
The edge of time and the last of the kill
Look at the heavens now as light turns to dark
The event horizon and the last known spark
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Make It Your Own
By
Bud Lemire
Wherever life takes you, make it your own
Make everything a part of you
With everything that you do
Everyone's personality is unique
When you find what you will seek
Everyone has their own certain way
Of doing something, and it's okay
It's what they do, it's their own style
That always seems to bring on a smile
Everyone's different, nobody's the same
Being who you are, is your only aim
How can you do it the way only you can do
Is the bigger part of making you, you
I can say for sure, I love being me
There's nobody else that I'd rather be
Take pride in exactly who you are
On life's journey, it's taken you so far
Everything you've done, everything that's shown
Wherever life takes you, make it your own
Author Note:
Everyone has their own unique touch with
everything they do. Because they are unique
at just being who they are. Their personality
shines in just being themselves. Their take on
everything, is who they are and how they see
things. How they want us to see things. It's
how we see them. They did it their way and
made it their own.
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Where Are We Now
Feeling tired
On the verge
The pain of desire
Each passing urge
Feeling lost
Can’t find my ground
Who are you
Where are we now
Where are we now
What are we headed for
Where are we now
This always seems like before
Feeling hurt
On hollow grounds
What you deserve
Can never be found
Where are we
Where are we now
What are we headed for
Where are we now
This always seems like before
Where are we now
Are we lost in the storm
Where are we now
Can’t say we haven’t been warned
©6/12/15 Bruce Clifford
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Love Beyond Compare
By
Bud Lemire
She's the one I'm always thinking of
Believe it ot not I can feel her too
Anywhere I am, no matter what I do
She loves me, and I love her completely
In this world, she means the most to me
You may wonder why you don't see her by my side
I'll try if I can, to you I will confide
Life has a way of weaving such a web around
And the money needed was not to be found
Yet, whether she's here, or whether she's there
The love we have together is beyond compare
You see, our love is really not the same
She is beside me always, she's my Twin Flame
In Spirit, I feel deep inside my soul
That's how I can say, it's the greatest love I know
Two human spirits, as One we are complete
Never having met, but one day we'll meet
Many miles, though we may be apart
In Spirit we are One felt in the heart
Love transcends time, and travels space
Twin Flames joined in love, as is in this case
So it is the same body that we share
In this union, it's a Love Beyond Compare
Author Note:
To my Twin Flame Vicki, who I shall always love
forever, because her love is beyond compare
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What You Deserve
By
Bud Lemire
At every corner, and at every curve
No matter where in life you go
You've earned the rewards that help you grow
Never think you're not worthy, on what you receive
You are much better, and you should always believe
Sometimes we tend to think ourselves too low
To have the things that will make us glow
Enjoy every moment that brings a smile to your face
Treasure it and hold it closely in a tight embrace
You deserve happiness, in all aspects that will be
It's life's greatest treasure, in which you hold the key
Step up to the podium, accept what you have coming
Don't back off, turn away and go off running
You are more worthy than you'll ever know
You need to realize that and make it so
Author Note:
You deserve it, you've come very far
The rewards in your life, because of who you are
At every corner, and at every curve
Everything that is good, is what you deserve
So many of us give so much and when it is our
turn, we don't think we deserve it when we are
recognized for all we do. But just by living in this
life and respecting others, and helping others, we
deserve all good things.
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The 4th Of July
By
Bud Lemire
To await the Fireworks when it is dark
The Escanaba City Band plays at the Bandshell
While vendors serve what they have to sell
Waiting for the Fireworks to start
While sparklers set off a spark
Firecrackers in the distant, so very loud
It's the 4th of July, in this happy crowd
Chairs set around, as people chat
This is the place where it's all at
Friends are here, and family
So many people that you can see
There are people watching from atop the hill
A little kid has a drink just waiting to spill
Running down the hill, from here to there
The drink flies all over, everywhere
The Fireworks begin and soon starts the show
A display of lights that blast to a glow
All kinds of colors appear in the sky
It's another Escanaban 4th Of July
Author Note:
I always enjoy watching the Fireworks and
chatting with different people I see down at
Ludington park. Listening to the Escanaba
City Band play while we await the Fireworks.
Watching kids play with sparklers. And of
course I take pictures to remember each year.
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The Adventures of Ollie-Dare - Chapter 4
OLLIE-DARE MEETS SAMUAL THE BALLOONIST
One day while Ollie-Dare and his best friends, Jimmy the Rabbit and Ace
the Coon, were having tea on the porch at Ollie-Dare's cave, Banjo the Fox
came running up. He was talking very fast and Ollie-Dare had to ask Banjo
to please slow down, he could not understand a word that he was saying.Handing his friend a cup of tea he told him to sit and get his breath. Banjo quickly sipped his tea, and then began to tell Ollie-Dare of a strange sight he had seen within the forest walls.
It seemed that something had entered the forest, and all the creatures were afraid, and waiting on the wise words of Ollie-Dare. Banjo began to tell of a large object, like none he had seen before, landing in the meadows just beyound the forest walls.
Ollie-Dare, becoming concerned, asked Banjo to lead the way, and told his friends Ace and Jimmy to please follow. Well, as they entered the meadow, Ollie-Dare was indeed concerned. Before him stood a huge orange and yellow balloon. Well, at least Ollie-Dare thought it looked like a balloon. It was shaped like a balloon, but it was so big.
Creatures, large and small, gathered around Ollie-Dare to ask "What has entered our forest, Ollie-Dare?"
Ollie-Dare answered, "I have not the answers you seek, but I will find out why this strange thing has entered our forest."
Now being the wise bear that he was, Ollie-Dare knew he must take great caution. He slowly made his way up to the object and called, "Who goes there!"
Suddenly a voice answered, "I am Samual the Balloonist, and who may I ask are you?"
Ollie-Dare looked up to see a large man looking out from a basket that was attached to the big balloon. "I am Ollie-Dare, and this is my forest you have entered," he answered.
"I am sorry," replied Samual, "But my balloon has taken on a leak, and it must be repaired before I go on. I only landed here in the meadow so I could do some repairs."
"I have seen balloons before, and this does not look like any balloon I have ever seen," laughed Ollie-Dare.
Samual, with a smile, explained "This is a hot-air balloon that can travel great distances and go high within the sky. I have visited many lands and seen many things within my balloon."
Ollie-Dare was amazed, and as he walked around the giant balloon he shook his head and said, "A balloon that carries a man within the sky all over the world! How wonderful! Come, I will serve fresh tea, and you, Samual, will tell me more about this balloon of yours."
So off Samual and Ollie-Dare went to Ollie-Dare's cave deep within the forest. Following behind, were Ace, Jimmy, and Banjo, all eager to hear what Samual had to say. They all sat quietly listening to the funny stories of Samual, and how his balloon carried him to lands far beyond the oceans.
After tea, Ollie-Dare asked Samual how they may be of help in mending his balloon. He added, "Nibbles the squirrell's pine-quill needles, she uses to sew, would not have the strength needed; and her thread would not hold such as your balloon needs for repairing."
Samual thought for awhile then answered, "Well, if you could perhaps help me find some strong clay that I could plug the hole with? The hole is slight, and that should hold it until I can reach were I am going, and I can finish the repairs there. It will take a few days for the clay to harden and I must ask if I could stay for that time?"
Ace spoke up "I know were we could find the clay. You see, Beaver Joe is moving his dam up stream, and they have been working fresh clay for days. However, Beaver Joe doesn't like to give up his clay, so it may take some talking."
"Maybe Woodchuck the Logger, will give us fresh cut wood to trade Beaver Joe for the clay. For if there is one thing Beaver Joe likes more than clay, it's wood!" said Banjo. "And as soon as I finish this cup of tea, we'll go see what we can do."
Soon Banjo and Ace were off to see if they could get the clay Samual needed, and Ollie-Dare and Jimmy the Rabbit took Samual for a tour of their forest. Samual, in all his travels, had never seen such beauty and wonder as that of Ollie-Dare's forest. He saw pine trees so large their branch ends could not be seen; streams so clear the water created diamonds from the sunlight; grass as green as Irish clover, and soft as cotton. A rainbow of flowers lined the forest with roses, orchids, daiseys, violets, and wild flowers of every name. He saw oaks and maple trees so huge he could hide his balloon beneath them. The wind gave soft music that carried the fresh smell of the flowers.
He met many of the forest residents. There was Nibbles the squirrel (who gave him a quill needle just in case he needed it), Fanny the Robin, and Blossom the possum. Shantey the Groundhog walked by, and many more. The sun was beginning to fade when they made their way back to Ollie-Dare's cave. On entering, they found Ace and Banjo back from their quest, and with them a full pot of clay from Beaver Joe, with well wishes from him and Woodchuck.
Early morning came, and Samual and Ollie-Dare went to repair the leak in the hot-air balloon. They worked all day and into the night before going to settle in for a few days to let the clay harden in the sun of day. Two days had finally passed, and Samual was sorry to leave his new friends, but knew he must carry on his travels, and his work to see new lands and cities.
All the forest creatures gathered for a farewell, many bringing gifts of food and water. As the giant balloon rose within the sky Ollie-Dare once again wondered if he would see his new friend again, and wished him well on his travels.
Jimmy the Rabbit was very sad, for Samual would not take him with him in the big balloon and Ollie-Dare knew he was heartbroken. But the same as Samual needed the open sky and his balloon, Jimmy needed his forest to live, and would soon forget the pain of his broken heart.
The balloon soon drifted from sight and Ollie-Dare and his friends went back into the forest. Jimmy asked "Ollie-Dare, why is man so different from all here in the great forest?"
Ollie-Dare thought for a moment, for he knew he must answer well and wise. "Man and beast," Ollie-Dare began, "are not so very different at all. We need the same things - just in different ways. Man needs food, we need food. He seeks adventures in other lands, we seek it here within the forest walls. Man strives to better his world, we work to better our forest. He sleeps, we sleep. I find only one difference between the two, for as man creates, he destroys a lot of things because he fails to see beyond what he creates. We, here in the forest, must always look beyond tomorrow, in what we create. However, man and beast must both live with the outcome of all we create."
Jimmy the Rabbit became very quiet as he thought of Ollie-Dare's words. He looked up one last time, and wondered what it would be like high within the sky, and wondered were Samual was now. He knew that he had created a new friend in Samual, one creation they all could live with.
©2002 Rebecca Morris
Next month: Ollie Dare goes Camping
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