Free Tales From the Glades of Ballymore by Bob Brooks, Karen Ross Ohlinger Page A

mentioned above, her bakery products were well loved.  She rarely had anything left at the end of the day.  Her specialty was lemon meringue pie.  Unfortunately, she could not offer it as often as she would have liked because lemons were not always available.  She had fruit trees in her orchard but not a lemon among them.  The lemons must be located by the swans and flown into Ballymore.  It was not clear how or where the swans obtained them.  Actually, it was not clear how or where the swans obtained anything for the residents.
     
    Petunia was a very neat housekeeper and had the cleanest cottage in Ballymore.  Every morning after breakfast she swept and washed the floor, cleaned the kitchen, and polished her shoes, which she rarely wore.  All of that took her only about an hour.
     
    This morning, when Petunia walked into her kitchen, she was shocked to see two parallel trails of ants winding from her cupboard to under the back door.  One trail was incoming and one outgoing.  The outgoing ants were transferring her sesame seeds to who knows where.  Her resulting scream was probably heard on the other side of the pond.  In any event, she quickly shooed the ants out the door with her broom.  This was only a temporary solution as everyone knows that ants don’t give up easily.
     
    Mrs. Porcupine was a kind soul and knew that the ants needed food like everyone else, so she had to think of a better answer than the broom.  A compromise was needed.  She decided to place a small amount of sesame seeds on the back porch that evening.  The seeds would be covered by an overturned dish so that only the ants could reach them.
     
    Having dealt with that unexpected matter, she could finally have breakfast and do her cleaning.  Afterwards, she decided to take a short rest prior to beginning the daily tending of the garden.  She also needed to rest because she had not yet settled down from the ant invasion.
     
    It was a beautiful late May morning.  Petunia strolled to a small field behind her cottage.  Tufts of grass blanketed the uneven turf.  Dandelions poked their bright yellow heads everywhere above the slender green blades.  The delicate, white petals of daisies with small, yellow centers were generously scattered throughout.  Ever so slightly, the flowers stirred in the gentle breeze.  Sunlight, out of a cloudless, blue sky, glistened off dew drops and illuminated the scene into a living painting.
     
    This serenity was exactly what she needed, and Petunia sat on her favorite rock for several minutes until her peace was interrupted by someone approaching.
     
    She turned to see Finnilly (Finn) Frog coming through the field.  He was dressed in his usual pullover jeans.  Finn lived on the other side of the pond.  He was a “Tom Sawyer” kind of frog, if you know what I mean.  He loved adventures and thought there might be one brewing when he heard what sounded like a scream come from across the pond.  He came to investigate or just be nosy, whichever you prefer.
     
    “Hi, Mrs. Porcupine,” Finn said.  “A little while ago, I thought I heard a scream from over this way.  I came over to see if everything was all right.  Did you hear anything?”
     
    “Hello, Finn,” said Petunia.  “No.  I mean yes.”
     
    She corrected herself as she remembered her initial reaction to the ants.  Then, she told Finn about the ant encounter and her planned peace offering.  That interested Finn greatly, and it sounded like a good adventure with which to get involved.  Petunia knew Finn well and knew exactly what he was thinking.  His involvement would not be good for the situation that required some delicacy.
     
    Changing the subject, Petunia asked, “Would you help me bring some water from the pond to the garden, please?”
     
    That was not the kind of adventure for which Finn had been looking but, being a helpful frog, he willingly obliged.
     
    The trip from the pond to the garden was about a