Now, I’m not saying someone did something wrong, or anything, but they sure made it confusing for us young readers.
Driveways, Parkways, Freeways, Doorways, and such, all share the Way part… but that’s where any normalcy ends. I get the meaning of way, because it’s describing the meaning of passing through, or
1. a method, style, or manner of doing something.”there are two ways of approaching this problem” h Similar:methodcourse of actionprocessproceduretechniquesystemplanstrategyschememeansmechanismroutinemannerapproachrouteroadmodus operandi
There was more detail in the definition, but I’m only interested in the first part, which is simple enough to understand.
I understand the definition of Way… but that’s the only part that makes sense. It’s the other half of the word never makes much sense…
Why do they say Driveway, when we park there, but call it a Parkway if we drive on it? Have you ever been given gifts or complimentary packages while driving on a Freeway? Doorway makes sense, because it’s a door that you pass through, right? I don’t want to guess what a Highway is supposed to offer, verses the rest of the Ways… sheesh!
I think grown-ups make these word things a lot harder than they should be, if I’m being fully honest. In truth, I’m fairly certain that we all do this at times. I think it’s in our nature, or something like that…
It took nearly three days of paddling… upstream, I might add! But, now we’ve a bit of a walk, as the river could only carry us so far. It’s sort of funny how the brain works, at times. When we were only looking at the navigational charts, I couldn’t make heads or tails of which way to go, and nothing looked familiar, at all!
But, now that we’re actually standing on the path leading toward my grandson’s old house, I recognize everything about this place. Memories, like morning dew, began settling upon my skin like a warm, familiar blanket.
Though it’s been nearly three years since they’ve moved, I can still remember the path to their old house. I remember as if I’d been there only yesterday, or the day before. I have the utmost confidence in those memories bringing us straight to our destination… Peanut!
If we’re to get there, we best get going, right? Eustace insisted on carrying all the gear needed for the camping and cooking bit. While I know where to go, it’ll still take a day of travel just to get there… which means camping gear.
No worries! A little camping never hurt anyone, at least, not our crew! If you were surrounded by a passel of wild babies, with sticky fingers and far too much energy to be good for them… would you rather do it in a tiny boat, or the open woodland, where they can run squealing til they pass out from exhaustion!?
I’m not saying that I’m hoping for a reprieve while they disappear into the woods… I’m just asking for a friend.
If we want to get to Peanut before nightfall, it’s time we get moving down the trail. I won’t be able to send you any messages til we get back here to the boat, so keep an eye on things for us while we’re gone, if you would. I’d be ever so grateful!
And, there’s cookies in it for whomever takes on such a special task…
I don’t fancy having to walk all the way back the sea!
As you know, Brutus had flown back to the barn with the little ones during our ship repairs. While there, he gathered a stack of maps I’d inadvertently left behind.
I may have a good memory for a lot of things but I’m not that good!
One of these maps carries the location of a certain missing troll. You remember Peanut, right?
It’s not as easy of a task as one might think, seriously! We need to find the location of a specific river inlet. We’ll need it if we’re to get this ship far enough inland to find the path leading to my grandson’s old house.
It’s wonderful that Brutus retrieved my maps, don’t get me wrong. We certainly need them if we’re to have any success in this venture, but I can’t make heads nor tails of the silly things. If you were at all wondering why maps for sea routes are all a jumble… Pirate’s, duh! When did you ever hear of a sober pirate? Well, besides myself, of course! I’m just crazy!
Of all my hidden talents, reading maps isn’t one of them… don’t judge!
If I’m being fully honest, I assumed that it would be an easy thing to figure out, what with my memory of old trails and waterways I’d once traveled. It’s rather embarrassing to admit that I find my memory of the past beginning to fade a bit, lately. Either we’ve been out to sea for too long, or… perhaps I’m choosing to close certain doors to memories that are connected to sadness… who knows.
What IS important, however, is that Eustace can read them as easily as a children’s book! No joke! He’d come to offer me some fresh tea, and happened to glance down at the map on the table. Leaning in to look more closely, the camel suddenly remarked, “Hey! We’ve been there before, haven’t we?”
In confusion, I replied “I don’t know, have we?” I had no idea what place on the map Eustace was even referring to, nor did any of it look at all familiar to me… not a bit!
Eustace pointed to several of the landmarks, assuring me that it was in fact, the very river that we’d traveled down after leaving my grandson’s house, several years earlier. With the camel’s aid, I was able to plot a usable course.
We were blessed with fair winds, and full sails. We sailed northward along the coast, in search of a rather large inlet that was marked on the map. On the morning of the fourth day, I awoke to a most beautiful view…
We’d reached the inlet before dawn, but everyone was still asleep, other than Brutus and Eustace. Smoothly and quietly, the two were able to guide our ship through the breakwaters without too much difficulty. They told me all about it over our breakfast in the galley.
Apparently, Brutus flew above the ship and scanned for any underwater obstacles that needed avoiding, while Eustace took the dragon’s verbal guidance and steered accordingly. Once within the rivers currents, Brutus used his powerful lungs to blow enough air into our sails to push us upstream. If not for Brutus, we’d be walking all the way on footpaths. There wasn’t any way that our tiny crewmates could paddle hard enough to fight those powerful currents. The ship was just too big and heavy for oars to be of any use.
At the moment, I’ve sent Brutus to scout out the river beyond our view. I thought he should look out for any obstacles in our path, or any dangerous debris floating down the river in our direction.
While the dragon is busy with that, I thought it might be a good idea to wash and refill all of our water barrels, now that we were back in freshwater. The babes chose to gather fresh wood, along with any fresh berries they might discover. I can’t remember when we enjoyed fresh berries, and I highly doubt I’ll be tasting them anytime soon. Never send a hungry baby to pick yummy, sticky, and sweet berries if you actually wanted some! That would just be silly, and very unrewarding. They were having fun, which was the intended outcome. I was free to work without tripping over a little one scuttling about underfoot. Besides, they made enough noise that I knew exactly where they were, at any given moment.
I should correct myself, here. Not all of the babes went off to the woods in search of goodies. Eustace stayed behind to organize all the maps in my cabin, sorting and storing them safely. There were several maps that he wanted to study further, as they were unfamiliar to us. I don’t actually know where I’d found them, originally. Who knows? Perhaps, once we’re done collecting our forgotten troll, Peanut, we’ll already have decided upon our next adventure.
Back to what I was saying about who stayed behind on the ship, there was only one other that stay aboard the Torrent. Osrig refuses to come out from beneath the bed in my cabin. As I’ve been telling you about all the trouble with ship repairs, trips to the barnyard, and map reading… I’ve been trying to help Osrig through some very difficult adjustments. The poor thing has never seen anything beyond the sea, the sands, and the island tropics. He’s terrified of humans, and I’m certain it was for good reasons! When I was bathing him for the first time, there were many scars beneath his fur. The scars were deep and jagged, running across his face and back. They looked to have come from beatings with some form of whip, or cordage.
Quite honestly, I’m surprised that he trusts in me the way he does. The only time he does come out from under the bed is when I enter the cabin. He’ll sleep beside me on the bed during the night, but at first light, always returns to the spot beneath the bed. When the ship had to go ashore for repairs, I had to leave him in the cabin with the door locked. Creed made sure that he was the only one entering and leaving that room, ensuring that Osrig remained undetected.
While it’s great and all that Osrig is good at hiding under beds, it cannot last! I’ve only a short time before we will be traveling by footpaths and deer trails, and if he’s still stuck under my bed I’ll have to leave him behind… and this time I can’t do that! Nobody gets left behind… nobody! For Pete’s sake! That’s what this whole rescue operation, mission thingie, is all about, right?!
Ideas, you guys… pleeeeeeze oh pleeeeeeze! Does anybody have a hack, secret handshake, magic beans, or irresistible Scooby snacks?
I had to laugh when I saw this prompt, as it brought up a memory that had been lost to me… so thank you, WordPress!
I swear that I might have been born in the wild, because my earliest memories include riding bareback while still in diapers… ya, I have a mind like a steel trap!
Anyways, camping is something that came naturally to this girl, and so, I passed it on to my children. My daughters have been camping since before they were born, as I freely went camping during my pregnancies. When my girls began to grow, we began traveling with a group of about 4 or 5 other families during the summer months, camping and fishing throughout the great Northwest. From southern Oregon, across Idaho and into Montana, and even into British Columbia.
Needless to say, my family are avid campers, fishers, hikers and hunters! They weren’t always so experienced at this stuff, and it took a great deal of training and practice, especially in the bathroom department, if you know what I mean? I had three girls!
How does one raise a little girl to be a tough camper, and yet still be a little lady? Like I said, we traveled with a huge group of camping families, which meant cooking together, bathing in close proximity to others, and yes, using the restroom in groups, for security! With little ones running around, we grown ups thought it was easiest to make an appropriate code word, to signal our restroom intentions. If one needed to use the restroom, we simply said, “I have to go camping”, and anyone who needed to go, simply agreed to come along.
Now, this went on for nearly an entire summer before one of my girls finally asked, “Mamma, how come the grown-ups keep saying they’re camping and then disappear into the woods?” I explained that it was a polite way of saying that we needed to use the restroom, without saying it in front of others. She didn’t question me further, and seemed not to even understand what I’d said. About a week later, all the families gathered at our home to plan the next upcoming adventure.
There we all were, standing around my kitchen talking, when my daughter marches into the midst of the group and boldly announced, “Everyone, I need to go camping… that means I have to go poop!”
I nearly dropped the plate in my hands! The entire room went silent for a moment, and then erupted into laughter! All of the adults in the room knowing laughed themselves silly, while my daughter marched off to the bathroom. The rest of the day was filled with children running around the house, loudly claiming they needed to camp and then laughing about it!