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FLIP FLOP & HOOT©
"Psst, Flip! Hey, Flip Flop, C'mon wake up you sleepy bunny!"
"Bets?" he said sleepily.
"Bets, is it you? Oh gosh, is it really you?" He shook his head and
fluffed out his fur. He wanted to hop out and meet Betsy looking
presentable. It had been many weeks since he'd seen her.
Betsy was flitting back
and forth outside the log. She was very excited. Her big pink and yellow
wings batted back and forth. She looked even more beautiful than Flip
remembered.
"Oh boy, oh boy Bets,"
Flip Flop was smiling from long floppy ear to long floppy ear. "You look
great!"
"Thank you!" Betsy peeped
in her tiny little voice. "That's because I've found the most wonderful
place to live. It's a smaller field than this, but it is full of pretty
flowers, and huckleberry bushes, and giant shady oak trees. I'm so happy
there. I've come to take you back with me."
"Leave my field?" Flip
said. The thought of it made him sad. "But, but, I've been here since I
was born I've never lived in another field."
"It's time to go Flip,"
Betsy said. "There is nothing here but weeds and bugs. Look how skinny
you are. I think it's a sign."
"A sign?" Flip questioned
her. He didn't know what she meant, Although, he was feeling kind of
hungry all the time
"Yes, yes. A sign. Just
listen to me and come along. It's time to go. Besides, I miss you."
Well, that's all it took.
Flip Flop took a last look around, decided Betsy was probably right,
packed up his things, and followed her all the way to this field.
A POSSUM IN THE ROSES©
One sunny, summer day Betsy Butterfly was flitting through her
favorite rose garden. Petal to petal, blossom to blossom, licking
up all the sweet nectar she loved so much. Careful not to tear her
pretty wings on the thorns, she bounced from bush to bush until
she was too tired and too full to go on. When she finished, she
planned to take a long, lazy nap in the nearby Lantana. But first,
she wanted to taste as many roses as possible.
This
was a quiet garden. It sat in a patch of sunshine nearby Miss Maples’
cottage. Each bush had a name. Betsy named them all. The luscious
velvety red rose she called scarlet, and goldy was the one with bright
yellow petals and orange trim. The vivid pink with the heavenly scent
she called princess. Choosing a flower on which to land was difficult.
Betsy loved them all and today she was going to try and snuggle into
every one, at least for a little
sniff.
"Oh, phooey,” Betsy
sighed. “This is supposed to be my quiet place. A place
where I can daydream and play and not be bothered by anybody or
anything.” She flew over to her favorite rose, the large, saucer
sized one with the pretty peach petals. The wind picked up a bit
and Betsy sat on top of the blossom, swaying to and fro.
I suppose one old
bumble isn’t too much to worry about, Betsy thought to herself. But as
she sat there cleaning her wings, licking nectar every now and then, she
couldn’t help hearing that ol’ bumble bee buzzing from rose to rose.
Bzzzzz, Bzzzzzz, Bzzzz, Bzzzzzzzzzzzzz, Bzzzzz, Bzzz.
“Can you stop making
all that racket Buzzter!?” Betsy flew into the air, batting her wings
in a nervous frenzy. “You’re making me crazy!” Buzzter
wiggled out from inside a yellow rose, buzzing louder than ever.
“What’s that Bets? I
can’t hear you when I’m busy buzzin’,” Buzzter Bumble grinned, nectar
dripping off his nose.
“Oh, for heaven’s
sake!” Betsy said in a huff and with that, she flew away on the tail of
the wind, grumbling about bumbles the whole way back to the field.
WHAT'S A JAYBIRD TO DO?©
Jaybird and I in New York

One lovely winter day not long ago, a beautiful song came from the
forest to the field. Over the tree limbs draped in snow; across the
brown grasses now twinkling with ice, the song danced through the air,
sweet and joyful. It drifted across the frozen field, like a breeze
through a curtain, all the way to Flip Flop's door.
"Oh boy,
oh boy," Flip Flop said with a shudder. He opened the door to hear more
clearly. "What a wonderful song that is!" he sighed, listening closely
and wrapping his long floppy ears around himself to stay warm. "What a
princely voice that is!" He became so curious, he ventured out into the
cold field, away from his warm lunch of oven-baked carrots. He didn't
even stop to close the door to his cozy
rabbit hole.
"I have
to find that song!" Flip cried out as he hopped long lolloping hops
across the frozen field. The icy grass crunched beneath his big bunny
feet. He hopped and crunched and hopped and crunched his way toward
the forest.
"Oh boy, oh boy," he said.
"My feet are crunching so loud it sounds like a giant is coming through
the field instead of a little old bunny like me." Just then, the
song suddenly stopped.
"Oh no!"
Flip stopped and lifted an ear to hear. "Don't go away! I'm
trying to find you!" But the field fell silent. There was only the
shrill whip of the wind whistling through the chilly grass. Flip sat
very still, realizing that perhaps his crunching noise scared away
who ever was singing.
"Hmm,"
Flip thought out loud. "If I sit quietly, maybe the song will come
back." So he huddled down into the frosty field until all you could see
was a puff of thin steam curling above him with every breath.
"Clack, clackety clack, clack, clackety clack." Oh no! Flip thought. My teeth
are chattering! "Clack, clackety clack, clackety, clack, clack,
clack." Try as he might, Flip just couldn't stop his teeth from
clickety clacking. He scrunched up his face like a tight ball of yarn.
That didn't work. He pinched his lips together like they'd been glued.
That didn't work. Just as he decided to hold his breath, it no longer
mattered because, as he clickety clacked in the cold, the song began to
warble out from the forest.
"Oh,
bbbboy, oh bbboy," Flip said with a shiver. "There it is! Th th thank
goodness. I can start hhhopping and get warm!" So off he hopped, quick
as a bunny, hopping and crunching until he came to the edge of the snow
capped forest.
The
forest was filled with beautiful music. Even the icicles, dangling like
crystal from the branches above, dripped in tune with the melody. The
lyrics swelled in the frozen brush. The voice which carried the
song seemed to be melting winter away with its sweetness.
"Hello!"
Flip called out, his voice echoing through the barren wood. "Where are
you? I'm Flip Flop and I want to tell you how much I'm enjoying your
song!" There was no reply. The forest fell silent, except for
the sound of the nearby brook, its icy waters rolling quickly under a
frozen crust.
"Pppplease,"
called Flip Flop with a shiver. "Don't stop singing, just let me know
where you are so we can meet. Bbbesides, I'm freezing, I'm not uuuused
to being out in the cold for so long."
GWENDOLYN THE GHOST©

Autumn is in the air. All across the field a blustery breeze carried
with it the changing season. The leaves are golden brown. The
flowers are fewer than in summer, but are fiery red and glorious
orange in color. Autumn is also a time of pumpkins and chilly nights;
a time for playing in the fallen leaves and pulling on sweaters.
Flip Flop loved autumn. He always got
a little furrier as the season cooled down. “I think I look much
handsomer when I’m fluffier, don’t you think?” he recently inquired of
Betsy Butterfly.
Betsy was not interested in Flip’s
concern about how he looked in autumn. She was more concerned about
keeping her wings bright with their pink and yellow color. “Uh, yes,
yes, I do Flip Flop,” she replied. “I think puffier is better, I do.”
“No, not puffier Bets,” Flip
said with his face scrunched up in a wrinkle. “I said fluffier.
I look better fluffier!”
“Oh pooh! Puffy, fluffy. Either way
you look good to me. But when you look that good and meaty, you just
might look too good to some others too.” It sounded like she was
warning Flip Flop.
“Oh boy, oh boy Bets,” Flip said with a
shudder. “You’re right! If I look too fluffy, I’ll look good enough
to eat!”
Flip Flop tried to smooth down his fur
with his tiny front paws and his long, floppy ears. “There,” he said,
satisfied with the job he had done. “That should do it. Boy,
sometimes being a rabbit just isn’t easy.”
“A rabbit?” Betsy questioned with a
little sniff. “A rabbit is easy. Try being a butterfly. Your
wings tear on the tiniest of stems. Your shoulders ache from batting
your wings all day. It’s almost impossible to find a flower without a
bumble in it. Hmpf! I’d take being a rabbit any day.”
“Well, if you were a rabbit, you’d know
what it’s like to be chased by snakes and hawks. Your back legs
would hurt from having to hop everywhere instead of walk. You’d crave
carrots so much, you’d start dreaming in orange!” Flip knew better
than to start a disagreement with Betsy, but he wanted to let her know
being a rabbit wasn’t as easy as she thought.
“Oh, please,” she said, swooping by his
long white whiskers. “It’s getting too windy and chilly out here for
me to stay and listen to you talk about silly old rabbits. The sun
just doesn’t stay out as long anymore. I’m sure I’ll lose all the
color in my wings if I don’t get inside now.” She flew up into the
wind and sailed quickly away, leaving Flip Flop alone in the afternoon
chill. He shivered a moment to warm up. But upon doing so, the
shiver fluffed out his fur, full and puffy.
"Oh boy, oh boy,” he sighed, seeing that he was once again a fluffed out
rabbit. “I suppose I should be heading home too. It’s just about
carrot time anyway.” So hopping across the brown grasses and through
the shadows of dusk, Flip made his way home to his cozy hutch.
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