“Pssst….ah….excuse me….yeah you…the reader….listen he just left but he’ll be back soon so I have to make this quick!”
“What….who am I?” “Oh yes excuse my manners….I’m one of his recurring characters…he puts me in some of his short stories…and I was even in a poem or two of his. But anyway, lately he’s been a bit disappointed with the response to his web sites. He CAN be a pain occasionally but all in all he’s been pretty good to me as an author. I mean he doesn’t make me look TOO stupid and I do get a few chuckles now and then. I must admit though OCCASIONALLY I DO wish that he were a better writer. I think I’d have more of a following, maybe even a fan club, although with him I gave up on that a LONG time ago.”
“W…A…I…T….!!!….whew…he almost caught me talking to you. Luckily he forgot something and left again. He wouldn’t like me going over his head directly to you the reader….he is definitely the only AUTHOR….in this household.”
“What I’m really asking is that if you could try to act as though he were a bit better at his writing craft then he is….believe me it would make life much easier for me and the rest of those characters of his.”
“Oh….here he comes again….thanks in advance for anything you can…….”
“Ah… what Russ ?…..No I was just… ah….thinking out loud!”

“Here Nosy….sniff!”
Judson was holding his brother’s, shall we say, “soiled” sweatshirt in front of his new bloodhound puppy’s nose.
Nosy sniffed and sniffed and then barked a very immature sounding bark that would eventually mature into a deep loud one.
Nosy perked up his ears and looked around, then put his amazing nose to the ground and in a crooked, twisting path, sniffed his way to the laundry room and the laundry basket!
Even though none of Judson’s brother’s clothing was actually IN the basket that was “sniffed out” by Nosy, the tracking was deemed a victory.
On subsequent sniffing and tracking tests, Nosy however, was less successful. While attempting to sniff out a previously hidden used sock, Nosy “found” an unhidden plate of dark meat turkey that Judson’s Mom had placed on the table for lunch. Nosy never did find the sock.
On another occasion, Nosy found an opened box of chocolate covered cherries instead of Judson’s Dad’s baseball cap and was a very sick bloodhound puppy all afternoon.
After a trip to the local Veterinarian and a testing of Nostrildamus’ olfactory glands (his “smeller”) it was theorized that possibly Nosy was not “all” bloodhound but “could” have a bit of Beagle on his family tree. Not a bad thing, but not bloodhound.
“He may develop a better sense of smell later as he matures, but I wouldn’t count on it!” the Doctor sighed after the exam and test.
Judson was a bit disappointed at the news but vowed to keep “training” Nosy’s scent tracking abilities.
As Nosy grew older and larger, his percentage of “finds” as Judson called them, grew to about 10%.
There were also some unscientific successes which, although Judson considered a “find” his parents did not for the simple reason that food was always involved.
But one morning, a bright sunny day in August, the doorbell rang and when Judson’s Mom opened the door, a policeman was standing there with a torn piece of cloth in his gloved hand.
“M’am, I’m Sargent Cole of the local police department and we are on the lookout for an alleged thief that apparently tore an article of clothing, looks like a piece of shirt, during a small robbery and we were told that you own a bloodhound. Is that true?”
“Ah…why yes we do but you see…”
“GREAT! Can we borrow your dog to possibly track the alleged criminal?”
Judson’s Mom looked at Judson and at Nosy who was wagging his entire body and they both looked so excited that she just replied “Okay!”
Well, to make a longer story shorter, Nosy tracked down the culprit hiding behind a holly bush over in the woods and the Police Department awarded Nosy a special ribbon for “Excellence In Police Work”.
After that, Nosy still wasn’t very successful tracking clothing objects from the family but, even though no one close to Nosy ever said anything to each other, they all felt that it was very lucky that among the stolen items that were taken by the sniffed out crook, was a large box of chocolate covered cherries!

“Look over there…by the bench.”
“Hey….yeah….isn’t that funny. I don’t think I ever saw one that hungry before.”
“Naw…me either.”
“Look at that one …prancing around like a Peacock or something.”
“Amazing. They are so busy eating I don’t think they care whether we’re watching them or not.”
“You must admit…it IS facinating.”
“Well…yeah I agree with that. Some of my friends think I’m batty watching them and all of their colorful idiosyncracies.”
“I especially like feeeding times. How they all scramble and get in lines and sometimes get pushy. The bigger ones always seem to elbow their way to the food.”
“Well…are we done here today?”
“Yeah…I think so. Want to go get something to eat ourselves?”
“Sure. Over on the corner there’s a great place to eat.”
“My FAVORITE place. They always have the deluxe mix with the nuts and berries. Let’s fly over there now.”

To the real, normal, everyday (boring) world, Mr.Jason Worthington seemed like a jolly mature and quite retired gentleman. Oh, he had eight wonderful Grandchildren who thought that he was silly on occasion but otherwise he was widely known as just…well, “Papa”.
But there was a well-guarded secret that “Papa” kept only to himself.
Under his various colored knit Polo shirts and an occasional Tommy Bahama flowered Hawaiian style shirt he always wore the body-hugging T-shirt with the Purple Shield and the large golden capital “G”.
For you see, unbeknownst to his family and friends and neighbors, Papa was secretly “The Amazing Grandpaman!”
Papa read the news every morning in the local newspaper app on his iPad, and he would keep a well-tuned ear as he walked his neighborhood for exercise each day, for any occurrence or injustice which he might perceive that he could either correct or at least improve by his stealthy actions.
He would of course upright fallen trash cans on collection day and pick up blowing trash along the street as he made his way through his community but he was always looking for the “Big Help” as he called it.
One gray morning in June he was walking his usual neighborhood route and suddenly saw something that made him instantly stop and dash behind the huge oak tree in front of the Chandler’s house.
A man was climbing out of the side window with a bulging sack. Papa knew that the Chandler’s were at their Daughter’s house in Ohio and so he naturally surmised that indeed…This was a job for GRANDPAMAN!
He crept behind the Chandler’s tall hedges and removed his “ELON” hooded sweatshirt (his youngest son graduated from that University) and put on his Golden mask and coiled up his rather mature body, ready to leap out and strike as the presumed burglar passed by.
And as the burglar was creeping past, Papa jumped out from behind the oak tree and tripped the perpetrator causing him to fall to the ground and drop his sack of stolen goods.
The burglar was so stunned that he stuttered “What…” and then tried to fight free of Papa’s firm grasp. But Papa also always carried a length of rope and an iPod with him on his walks and although the iPod isn’t effective at fighting crime, the rope is the perfect accessory to detain criminals…alleged criminals that is..and so Papa applied the rope using the knots he had learned in the Navy.
Papa called the police on his smartphone and after tying the culprit to the Oak tree, left his Purple and Gold calling card…”GRANDPAMAN” and then hid nearby until the police arrived and apprehended the thief and his bag of the  Chandler’s possessions.
His smile was very wide and satisfying the next morning as Papa read the local news describing a “foiled burglary” but the best part for him was that he was still the unidentified “GRANDPAMAN”

“What’s the matter Tee Dee?” asked the robin to the dove.
“Oh…I don’t know…I guess I’m just tired of being…a….dove.”
“Really? My I would think that it would be great. You’re so big and well… dominating at the feeder…other birds move out of the way for you.” replied the robin red-breast known locally as Robby.
“Wait….shhhhh….don’t….move….a….feather….”
There was a very long period of total silence and stillness between the two bird friends. Then finally….”Ah…I think he’s gone…all clear buddy.” TD breathed a sigh of relief.
“If there’s one problem with these feeders it’s that they can sometimes attract….HAWKS!” exclaimed Robin with a relieved sigh.
“Yeah…I never did figure out why some birds…well…you know….we shouldn’t be….FOOD….to other birds! Should we?” asked TD.
” I certainly wouldn’t think so!” agreed Robby.
Then a gold finch flew to the limb where TD and Robby were chatting and said, in his high pitched chirp…’Hey…what’s happenin’ guys?”
“Did you see that enormous red tailed hawk just then?” asked Robbie.
“Sure….but I’m too quick and smart for him. Any thistle seeds today guys?”
“How should I know….I don’t eat that stuff! It takes a lot more than thistle seeds to keep me goin’.” Declared TD.
“Yeah, gimme some sunflower seeds, dried cherries….you know…the “Supreme Wildbird Seed” that you find ONLY at the better feeding stations.”Yummed TD.
Just then a male Cardinal landed on the feeder perch.”What’s up?”
“Hey Red…how’s it goin’?” Asked Robby.
“Great…just wanna get some of those dried cherries that they serve here. Must be the color.” Red said as he pushed some grey seeds off the tray and gulped down some cherries.
The squirrels were chomping up the seeds that fell to the ground under the feeder then looking up at the birds waiting for more.
Then Robby said “Well…see y’all later. I’m going North North East eleven flaps over and get some of that suet they put out at the stone house. Then I might stop by the stream and get a drink….then…..” He was still chirping as he flew off.
“I wish that I was a robin. They fly so fast and have so many friends.” TD was restating his wishes to Red.
“Not me…I wanna be that red tailed Hawk! That’s power!” said Red looking up into the sky at the hawk circling effortlessly at a height of four hundred fifty feet and using his “Hawkeye” to look for movement way below in the weeds.
But the Hawk was thinking “…Those lucky birds down there. Get to go from one feeder to another and fill up without ever doing any real hunting. Wish I’d have been ANY one of them!”
But then Robby squawked “WORM!” and all the birds flew off the feeder straight down dive bombing the emerging worm who didn’t even look up to see them swooping at him.
Afterward, even though all the bird friends didn’t agree on what other species of bird they’d rather be, they all agreed that they were glad that they weren’t a worm!

A fire engine has 4 wheels and 8 men

4 and 8 are 12

12 inches is a foot

A foot is a ruler

Queen Elizabeth is a ruler

Queen Elizabeth sailed the seven seas

The seas have fish the fish have fins

The Fins fought the Russians

The fire engine’s always rushin’

And THAT’S why the fire engine is RED!

Simple!

Over in the middle of the strawberry patch which, by the way, was covered with straw, there was the largest plumpest reddest strawberry of them all and he shouted…”OK…I need volunteers…lots of ’em….c’mon let me hear you ….this is good duty.”
“Ah….well what we gotta do Boss?”asked an above average sized berry.
“Glad you asked Barry….this special boy LOVES….I MEAN EL..OH..VEE…EEE...LOVES!!!! STRAWBERRIES….US!!!”

“Who’s ready to tear themselves away from here and join me in a nice white bowl?”
“Ah…you promise he’ll LOVE us Boss!”asked another nearly perfect berry.

“GUARANTEE IT! WHO’S with me?”
A crowd of plump perfect strawberries suddenly jammed into a half peck basket that was headed out on the back of an old red pickup truck.
About a quarter mile down the dirt road the pickup came to an abrupt stop.

Meanwhile in the center of the watermelon patch…the biggest stripiest plumpest watermelon stood up on end so that the farmer would notice him first…and it worked!
The watermelon…Wally was his given name…whispered..”YES…I have had the supreme honor of being selected to go to the  home where Gigi, famous lover of watermelons and Jonathan… equally famed connoisseur of strawberries live.”

After the farmer picked Wally and put him into the truck, the fruit started singing happy songs until the farmer had to tell them ….”Hold it down back there…we don’t want any adults to find out y’all can sing.”
Just then they pulled up to  where Gigi and Jonathan, clapping and jumping up and down, met the truck and hugged the strawberries and watermelon before taking them joyfully into the house.
But don’t be sad…strawberries and watermelons are happy to be eaten, but they are SOOOOO much happier when they are making kids like Gigi and Jonathan happy and full….oh…and VERY healthy too!
But just between us….I’m glad I’m not a strawberry OR a watermelon…how about you?

CHAPTER ONE  Seeing Is Believing

From my bedroom, which I shared with my younger brother, I could see the old dead oak tree in the center of our muddy yard. By the way, my room had no windows.
So now you know my gift AND my problem.
I don’t exactly remember the very first time that I “saw” the “un-seeable” but I DO remember the very first time that my Mom caught on.
It was on that afternoon when I mentioned the trunk that Dad had stored, actually “hidden” the night before in the work shed next to the dead oak.
“Wait Roger. How could you see that? Who told you about that? You were in your room and we thought you were both asleep.”
“I’m sorry…but I saw Dad carry it in there. Looked pretty heavy too.”
“So you snuck down stairs to spy on us?”
“No…from my room.”
“Don’t lie to me Roger. I won’t hit you, although your Father will not be happy about this…AT ALL!”
“But I DID…I CAN!”
“Impossible! You’ve told some whoppers but this is…OOOHHH….WAIT ‘TIL YOUR FATHER GETS HOME! Now go to your room.”
Her face was red and wrinkly and she was as angry as I’d ever seen her.
I went upstairs.
“Boy are you in trouble!” My little brother Stevie said with a smile that ran practically to his ears!
“Do your homework, Ugly!” I utilized my seniority position as older brother to shut him up.
“Can you help me with my math?”
I just stared at him for twenty one seconds ( I counted) “Sure!” And I sat down to show him my wizardry with fractions.

Later that day around five fifteen, I looked out through my bedroom wall and saw Dad’s old Studebaker bounce to a halt.
“Dad’s Home Mom!” I yelled down the steps.
She was standing at the bottom of the stairs glaring up at me when I looked out of my
door. Her eyes were as wide as they could get with a lot of white showing and she seemed truly puzzled.
That’s when I knew she knew what I could do. I probably shouldn’t have made that subtle smile just then because that’s when she spun around and shouted toward the back door…
“You’ve got to have a serious talk with your son!”
Dad trudged through the door looking tired and smoky grey from the furnaces where he worked as a boilerman.
“Which one?” he asked and I snickered.
I shouldn’t have done that either.
Mom’s fiercest glare shot straight up the stairs at me and I serioused up quick like!
“ROGER of course! Get down here Roger NOW!!!”
Stevie poked his head out of the bedroom door and I cautioned him, as any older protective brother would do, and said, “Better get back in there if you wanna live!”
“Slam” went the door and I moseyed down the steps.
Of course Dad didn’t believe me any more than Mom had and I needed to suggest a test or two to prove my “Super Sight” to them, which I thought was a cool name for it.
Dad hid a few items outside while I stood in the corner and looked at the crack in the wall.
Then he said ”OK!” and I turned around, looked at the back solid wall, actually “through” it, and saw the rusted red gas can sitting on top of the firewood where I knew it didn’t belong.
“You might start a fire with that gas can Dad…dry wood and all!”
“Don’t get smart Roger!” Mom shook her finger and head at me.
The next time it was the trash can directly in front of the shed door.
They were convinced! But then they just sat down at our green Formica kitchen table with their heads in their hands and stared blankly.
“Can I go now?”
“No! Tell your Father what you told me about the trunk last night!”
I did. Dad looked scared, and I had never seen him like that before…EVER!
Then I got scared too. I guessed that Dad and maybe Mom also were doing, hiding, something awful and illegal and I had found them out!

CHAPTER TWO What’s In That Trunk?

I did ask my parents exactly what WAS in that trunk and they responded that it was none of my business and to go do my homework! Which I did. But I WAS puzzled that hiding the trunk secret seemed to be more important to them than my newfound amazing “Super Sight.”
My problem was that my ability to see through our house walls didn’t work outside of the house for some reason. For instance, when I went outside and tried to look inside I couldn’t. Then I got to thinking that maybe it wasn’t the best thing to be able to see through and into EVERYTHING. But I sure wanted to be able to see into that trunk!
My thirteenth birthday was coming up fast at that time and I thought maybe my parents
would let me look into the trunk as my present. But I would have to wait until they calmed down a bit.
That night at dinner my Dad said “Your birthday is this weekend and you know that your Mom and I don’t have a lot of money but we did want to celebrate your thirteenth with something you wanted AND needed. But now that you apparently don’t need what we got you, we doubt that you’ll want it now too. Let’s go out to the shed and I’ll show you what’s in the trunk!”
I was so excited but also confused, but the excitement won out!
Dad unlocked the truck, creaked open the lid and there it was! An old, used, but in good shape,… bedroom window!
“Stan down at work promised to install it in yours and Stevie’s room. Do you still want it?”
“Ah…yeah sure…and it will be good for Stevie too Dad.”
Well, to make this story less long, Stan did install my window on my birthday and it worked fine…BUT! You guessed it! I could no longer see through any of the walls in our house, which of course, I didn’t know before installation. I was very sad to lose my short lived “Super Sight” but the one thing that made me happy that very night, was that I could see the stars right through our ROOF!”
It worked great at bedtime, and I just had one request for my parents. “IF YOU GET ME A PRESENT… I DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES WANT A SKYLIGHT!”

At the very end of the sentence, in fact, at the very end of the paragraph in the book “Dot”, as she was known to all of the other punctuation marks, was quietly sobbing.
The Question Mark slid over next to her and asked “What’s wrong Dot?” (He was ALWAYS asking questions!)
“I’m so…so…insignificant…unimportant…almost non-existent…period!”
Exclamation Point had overheard Dot and Question Mark’s discussion and came over to exclaim his feelings about Dot’s importance.
“Why that’s just not true Dot….you’re…well…your the MOST important of ALL of us!”
Then it seemed that the whole punctuation bunch rushed down to where all the commotion was around little Dot.
Quotation Mark seemed to be the spokesman for the group and said “Dry up those tears, Dot, you are so super-important: might I add; (and exceedingly vital) that none of us would know where to stop…I mean…do you understand?”
Then Quotation Mark asked “Did I get everyone in on that sentence?”
Dot said “You are all so kind. I’m feeling much better now …thank you…ALL!”
Then bracket ran up and skidded into Question Mark “{ ah }Am I too late?”
“Perhaps next time bracket…it’s OK pal!” Question Mark put his curved arm around bracket.
As they all went back to their proper places, Quotation Mark said quietly to himself “I hope NO one, especially Dot, noticed that I failed to use a period in that sentence!”