FairyRing
Farmer
That's one beautiful sunflower! and a busy bee? thanks
Dr. eeL
Farmer
There were a couple of opportunities for us forum members to sneak in with a 300 before CA appeared. But . . . apparently none of us wanted to do it. I guess what then happened was rather nice and appropriate. It was a fun game for all of us to contribute to. There's no eating crow. You should celebrate a happy ending with a rhubarb or pumpkin pie, with a side of ice cream. Remember, in Stardew valley, not only does one never age, but you can eat as much as you want and not care about the calories.
Last edited:
WhiteEagle12
Farmer
I couldn't agree more! I missed most of the game unfortunately, but I was right in time for the finale!
FairyRing
Farmer
True that I'm having a chocolate and pink cake then.
Dr. eeL
Farmer
MIDDLEWALK-86
Cassie was fascinated by hearing stories of dragons. One morning, while she tagged along behind me as I was doing a few farm chores, I asked her if she knew that a dragon once lived in Stardew Valley.
Cassie: "No. Really? A real dragon?"
Lee: "Yes, and his name was Frist-ner."
Cassie: "Fish-ner?"
Lee: "Close enough."
Cassie: "What was he like?"
Lee: "He was a stunning emerald green in color with bright red trim. There were plenty of big teeth, lots of smoke, a long tail (with little red ridges on it) and beautiful golden-red wings."
Cassie: "He could fly?"
Lee: "You bet. He was fast. Sometimes he would challenge the birds to a race."
Cassie: "He was as fast as a hummingbird?"
Lee: "Even faster. For some reason he always seemed to win all his races."
Cassie: "Maybe because he was so big."
Lee: "Maybe because he was a grumpy dragon and the faster birds didn't want to go in front of him and get their tail feathers singed by his hot breath."
Cassie: "What did he eat?"
Lee: "It makes me sad to tell you this, but he ate cows."
Cassie: "Would he have eaten our Moosie!?"
Lee: "Oh no. Pet cows don't taste very good. He would eat ordinary brown cows."
Cassie: "Like Marnie's?"
Lee: "Well, maybe if they didn't have a name. But remember, this was a long long long time ago."
Cassie: "I'm starting to think that I don't like Fish-ner very much."
Lee: "Do you remember the time that we went camping in the rock quarry?"
Cassie: "Do I? It was fun. You rolled up a bunch of round rocks to make a pattern that we could jump and walk on. It was like hop-scotch, only with rollie rocks. Even Momma tried it. Then we had a campfire, and I cooked a zillion marshmallows. We all slept in the tent. You snored so loudly that Momma and I were ready to try and push you out."
Lee: "Do you remember the bridge over the dried-up river?"
Cassie: "Oh yeah. That water-less river didn't make me feel very comfortable. There were bones and yucky things down there. If I ever go over that bridge again, I'm going to run across it all the way and not look down."
Lee: "When Frist-ner the dragon would catch the cows, he ate only the meat. He left the bones behind. Some of the bones you saw were his left-overs."
Cassie: "Now I really don't like Fish-ner very much. Dragons live forever. What happened to him?"
Lee: "One day, many many years ago, he swooped down and grabbed one of your great grandfather's cows. Great grandfather came running out of the house to try and save the cow, but it was too late. The dragon was already flying over the treetops with the poor cow."
Cassie: "Did anyone save the cow?"
Lee: "Unfortunately not. I'm sorry to say that the cow was eaten. But as he ate the cow, one of the bones got caught in his throat. He needed a drink bad. Frist-ner knew of a pond in the desert and he headed that way, but just as he caught sight of it, he choked and died. He crashed down to earth and you can still see his bones sticking out of the sand where he landed even today."
Cassie: "You can? For reals? I have to see that."
Lee: "Run on inside and ask your mother if she wants to go to the desert today. If she says yes, then have her call up your Auntie Em, and we four will go and visit."
It took all of a few seconds for a running little girl to dash for the farmhouse, and in less than an hour later, three adults and one highly motivated little girl were on the bus heading for the desert. I had to compliment Pam on her driving. Perhaps because she felt her grandmotherly gene kicking in or something, but today she actually looked at the road and drove slower. As she pulled up to the desert stop, she said, "Last stop. All out." I told her that we would not be spending too much time in the desert today and that we would be needing a ride back. The moment Cassie got off the bus, she saw the camel, and rushed over to say, "Hi." The camel seemed to enjoy her petting, and I searched in my backpack for anything that a camel might like to eat. Way in the bottom was a badly damaged lost parsnip, but when I gave it to Cassie, she got a kick out of watching the camel make it disappear. While Haley and Emily went in to talk with Sandy, Cassie and I walked down the road towards a small mound. Even from a distance, Cassie could see the white bones, and she ran the rest of the way to explore. there were six rib bones sticking out of the sand, each taller than her, and she paid plenty of attention to the skull and still many fierce looking teeth. Her sharp eyes noticed that the bone that had choked the dragon was still stuck in its mouth. I complimented her on being so smart and observant. The only disappointing parts were that the tail and wings were no longer there. We then walked over to the pond and in the clear water one could see the sandfish scooting about along the bottom. Cassie knew all about these, as she had grown up with one in our aquarium at home.
A few minutes later, we joined the three ladies in Sandy's little store. While everyone chattered away, I purchased a few rhubarb seeds. Sandy was smitten by Cassie, and almost like magic, a rainbow-colored snow-cone appeared from behind her counter. I let the ladies continue their conversation while Cassie finished off the snow-cone, but then had to remind the group that Emily was on the clock and had to be at Gus's this afternoon. The great dragon adventure concluded with a short bus ride back to the valley, and the four of us continued on to see if we could talk Gus into preparing a rather late lunch for us.
Cassie was fascinated by hearing stories of dragons. One morning, while she tagged along behind me as I was doing a few farm chores, I asked her if she knew that a dragon once lived in Stardew Valley.
Cassie: "No. Really? A real dragon?"
Lee: "Yes, and his name was Frist-ner."
Cassie: "Fish-ner?"
Lee: "Close enough."
Cassie: "What was he like?"
Lee: "He was a stunning emerald green in color with bright red trim. There were plenty of big teeth, lots of smoke, a long tail (with little red ridges on it) and beautiful golden-red wings."
Cassie: "He could fly?"
Lee: "You bet. He was fast. Sometimes he would challenge the birds to a race."
Cassie: "He was as fast as a hummingbird?"
Lee: "Even faster. For some reason he always seemed to win all his races."
Cassie: "Maybe because he was so big."
Lee: "Maybe because he was a grumpy dragon and the faster birds didn't want to go in front of him and get their tail feathers singed by his hot breath."
Cassie: "What did he eat?"
Lee: "It makes me sad to tell you this, but he ate cows."
Cassie: "Would he have eaten our Moosie!?"
Lee: "Oh no. Pet cows don't taste very good. He would eat ordinary brown cows."
Cassie: "Like Marnie's?"
Lee: "Well, maybe if they didn't have a name. But remember, this was a long long long time ago."
Cassie: "I'm starting to think that I don't like Fish-ner very much."
Lee: "Do you remember the time that we went camping in the rock quarry?"
Cassie: "Do I? It was fun. You rolled up a bunch of round rocks to make a pattern that we could jump and walk on. It was like hop-scotch, only with rollie rocks. Even Momma tried it. Then we had a campfire, and I cooked a zillion marshmallows. We all slept in the tent. You snored so loudly that Momma and I were ready to try and push you out."
Lee: "Do you remember the bridge over the dried-up river?"
Cassie: "Oh yeah. That water-less river didn't make me feel very comfortable. There were bones and yucky things down there. If I ever go over that bridge again, I'm going to run across it all the way and not look down."
Lee: "When Frist-ner the dragon would catch the cows, he ate only the meat. He left the bones behind. Some of the bones you saw were his left-overs."
Cassie: "Now I really don't like Fish-ner very much. Dragons live forever. What happened to him?"
Lee: "One day, many many years ago, he swooped down and grabbed one of your great grandfather's cows. Great grandfather came running out of the house to try and save the cow, but it was too late. The dragon was already flying over the treetops with the poor cow."
Cassie: "Did anyone save the cow?"
Lee: "Unfortunately not. I'm sorry to say that the cow was eaten. But as he ate the cow, one of the bones got caught in his throat. He needed a drink bad. Frist-ner knew of a pond in the desert and he headed that way, but just as he caught sight of it, he choked and died. He crashed down to earth and you can still see his bones sticking out of the sand where he landed even today."
Cassie: "You can? For reals? I have to see that."
Lee: "Run on inside and ask your mother if she wants to go to the desert today. If she says yes, then have her call up your Auntie Em, and we four will go and visit."
It took all of a few seconds for a running little girl to dash for the farmhouse, and in less than an hour later, three adults and one highly motivated little girl were on the bus heading for the desert. I had to compliment Pam on her driving. Perhaps because she felt her grandmotherly gene kicking in or something, but today she actually looked at the road and drove slower. As she pulled up to the desert stop, she said, "Last stop. All out." I told her that we would not be spending too much time in the desert today and that we would be needing a ride back. The moment Cassie got off the bus, she saw the camel, and rushed over to say, "Hi." The camel seemed to enjoy her petting, and I searched in my backpack for anything that a camel might like to eat. Way in the bottom was a badly damaged lost parsnip, but when I gave it to Cassie, she got a kick out of watching the camel make it disappear. While Haley and Emily went in to talk with Sandy, Cassie and I walked down the road towards a small mound. Even from a distance, Cassie could see the white bones, and she ran the rest of the way to explore. there were six rib bones sticking out of the sand, each taller than her, and she paid plenty of attention to the skull and still many fierce looking teeth. Her sharp eyes noticed that the bone that had choked the dragon was still stuck in its mouth. I complimented her on being so smart and observant. The only disappointing parts were that the tail and wings were no longer there. We then walked over to the pond and in the clear water one could see the sandfish scooting about along the bottom. Cassie knew all about these, as she had grown up with one in our aquarium at home.
A few minutes later, we joined the three ladies in Sandy's little store. While everyone chattered away, I purchased a few rhubarb seeds. Sandy was smitten by Cassie, and almost like magic, a rainbow-colored snow-cone appeared from behind her counter. I let the ladies continue their conversation while Cassie finished off the snow-cone, but then had to remind the group that Emily was on the clock and had to be at Gus's this afternoon. The great dragon adventure concluded with a short bus ride back to the valley, and the four of us continued on to see if we could talk Gus into preparing a rather late lunch for us.
FairyRing
Farmer
That was a lot of fun! Nice how it all came together.
Dr. eeL
Farmer
Glad you liked it. Never underestimate the imagination of a frog.
Dr. eeL
Farmer
MIDDLEWALK-87
They call me "Weasel." It's not the most dignified name for a cat. I myself would have preferred a name like "Lucifer," one with just a touch of royalty that captures my personality a little better. But . . . my three human servants suffer from an overdose of laziness, good for nothingness, worthlessness, and just in general are not very bright. Somehow, I got three from the bottom of the totem pole of life, and now I'm stuck with being, "Weasel." Training my human servants is a never-ending task that is apparently my fate in the current one of my nine lives. There are so many do's and don'ts for them to learn. Do give me fresh cat food every morning. The yummier it is, the more I will just sniff it, raise my tail, and walk away. Only later, when no one is looking will I come back and actually chow down. Don't give me leftovers or the same food as yesterday. Sure, I will eventually eat it. But late at night, when everyone is asleep, I'll throw it up on the floor between the bedroom and the bathroom. Then I'll wait and see which unfortunate soul steps in it. Ah, the squishy sound of a bare set of toes stepping in mush and then the human squawk as they try to avoid doing the splits on the wet floor. Yeah, I know. It's cheap entertainment. But I want my food fresh.
Patience. That's what it takes to be a cat. When it rains outside, I can patiently sleep all day in front of the fireplace, and then sleep all night on the bed. How many of you can sit and watch aquarium fish for hours on end? Now, if I could only wedge my paw in between those glass plates on top, I would be a fishing cat instead of a tabby. I can patiently bat that roll of toilet paper round and round until nothing is left but a spinning piece of cardboard. Training my servants takes patience. I beg to go outside; they open the door. I beg to come back in; they open the door. Why do I have to beg? They should be more attentive to my needs. The male servant goes outside more than the other two, and he has all the brains and speed of a sleepy sloth. If he doesn't fill my bowl up right away, I get to race in front of him and lie down, just to remind him of the proper priority in his chores. Lying in front of a doorway usually gets his attention. Speaking of filling my outside bowl, I want pond water, fresh enough to be able to taste just a hint of frog.
Frogs. If there is one idee fixe in my life, please, please, please let me catch one of those frogs. Night after night, I dream about ripping out its still beating heart and plopping the carcass down in front of my littlest servant for her first frog anatomy lesson. These are the entrails, this red patch is the pancreas, here are the kidneys, the gonads, these are . . . I forget, but frogs have them. Later, I'll drop the bloody remains inside one of the Mrs. shoes. I love being a cat. I've watched those frogs for a long time now. Did I explain that I have patience? Every year, they're getting older, and slower, and I'll be waiting. For now, I'll settle for grasshoppers. Catching a grasshopper is child's play. You pull off the wings, and they still try to crawl away. One good crunchy bite ends playtime. Then there's field mice. As you step on their tails and listen to their squeaky cries, so pathetic, maybe a tear will roll out of my eye. A tear of delight and joy. A dead mouse is no longer an interesting mouse. Nothing is more relaxing than to find a shady place where I can lie down, half close my eyes, and pick fur out of my teeth. After my nine lives are up, I plan to reincarnate as an Orc.
Overall, I highly recommend Stardew Valley as a place to be a cat. The entertainment is free. The human servants are steady if not spectacular. It doesn't rain much, and there's plenty of room outside to roam. You know what they say, "Everybody wants to be a cat, because a cat is where it's at.
They call me "Weasel." It's not the most dignified name for a cat. I myself would have preferred a name like "Lucifer," one with just a touch of royalty that captures my personality a little better. But . . . my three human servants suffer from an overdose of laziness, good for nothingness, worthlessness, and just in general are not very bright. Somehow, I got three from the bottom of the totem pole of life, and now I'm stuck with being, "Weasel." Training my human servants is a never-ending task that is apparently my fate in the current one of my nine lives. There are so many do's and don'ts for them to learn. Do give me fresh cat food every morning. The yummier it is, the more I will just sniff it, raise my tail, and walk away. Only later, when no one is looking will I come back and actually chow down. Don't give me leftovers or the same food as yesterday. Sure, I will eventually eat it. But late at night, when everyone is asleep, I'll throw it up on the floor between the bedroom and the bathroom. Then I'll wait and see which unfortunate soul steps in it. Ah, the squishy sound of a bare set of toes stepping in mush and then the human squawk as they try to avoid doing the splits on the wet floor. Yeah, I know. It's cheap entertainment. But I want my food fresh.
Patience. That's what it takes to be a cat. When it rains outside, I can patiently sleep all day in front of the fireplace, and then sleep all night on the bed. How many of you can sit and watch aquarium fish for hours on end? Now, if I could only wedge my paw in between those glass plates on top, I would be a fishing cat instead of a tabby. I can patiently bat that roll of toilet paper round and round until nothing is left but a spinning piece of cardboard. Training my servants takes patience. I beg to go outside; they open the door. I beg to come back in; they open the door. Why do I have to beg? They should be more attentive to my needs. The male servant goes outside more than the other two, and he has all the brains and speed of a sleepy sloth. If he doesn't fill my bowl up right away, I get to race in front of him and lie down, just to remind him of the proper priority in his chores. Lying in front of a doorway usually gets his attention. Speaking of filling my outside bowl, I want pond water, fresh enough to be able to taste just a hint of frog.
Frogs. If there is one idee fixe in my life, please, please, please let me catch one of those frogs. Night after night, I dream about ripping out its still beating heart and plopping the carcass down in front of my littlest servant for her first frog anatomy lesson. These are the entrails, this red patch is the pancreas, here are the kidneys, the gonads, these are . . . I forget, but frogs have them. Later, I'll drop the bloody remains inside one of the Mrs. shoes. I love being a cat. I've watched those frogs for a long time now. Did I explain that I have patience? Every year, they're getting older, and slower, and I'll be waiting. For now, I'll settle for grasshoppers. Catching a grasshopper is child's play. You pull off the wings, and they still try to crawl away. One good crunchy bite ends playtime. Then there's field mice. As you step on their tails and listen to their squeaky cries, so pathetic, maybe a tear will roll out of my eye. A tear of delight and joy. A dead mouse is no longer an interesting mouse. Nothing is more relaxing than to find a shady place where I can lie down, half close my eyes, and pick fur out of my teeth. After my nine lives are up, I plan to reincarnate as an Orc.
Overall, I highly recommend Stardew Valley as a place to be a cat. The entertainment is free. The human servants are steady if not spectacular. It doesn't rain much, and there's plenty of room outside to roam. You know what they say, "Everybody wants to be a cat, because a cat is where it's at.
Dr. eeL
Farmer
MIDDLEWALK-88
I don't know who woke up first, but Haley and I both stared open eyed at each other. The house reeked with a horrible smell. Still half-asleep, it took both of us a few moments before recognition hit us. It was cat poo. Overly intense, totally pervasive, gaggling strong, cat poo. Weasel must have had an accident and missed the cat box. Haley got up, grabbed her bathrobe, and started opening windows. I ran down to check the cat box. It hadn't been used. By now, a cold morning sea breeze was blowing through the house, and I rushed back upstairs to put on some clothes. Still, the smell was everywhere. Haley broke out a batch of candles and started to light them. I lit both fireplaces. All this disturbance woke up Cassie, who came downstairs in her bunny pajamas looking confused and asking to make that yucky smell go away. Starting upstairs, I began a methodical search in hidden corners, behind our many plants and decorations, looking for the source. Normally, I would rely on my two bloodhound noses to find the origin of certain smells, but this morning the stench was so pervasive that their noses were supersaturated. It took me about ten minutes, but I found it, a mushy pile of diarrhea in one corner of Cassie's room. Tons of toilet paper later, I had the whole thing flushed down the toilet, and the corner cleaned and sprayed with disinfectant. With everything open, the house was really cold, and we all put on extra clothes to fend off the chill. Although the source was gone, the shock of the early morning adrenaline still hung around, and it was hard for all of us to calm down. The culprit, Weasel, stood by her bowl, asking in cat talk, "What's the big deal and when is breakfast going to be served?"
Gradually, the house warmed up, and the girls could shed some of their outerwear. Although Haley usually makes breakfast, I decided to relieve her of that task today, and cooked up a potato, bacon, egg concoction in the frying pan that I cut up to make it look like a pie. Add milk, juices, toast and jam, and breakfast became a hit. Haley said, "Let's do something different today. What do you think?" My brain usually freezes up whenever I'm asked questions like, "What do you want for dinner tonight, or where should we go?" All I could do was to punt by saying, "I love your idea. What do you have in mind?" Haley took a few bites and then replied, "You once mentioned that a dwarf lives in the mine by the lake. Let's go visit the dwarf. It would be great for Cassie to meet someone different and to learn more about the valley." Thanks to Haley's suggestion, after taking care of a few farm chores, we three found ourselves riding the mine cart to the mines.
As the three of us rounded the corner to where the dwarf had his small shop, he suddenly started, stood up, looked at Cassie and addressed her in two different languages (neither one of which I understood). I greeted the dwarf and asked, "Hey! What are you saying?" "I greeted that one," he replied, pointing at Cassie, "Both in elvish and in fairy, but I didn't get any response. Which one is she?" He then looked back and forth between Haley and Cassie and then talking to Haley asked, "I'm confused. How did you get to be so big?" Cassie answered, "We had egg pie for breakfast. Someday I'll be as big as my mommy." "Please don't," responded the dwarf. "You look perfect just the way you are." A few moments later, after clearing up some of the dwarf's misconceptions, Haley asked about the history of the dwarfs. Since there was no place to sit, we stood, as the dwarf sat down and began his story. "Our people were fabulous miners. We carved out the insides of entire mountains. The walkways were paved in gold. The roof was shaped like the insides of a cathedral. Hanging from the ceilings were mighty chandeliers of gemstones that gave off a glorious light." "What happened?" asked Haley. "The shadow wars ruined everything. All is lost. All is lost. Now what dwarfs that survived are scattered, and we eke out a bare existence among the ruins of our former glory. Hey, wanna buy something?" Haley ran down the list of items offered for sale and purchased a miner's treat for Cassie. While Cassie and the dwarf were chatting, she took me aside and with one of her "always great" ideas, said, "Let's do something for this dwarf." Looking down at the dust covering her shoes, she continued, "You lay down some nice flooring. I'll run down to Robin's and get some furniture so that visitors can at least sit down."
Seeing how fascinated the dwarf was with Cassie, I had no trouble getting him to agree to letting us help him out by making a few changes to his cave. I started by sweeping out the accumulated dust, leveling out the ground and laying down a patterned set of flooring. Haley returned with a "few" items, that included: a stone fireplace to go in one corner (it gets cold in caves), a pair of lamps on either side of the dwarf (to brighten the place up a bit), four chairs, and a tea table (so that visitors can sit, relax, and the dwarf can place some of his wares on the table). Now, when all these few items were being added to the room, the dwarf had not bothered to look up, but when he did, he was astonished. "All this for me? That's very kind of you! I love it." As the dwarf stepped out to walk on his new floor, I had the opportunity to re-nail back up that partly broken beam that hung menacingly over his head. Cassie being Cassie, gave the dwarf a big hug, and in direct inverse as to how our day started out, the dwarf's ended in complete and unexpected surprise. We three hopped back into the mine cart and headed down to the village for a special dinner at the saloon with Emily.
I don't know who woke up first, but Haley and I both stared open eyed at each other. The house reeked with a horrible smell. Still half-asleep, it took both of us a few moments before recognition hit us. It was cat poo. Overly intense, totally pervasive, gaggling strong, cat poo. Weasel must have had an accident and missed the cat box. Haley got up, grabbed her bathrobe, and started opening windows. I ran down to check the cat box. It hadn't been used. By now, a cold morning sea breeze was blowing through the house, and I rushed back upstairs to put on some clothes. Still, the smell was everywhere. Haley broke out a batch of candles and started to light them. I lit both fireplaces. All this disturbance woke up Cassie, who came downstairs in her bunny pajamas looking confused and asking to make that yucky smell go away. Starting upstairs, I began a methodical search in hidden corners, behind our many plants and decorations, looking for the source. Normally, I would rely on my two bloodhound noses to find the origin of certain smells, but this morning the stench was so pervasive that their noses were supersaturated. It took me about ten minutes, but I found it, a mushy pile of diarrhea in one corner of Cassie's room. Tons of toilet paper later, I had the whole thing flushed down the toilet, and the corner cleaned and sprayed with disinfectant. With everything open, the house was really cold, and we all put on extra clothes to fend off the chill. Although the source was gone, the shock of the early morning adrenaline still hung around, and it was hard for all of us to calm down. The culprit, Weasel, stood by her bowl, asking in cat talk, "What's the big deal and when is breakfast going to be served?"
Gradually, the house warmed up, and the girls could shed some of their outerwear. Although Haley usually makes breakfast, I decided to relieve her of that task today, and cooked up a potato, bacon, egg concoction in the frying pan that I cut up to make it look like a pie. Add milk, juices, toast and jam, and breakfast became a hit. Haley said, "Let's do something different today. What do you think?" My brain usually freezes up whenever I'm asked questions like, "What do you want for dinner tonight, or where should we go?" All I could do was to punt by saying, "I love your idea. What do you have in mind?" Haley took a few bites and then replied, "You once mentioned that a dwarf lives in the mine by the lake. Let's go visit the dwarf. It would be great for Cassie to meet someone different and to learn more about the valley." Thanks to Haley's suggestion, after taking care of a few farm chores, we three found ourselves riding the mine cart to the mines.
As the three of us rounded the corner to where the dwarf had his small shop, he suddenly started, stood up, looked at Cassie and addressed her in two different languages (neither one of which I understood). I greeted the dwarf and asked, "Hey! What are you saying?" "I greeted that one," he replied, pointing at Cassie, "Both in elvish and in fairy, but I didn't get any response. Which one is she?" He then looked back and forth between Haley and Cassie and then talking to Haley asked, "I'm confused. How did you get to be so big?" Cassie answered, "We had egg pie for breakfast. Someday I'll be as big as my mommy." "Please don't," responded the dwarf. "You look perfect just the way you are." A few moments later, after clearing up some of the dwarf's misconceptions, Haley asked about the history of the dwarfs. Since there was no place to sit, we stood, as the dwarf sat down and began his story. "Our people were fabulous miners. We carved out the insides of entire mountains. The walkways were paved in gold. The roof was shaped like the insides of a cathedral. Hanging from the ceilings were mighty chandeliers of gemstones that gave off a glorious light." "What happened?" asked Haley. "The shadow wars ruined everything. All is lost. All is lost. Now what dwarfs that survived are scattered, and we eke out a bare existence among the ruins of our former glory. Hey, wanna buy something?" Haley ran down the list of items offered for sale and purchased a miner's treat for Cassie. While Cassie and the dwarf were chatting, she took me aside and with one of her "always great" ideas, said, "Let's do something for this dwarf." Looking down at the dust covering her shoes, she continued, "You lay down some nice flooring. I'll run down to Robin's and get some furniture so that visitors can at least sit down."
Seeing how fascinated the dwarf was with Cassie, I had no trouble getting him to agree to letting us help him out by making a few changes to his cave. I started by sweeping out the accumulated dust, leveling out the ground and laying down a patterned set of flooring. Haley returned with a "few" items, that included: a stone fireplace to go in one corner (it gets cold in caves), a pair of lamps on either side of the dwarf (to brighten the place up a bit), four chairs, and a tea table (so that visitors can sit, relax, and the dwarf can place some of his wares on the table). Now, when all these few items were being added to the room, the dwarf had not bothered to look up, but when he did, he was astonished. "All this for me? That's very kind of you! I love it." As the dwarf stepped out to walk on his new floor, I had the opportunity to re-nail back up that partly broken beam that hung menacingly over his head. Cassie being Cassie, gave the dwarf a big hug, and in direct inverse as to how our day started out, the dwarf's ended in complete and unexpected surprise. We three hopped back into the mine cart and headed down to the village for a special dinner at the saloon with Emily.
Dr. eeL
Farmer
MIDDLEWALK-89
It struck me that I had never visited the Wizard and thanked him for giving us the reflectance spell that saved our farm from the Witch. Of course, having a gigantic ball of green light burst over his tower that night probably alerted him to the fact that something unusual was going on. He also seems to keep a close eye on the Witch, so he probably knows far more about that evening than anyone. Still, Haley and I thought that an official thank you would be appropriate, and as a result, the morning finds me heading in his direction lugging a super cucumber. As I reach out to knock, the door suddenly swings open and I hear his voice saying, "Come in. I have long predicted your arrival." I can't help but think of the Wizard of Oz acting as the doorman to the entrance to Emerald City, and then a few minutes later predicting the arrival of Dorothy and her friends as they show at the Wizards place. I go on in, and there he was, as usual, playing around with his pot of bubbling goo, and so I explained why I had come, and pulled out the fine-looking cucumber. I think that I caught a glimpse of a smile, and he mumbled something about its "arcane value." As he took the gift from my hand, I turned and noticed some open books full of his writings on a dust covered bench. Normally, I do not try to engage the Wizard in conversation, but curiosity got the best part of me, and I had to ask about what life was like being a wizard. There was a clear moment of hesitation. Slowly he turned away from his pot and looked at me. "You, young man, walk about in everyday life. You have a wife, child, farm, and do your best to leave a gentle footprint on this land. What do you know of madness?" "Madness?" I asked, "What does that have to do with being a wizard?" He looked at me most solemnly, "Madness can be a source of creative energy, a way of transcending the logic of your world. The world you saw on the way to my tower has a certain priority, but it is unintelligible without including the irrational and often absurd world of shadows that is always present. What do you know of slimes, of unspoken rhymes? Where in the forest are fairy rings, and what of the lives of misshapen things?" The blank look on my face told him all that he needed to know. Now, I had collected some strange looking statues from around the village, currently on display in my cellar. But I had never even remotely considered that these were once (or in some unexplainable way) alive. It was not a very comfortable thought that these might be clumping about the house in the middle of the night, sampling my barrels of wine and cheese. The Wizard continued, "You, my friend, only see what you want to see, even if you are curious, and wish to learn more. I see worlds that are invisible to you. Like you, I am also curious and wish to learn more. Do the different worlds interact? Only spontaneously and briefly, rabbit holes at the edges of perception that pop open and close. What you call magic is simply deception, tricks, sleight of hand, look the other way, but here in this valley, where I have chosen to stay, I can feel the influence and effects of true magic." The Wizard's eyes glowed in the semi-darkness of the room, and whether it was the steam from his pot or the stuffy air inside, my eyes kept blinking; it was hard to concentrate, and I certainly was feeling the effects of something. I thought to myself that if the room starts to spin, I'm making a dash for the door. He was right, you know. From the moment I had first stepped off of the bus, years ago, I knew that this valley was special. I suppose it is like boarding an airplane from somewhere cold and windy, wearing your winter jacket, and a few hours later stepping off the plane into a tropical paradise. One breath of the warmer, gentle, more humid air, and you are left wondering, "What am I going to do with this jacket?" The Wizard could see (or feel) my thoughts start to wander. He concluded my visit with a nod towards the door, "Whether you live in the Valley, or somewhere else, there is so much more to this world than you can possibly imagine."
The first thing that I did after getting back home was to remove all the creature statues from the basement and put them in the shed farthest from the farmhouse. Haley asked what I was up to, and I explained that I was simply making room in the house for new and fresh decorations. We could move some the upstairs things down to the basement and she could upgrade and freshen up those things that we look at every day. Haley gave me a look that questioned where all my newfound energy for changes had come from, but in short order, she very enthusiastically moved from room to room, picking out items for me to move. Even as I headed downstairs with my arms full of stuff, way, way back in the corner of my mind, I could hear the Wizard's voice saying, "I have long predicted this." I didn't care. Haley was glowing with new ideas and this world of everyday life was looking real good right about now.
It struck me that I had never visited the Wizard and thanked him for giving us the reflectance spell that saved our farm from the Witch. Of course, having a gigantic ball of green light burst over his tower that night probably alerted him to the fact that something unusual was going on. He also seems to keep a close eye on the Witch, so he probably knows far more about that evening than anyone. Still, Haley and I thought that an official thank you would be appropriate, and as a result, the morning finds me heading in his direction lugging a super cucumber. As I reach out to knock, the door suddenly swings open and I hear his voice saying, "Come in. I have long predicted your arrival." I can't help but think of the Wizard of Oz acting as the doorman to the entrance to Emerald City, and then a few minutes later predicting the arrival of Dorothy and her friends as they show at the Wizards place. I go on in, and there he was, as usual, playing around with his pot of bubbling goo, and so I explained why I had come, and pulled out the fine-looking cucumber. I think that I caught a glimpse of a smile, and he mumbled something about its "arcane value." As he took the gift from my hand, I turned and noticed some open books full of his writings on a dust covered bench. Normally, I do not try to engage the Wizard in conversation, but curiosity got the best part of me, and I had to ask about what life was like being a wizard. There was a clear moment of hesitation. Slowly he turned away from his pot and looked at me. "You, young man, walk about in everyday life. You have a wife, child, farm, and do your best to leave a gentle footprint on this land. What do you know of madness?" "Madness?" I asked, "What does that have to do with being a wizard?" He looked at me most solemnly, "Madness can be a source of creative energy, a way of transcending the logic of your world. The world you saw on the way to my tower has a certain priority, but it is unintelligible without including the irrational and often absurd world of shadows that is always present. What do you know of slimes, of unspoken rhymes? Where in the forest are fairy rings, and what of the lives of misshapen things?" The blank look on my face told him all that he needed to know. Now, I had collected some strange looking statues from around the village, currently on display in my cellar. But I had never even remotely considered that these were once (or in some unexplainable way) alive. It was not a very comfortable thought that these might be clumping about the house in the middle of the night, sampling my barrels of wine and cheese. The Wizard continued, "You, my friend, only see what you want to see, even if you are curious, and wish to learn more. I see worlds that are invisible to you. Like you, I am also curious and wish to learn more. Do the different worlds interact? Only spontaneously and briefly, rabbit holes at the edges of perception that pop open and close. What you call magic is simply deception, tricks, sleight of hand, look the other way, but here in this valley, where I have chosen to stay, I can feel the influence and effects of true magic." The Wizard's eyes glowed in the semi-darkness of the room, and whether it was the steam from his pot or the stuffy air inside, my eyes kept blinking; it was hard to concentrate, and I certainly was feeling the effects of something. I thought to myself that if the room starts to spin, I'm making a dash for the door. He was right, you know. From the moment I had first stepped off of the bus, years ago, I knew that this valley was special. I suppose it is like boarding an airplane from somewhere cold and windy, wearing your winter jacket, and a few hours later stepping off the plane into a tropical paradise. One breath of the warmer, gentle, more humid air, and you are left wondering, "What am I going to do with this jacket?" The Wizard could see (or feel) my thoughts start to wander. He concluded my visit with a nod towards the door, "Whether you live in the Valley, or somewhere else, there is so much more to this world than you can possibly imagine."
The first thing that I did after getting back home was to remove all the creature statues from the basement and put them in the shed farthest from the farmhouse. Haley asked what I was up to, and I explained that I was simply making room in the house for new and fresh decorations. We could move some the upstairs things down to the basement and she could upgrade and freshen up those things that we look at every day. Haley gave me a look that questioned where all my newfound energy for changes had come from, but in short order, she very enthusiastically moved from room to room, picking out items for me to move. Even as I headed downstairs with my arms full of stuff, way, way back in the corner of my mind, I could hear the Wizard's voice saying, "I have long predicted this." I didn't care. Haley was glowing with new ideas and this world of everyday life was looking real good right about now.
Dr. eeL
Farmer
MIDDLEWALK-90
Passing by Pierre's store, I see an advertisement posted by of all people, Linus, who states that he will be offering swimming lessons at the spa, starting next Monday. I take this information back to Haley, who suggests, "Why not enroll Cassie. She's old enough to be able to learn how to swim. Certainly, she's not afraid of the water as we both know when she dove in and captured that frog." There are a few blank lines under Linus's notice, and the next day, I write in Cassie's name. There are no other names, so she might be having the class all to herself.
Monday rolls around all too soon, and the three of us take a leisurely stroll from our farm to the spa. Along the way, I collect a pair of hazelnuts. Once at the spa, all three of us change into our swimsuits. Cassie is in a pink two-piece suit with a little ballerina dress about the bottom half. Haley is wearing her powder blue bikini. Once out the door and into the main pool arena, I am surprised to see that we are not the only attendees. There is a lady and what is likely her son. She looks to be about thirty and her son about ten. We walk over to join them, and all five of us sit at the pool's edge and gently splash our feet, waiting for Linus. We all make our introductions and find out that Lizzy and James are from Grampleton, a nearby small village. Apparently, both Grampleton and Stardew Valley are rural out-of-the-way places, because they share a reputation for fine lumber and summer carnivals. Linus puts in an appearance and moves his two students away from the parents so that he can have their attention without any distractions.
I never had swimming lessons, and don't exactly recall how I learned to swim, but it was mostly by imitation and potluck. The result is that while I can swim, no one would ever mistake me for being a confident fish in the water. For each student in turn, Linus has them push off from the side and torpedo-like glide on the surface out to him. Cassie asks if she can open her dyes under water, and he says, "Certainly, but do not be surprised if your vision is a little blurry." Next, he has the torpedo's kick their feet and see how much farther into the pool they go. Then, they do the same thing, but this time all underwater. He seems much more interested in getting both of them to stretch out and relax in the water, to coordinate their arms and legs, and not so much on needing to breathe. Both torpedoes are learning fast and looking happy.
Besides watching, I'm also curious about Grampleton, as I wonder if it is full of magic too, like Stardew Valley. In answer to my questions, I find out that apparently, they do not have a wizard, witch, or crop fairy. There are some old abandoned mines, but Lizzy has never gone in them, and is seemingly unaware of mine monsters. James has told her about seeing things in the woods that could pass as slimes, but I would have to ask him for more details. I share with her some of the names of Stardew Valley villagers and find out the interesting detail that her husband went to the same high school as Alex. Both were on the gridball team. Her husband was a senior and Alex a freshman. Since she was dating her future husband at the time, she attended all of the gridball games, and can remember how delighted everyone was that finally, after what seemed like countless years of small village failures, the gridball team had a real quarterback. She also knows of Doc. Harvey, and is sure that some of his clients are Grampleton villagers.
After proving to the student's delight that they both could use their freshly mastered crawl stroke to swim across the width of the spa pool, Linus now had them pretend to be frogs and try the breast stroke. He asked both of them to "croak" when their heads came up out of the water for air, and I can easily imagine that years from now, two swimmers will still be croaking. With his hour up, Linus came over to the adults, and said that both students were now pretty confident in the water, but if we wanted to return tomorrow, he would go over everything again, both to make sure that the lessons were remembered, and to improve on their confidence. No problem. We're in. After watching his success with my daughter, I'm wondering if I should sign up for lessons, and endure the laughter from Cassie and Haley as I semi-drown out in the middle of a four-foot deep pool.
Passing by Pierre's store, I see an advertisement posted by of all people, Linus, who states that he will be offering swimming lessons at the spa, starting next Monday. I take this information back to Haley, who suggests, "Why not enroll Cassie. She's old enough to be able to learn how to swim. Certainly, she's not afraid of the water as we both know when she dove in and captured that frog." There are a few blank lines under Linus's notice, and the next day, I write in Cassie's name. There are no other names, so she might be having the class all to herself.
Monday rolls around all too soon, and the three of us take a leisurely stroll from our farm to the spa. Along the way, I collect a pair of hazelnuts. Once at the spa, all three of us change into our swimsuits. Cassie is in a pink two-piece suit with a little ballerina dress about the bottom half. Haley is wearing her powder blue bikini. Once out the door and into the main pool arena, I am surprised to see that we are not the only attendees. There is a lady and what is likely her son. She looks to be about thirty and her son about ten. We walk over to join them, and all five of us sit at the pool's edge and gently splash our feet, waiting for Linus. We all make our introductions and find out that Lizzy and James are from Grampleton, a nearby small village. Apparently, both Grampleton and Stardew Valley are rural out-of-the-way places, because they share a reputation for fine lumber and summer carnivals. Linus puts in an appearance and moves his two students away from the parents so that he can have their attention without any distractions.
I never had swimming lessons, and don't exactly recall how I learned to swim, but it was mostly by imitation and potluck. The result is that while I can swim, no one would ever mistake me for being a confident fish in the water. For each student in turn, Linus has them push off from the side and torpedo-like glide on the surface out to him. Cassie asks if she can open her dyes under water, and he says, "Certainly, but do not be surprised if your vision is a little blurry." Next, he has the torpedo's kick their feet and see how much farther into the pool they go. Then, they do the same thing, but this time all underwater. He seems much more interested in getting both of them to stretch out and relax in the water, to coordinate their arms and legs, and not so much on needing to breathe. Both torpedoes are learning fast and looking happy.
Besides watching, I'm also curious about Grampleton, as I wonder if it is full of magic too, like Stardew Valley. In answer to my questions, I find out that apparently, they do not have a wizard, witch, or crop fairy. There are some old abandoned mines, but Lizzy has never gone in them, and is seemingly unaware of mine monsters. James has told her about seeing things in the woods that could pass as slimes, but I would have to ask him for more details. I share with her some of the names of Stardew Valley villagers and find out the interesting detail that her husband went to the same high school as Alex. Both were on the gridball team. Her husband was a senior and Alex a freshman. Since she was dating her future husband at the time, she attended all of the gridball games, and can remember how delighted everyone was that finally, after what seemed like countless years of small village failures, the gridball team had a real quarterback. She also knows of Doc. Harvey, and is sure that some of his clients are Grampleton villagers.
After proving to the student's delight that they both could use their freshly mastered crawl stroke to swim across the width of the spa pool, Linus now had them pretend to be frogs and try the breast stroke. He asked both of them to "croak" when their heads came up out of the water for air, and I can easily imagine that years from now, two swimmers will still be croaking. With his hour up, Linus came over to the adults, and said that both students were now pretty confident in the water, but if we wanted to return tomorrow, he would go over everything again, both to make sure that the lessons were remembered, and to improve on their confidence. No problem. We're in. After watching his success with my daughter, I'm wondering if I should sign up for lessons, and endure the laughter from Cassie and Haley as I semi-drown out in the middle of a four-foot deep pool.
Dr. eeL
Farmer
MIDDLEWALK-91
More than once, Haley and I have sat on our porch in the evening, and watch our daughter do her best to chase and catch lightning bugs. Together, we wonder what lies in her future. Cassie is now past the age of five, closer to six, growing like a weed, but will it suddenly come to a halt? No one knows. Not being born in the valley, I guess that I am the wild card in this mystery. All we can do is watch and wait. Living a bit isolated on a farm outside of the main village, Cassie has never spent much time without one of us a few feet away. Haley and I also discuss ways to let our daughter become more her own person, and to have the power to make her own decisions and choices. Lately, we have been sending her on small independent missions that briefly take her out of our sight. For example, we will both be busy and ask her to feed the chickens, or to pick fruit from the greenhouse. On a more ambitious scale, Haley recently started to send her to Pierre's to pick up an item or two. Each time, she calls up the store, to make sure that Cassie's arrival is anticipated and that she should show up within minutes.
Last night we talked it over, and after sharing our idea with Marnie, we decided to let Cassie go on her own to meet up with Jas and for the two girls to walk down together and visit the hat mouse. Haley packed a lunch for two (little Tupper wares each filled with bread, fruit salad, pink cake), complete with forks, spoons, napkins, and bottled water. Included in the picnic basket was a pouch with enough coins for two hats. I was out fixing fences when our little girl went skipping by, giving me an excited wave as she was off to meet her friend.
Skipping rope by herself, Jas heard Cassie approaching before she could see her. "Over here, Cassie" Jas called. To say that both girls were excited would be somewhat of an understatement, as both tried to talk at the same time, and both were laughing too much to even hear what the other was saying. "Come on, you can play too," suggested Jas, as she tied one end of the rope to a small tree. "I'll swing the rope in a big circle, and when you are ready, move in and start jumping" continued Jas. Cassie put down her basket and intently watched the rope. The first time she moved in to jump, she didn't go far enough in and got snagged by the rope. Jas said, "Look where the rope touches the ground. That's where you have to go." And in no time at all, Cassie was jumping like Mopsy rabbit. The girls traded places and while Jas jumped, she taught Cassie some jumping songs. Jas's favorite was "Hot potato" while Cassie swung the rope as fast as she could. Finally, Jas asked, "Should we start on our adventure?" and untied the rope. "Let's go down to the dock," suggested Jas. The two girls sat on the dock and swung their legs back and forth over the water. "Are you hungry? I'm hungry," said Jas. Cassie set up a party for two, and while munching away, it seemed as if everything that the two girls said to each other only resulted in peals of laughter by both. Jas was totally in love with Cassie's bright yellow hair, and Cassie sat still while Jas worked to make two small braids. At the moment, Jas had no string or rubber bands to tie off the ends, so the braids quickly became undone.
The now afternoon sun wasn't waiting, and with the picnic lunch over, both girls followed the curve of the lake to the mouse house. Looking out his doorway, the hat mouse couldn't believe his luck with having a pair of customers. Jas knew about the mouse house, but had never been inside before, so Cassie took charge and introduced Jas to the mouse. They all went inside, and Cassie then explained all there was to see. On one last Tupperware in the picnic basket, Haley had printed a large number 4 and a picture of the mouse on it. Inside was a large piece of aged cheddar. The mouse quickly produced some assorted crackers and using a knife, cut thin slices of the cheddar for all to share, as the girls looked around. Hats of all sizes, shapes and colors were everywhere, some on the walls, some on display cases, some in a small loft, and even more stacked on the floor. Jas became even more excited when Cassie said, "My mommy said that you get to pick out any hat that you want for yourself, and she will pay for it." In all her young life, Jas had never heard these words before. The hat mouse stood and watched in wonder as both girls dashed about like baby kittens on a mission, as they made a solid attempt to try on every hat in the entire house. Finally, the choosing and selecting process got serious, as first Cassie, and then Jas examined their profiles in detail in the full-length mirror. Cassie went with the butterfly bow. "We have butterflies in our house, and maybe they will come down and sit on my hand." Jas went with the pretty green watermelon band. "This one just calls out to me, and I'm sure that Marnie will love it too." The last item in the picnic basket was a pouch of coins, exactly enough to cover the price of two hats (with two extra coins left over for the mouse).
While waiting for Cassie to return, I strategically was out cutting some grass for the silos near the South entrance to the farm. Finally, I could see both girls in the distance, splitting up as Jas went one way and Cassie headed my way. She had the look of total day-long excitement mixed with total fatigue. The first thing she said was, "Carry me, daddy." I picked her up and half-way to the farmhouse she was asleep. I laid her gently down on her bed as Haley took off her shoes and socks. Cassie was talking and smiling in her sleep, and apparently re-living her, "best-est fun day ever."
More than once, Haley and I have sat on our porch in the evening, and watch our daughter do her best to chase and catch lightning bugs. Together, we wonder what lies in her future. Cassie is now past the age of five, closer to six, growing like a weed, but will it suddenly come to a halt? No one knows. Not being born in the valley, I guess that I am the wild card in this mystery. All we can do is watch and wait. Living a bit isolated on a farm outside of the main village, Cassie has never spent much time without one of us a few feet away. Haley and I also discuss ways to let our daughter become more her own person, and to have the power to make her own decisions and choices. Lately, we have been sending her on small independent missions that briefly take her out of our sight. For example, we will both be busy and ask her to feed the chickens, or to pick fruit from the greenhouse. On a more ambitious scale, Haley recently started to send her to Pierre's to pick up an item or two. Each time, she calls up the store, to make sure that Cassie's arrival is anticipated and that she should show up within minutes.
Last night we talked it over, and after sharing our idea with Marnie, we decided to let Cassie go on her own to meet up with Jas and for the two girls to walk down together and visit the hat mouse. Haley packed a lunch for two (little Tupper wares each filled with bread, fruit salad, pink cake), complete with forks, spoons, napkins, and bottled water. Included in the picnic basket was a pouch with enough coins for two hats. I was out fixing fences when our little girl went skipping by, giving me an excited wave as she was off to meet her friend.
Skipping rope by herself, Jas heard Cassie approaching before she could see her. "Over here, Cassie" Jas called. To say that both girls were excited would be somewhat of an understatement, as both tried to talk at the same time, and both were laughing too much to even hear what the other was saying. "Come on, you can play too," suggested Jas, as she tied one end of the rope to a small tree. "I'll swing the rope in a big circle, and when you are ready, move in and start jumping" continued Jas. Cassie put down her basket and intently watched the rope. The first time she moved in to jump, she didn't go far enough in and got snagged by the rope. Jas said, "Look where the rope touches the ground. That's where you have to go." And in no time at all, Cassie was jumping like Mopsy rabbit. The girls traded places and while Jas jumped, she taught Cassie some jumping songs. Jas's favorite was "Hot potato" while Cassie swung the rope as fast as she could. Finally, Jas asked, "Should we start on our adventure?" and untied the rope. "Let's go down to the dock," suggested Jas. The two girls sat on the dock and swung their legs back and forth over the water. "Are you hungry? I'm hungry," said Jas. Cassie set up a party for two, and while munching away, it seemed as if everything that the two girls said to each other only resulted in peals of laughter by both. Jas was totally in love with Cassie's bright yellow hair, and Cassie sat still while Jas worked to make two small braids. At the moment, Jas had no string or rubber bands to tie off the ends, so the braids quickly became undone.
The now afternoon sun wasn't waiting, and with the picnic lunch over, both girls followed the curve of the lake to the mouse house. Looking out his doorway, the hat mouse couldn't believe his luck with having a pair of customers. Jas knew about the mouse house, but had never been inside before, so Cassie took charge and introduced Jas to the mouse. They all went inside, and Cassie then explained all there was to see. On one last Tupperware in the picnic basket, Haley had printed a large number 4 and a picture of the mouse on it. Inside was a large piece of aged cheddar. The mouse quickly produced some assorted crackers and using a knife, cut thin slices of the cheddar for all to share, as the girls looked around. Hats of all sizes, shapes and colors were everywhere, some on the walls, some on display cases, some in a small loft, and even more stacked on the floor. Jas became even more excited when Cassie said, "My mommy said that you get to pick out any hat that you want for yourself, and she will pay for it." In all her young life, Jas had never heard these words before. The hat mouse stood and watched in wonder as both girls dashed about like baby kittens on a mission, as they made a solid attempt to try on every hat in the entire house. Finally, the choosing and selecting process got serious, as first Cassie, and then Jas examined their profiles in detail in the full-length mirror. Cassie went with the butterfly bow. "We have butterflies in our house, and maybe they will come down and sit on my hand." Jas went with the pretty green watermelon band. "This one just calls out to me, and I'm sure that Marnie will love it too." The last item in the picnic basket was a pouch of coins, exactly enough to cover the price of two hats (with two extra coins left over for the mouse).
While waiting for Cassie to return, I strategically was out cutting some grass for the silos near the South entrance to the farm. Finally, I could see both girls in the distance, splitting up as Jas went one way and Cassie headed my way. She had the look of total day-long excitement mixed with total fatigue. The first thing she said was, "Carry me, daddy." I picked her up and half-way to the farmhouse she was asleep. I laid her gently down on her bed as Haley took off her shoes and socks. Cassie was talking and smiling in her sleep, and apparently re-living her, "best-est fun day ever."
Dr. eeL
Farmer
MIDDLEWALK-92
There are many who have to drift a bit to find a purpose in life, to try and experiment with different adventures, only to at last settle down in a niche of their own making. Not Leah. She knew from the moment that she was born that she was going to be an artist. One of her earliest memories was being in class (was it in kindergarten or first grade), painting in finger paints. Her brief flash of memory is of the feel of both hands squishing in color, blues and greens, creating a scene of primitive plants springing up from the paper in a worthy pictorial rendition of Stravinsky's Rite of Spring. The teacher had come by and watched her for a moment and Leah could still fell the warm words of praise. Hanging on a prominent display place on Leah's cottage wall is a drawing of a parrot. She had made it when her parents enrolled her in an art class offered by the local zoo. Even today, Leah can see something captured by her ten-year-old self that was more than lines or color, an expression of something like a mountain spring, a pool of creativity that she wanted to keep flowing forever. Although hormones and an infatuated Kel had briefly pulled her away from her destiny, all that was now in her rear-view mirror.
Real discovery requires time and concentration. It is accomplished by individuals, not groups - individuals who stand back from the world, alone, and who are not distracted or interrupted by text messages. Living in Stardew Valley has given her all these conditions, supplying rich, dark, ripe soil for growing her creativity. Sometimes she wonders what the future of art will be, with everyone so interconnected, and no one with any time left to imagine. Not Leah. With every step along the walkway to the tide pools, to Gus's for super, to the quiet wooden dock on the pond in Cindersap forest, Leah has always seen the world through the eyes of an artist. Childlike, she welcomes the changing seasons, each casting its own unique shade of light on the canvas in her mind.
Today, Leah decides to focus on sounds. Of course, she loves the sounds of nature. Lying in bed in the early morning (as well as late at night), it is so quiet that she can hear a soothing bubbling of the stream as it moves past her cottage. Also in the early morning, Marnie's barnyard animals next door provide a welcome greeting to begin the day. Right now, she can hear the wind whispering secrets to the tree leaves, and tonight the crickets will be broadcasting their exotic rhythms. To gather in her thoughts, Leah goes outside and slowly walks around Cindersap lake. As if to add an exclamation point to her emphasis on sound, one by one, frogs jump and plop into the lake as she approaches. All this attention to the sounds of her surroundings makes Leah think about her art projects. For once, she doesn't want one that is inspiring by either being beautiful or unusual. One that sits in the corner of a room, making the same sounds as a pile of bricks and slowly but silently collecting a coating of dust. She wants to create something that people can both see and hear. A thousand images compete for space in her imagination. She recalls hollow long wooden tubes with seeds, spinning mobiles powered by candlelight, walls of rocks with water running down, and hollow frogs that when you rub their backs with a wand, give off the sound of a croak. Recalling in the past how supportive Lee had been of her artwork, she decides to break some of her own self-imposed rules and to keep walking and pay a surprise visit to the nearby home of her farming neighbor and discuss some ideas.
To say that Lee, Haley and Cassie were delighted at her surprise visit was an understatement. Within a few moments Leah was the proud owner of a basket full of truffles, cheese, and a bottle of fine wine. Everyone sat at the table drinking iced tea and munching on poppy see muffins while listening to some of Leah's ideas as she explained about her latest conceptions. "Maybe I could fashion a kind of reverse tuba, where the wind would enter the bell and them emit sounds as the pipes go smaller and smaller," Leah began. Haley laughed and said, "We could keep it in the basement and pretend that we are living with a ghost." Leah continued with, "How about a wooden porcupine. If you push on the spines it impinges on an internal air bladder and makes a fart-like sound?" As soon as she said the idea, we all laughed, thinking that Vincent would drive his parents crazy if they had something like that in their house. Since Leah's favorite sculpting material was wood, Haley and I both voted that she should stick with wood. Cassie then asked, "Why don't you make a life-sized (or even larger) hat mouse?" "How do you make him talk?" asked Leah. "Not talk. Make him sing!" exclaims Cassie. She then added that perhaps you could have a music box hidden in a secret compartment inside. This last suggestion by Cassie gave Leah a further idea. "I could see the mouse having a kind of very large wooden key on its back to invite people to turn the key and power up the music box," she envisioned. "Make the mouse so that he can wear different kinds of hats. That way we can play dress up," requested Cassie. Now most of Leah's artwork has been more "modern" than "naturalistic," and the idea of recreating an animal image carried with it a certain amount of appeal. Even though this new idea was not exactly what she had started out the morning contemplating, Leah liked it. Lee and Haley offered to donate one of their trees to serve as raw material for the sculpting, and now, even on a napkin on their dining room table, Leah began to sketch out some tentative pictures. Nothing stimulates an artist more than a fresh idea, and as Leah headed back to her cottage carrying her basket, she felt absolutely wonderful. "Stardew Valley," she thought. "I love this place."
There are many who have to drift a bit to find a purpose in life, to try and experiment with different adventures, only to at last settle down in a niche of their own making. Not Leah. She knew from the moment that she was born that she was going to be an artist. One of her earliest memories was being in class (was it in kindergarten or first grade), painting in finger paints. Her brief flash of memory is of the feel of both hands squishing in color, blues and greens, creating a scene of primitive plants springing up from the paper in a worthy pictorial rendition of Stravinsky's Rite of Spring. The teacher had come by and watched her for a moment and Leah could still fell the warm words of praise. Hanging on a prominent display place on Leah's cottage wall is a drawing of a parrot. She had made it when her parents enrolled her in an art class offered by the local zoo. Even today, Leah can see something captured by her ten-year-old self that was more than lines or color, an expression of something like a mountain spring, a pool of creativity that she wanted to keep flowing forever. Although hormones and an infatuated Kel had briefly pulled her away from her destiny, all that was now in her rear-view mirror.
Real discovery requires time and concentration. It is accomplished by individuals, not groups - individuals who stand back from the world, alone, and who are not distracted or interrupted by text messages. Living in Stardew Valley has given her all these conditions, supplying rich, dark, ripe soil for growing her creativity. Sometimes she wonders what the future of art will be, with everyone so interconnected, and no one with any time left to imagine. Not Leah. With every step along the walkway to the tide pools, to Gus's for super, to the quiet wooden dock on the pond in Cindersap forest, Leah has always seen the world through the eyes of an artist. Childlike, she welcomes the changing seasons, each casting its own unique shade of light on the canvas in her mind.
Today, Leah decides to focus on sounds. Of course, she loves the sounds of nature. Lying in bed in the early morning (as well as late at night), it is so quiet that she can hear a soothing bubbling of the stream as it moves past her cottage. Also in the early morning, Marnie's barnyard animals next door provide a welcome greeting to begin the day. Right now, she can hear the wind whispering secrets to the tree leaves, and tonight the crickets will be broadcasting their exotic rhythms. To gather in her thoughts, Leah goes outside and slowly walks around Cindersap lake. As if to add an exclamation point to her emphasis on sound, one by one, frogs jump and plop into the lake as she approaches. All this attention to the sounds of her surroundings makes Leah think about her art projects. For once, she doesn't want one that is inspiring by either being beautiful or unusual. One that sits in the corner of a room, making the same sounds as a pile of bricks and slowly but silently collecting a coating of dust. She wants to create something that people can both see and hear. A thousand images compete for space in her imagination. She recalls hollow long wooden tubes with seeds, spinning mobiles powered by candlelight, walls of rocks with water running down, and hollow frogs that when you rub their backs with a wand, give off the sound of a croak. Recalling in the past how supportive Lee had been of her artwork, she decides to break some of her own self-imposed rules and to keep walking and pay a surprise visit to the nearby home of her farming neighbor and discuss some ideas.
To say that Lee, Haley and Cassie were delighted at her surprise visit was an understatement. Within a few moments Leah was the proud owner of a basket full of truffles, cheese, and a bottle of fine wine. Everyone sat at the table drinking iced tea and munching on poppy see muffins while listening to some of Leah's ideas as she explained about her latest conceptions. "Maybe I could fashion a kind of reverse tuba, where the wind would enter the bell and them emit sounds as the pipes go smaller and smaller," Leah began. Haley laughed and said, "We could keep it in the basement and pretend that we are living with a ghost." Leah continued with, "How about a wooden porcupine. If you push on the spines it impinges on an internal air bladder and makes a fart-like sound?" As soon as she said the idea, we all laughed, thinking that Vincent would drive his parents crazy if they had something like that in their house. Since Leah's favorite sculpting material was wood, Haley and I both voted that she should stick with wood. Cassie then asked, "Why don't you make a life-sized (or even larger) hat mouse?" "How do you make him talk?" asked Leah. "Not talk. Make him sing!" exclaims Cassie. She then added that perhaps you could have a music box hidden in a secret compartment inside. This last suggestion by Cassie gave Leah a further idea. "I could see the mouse having a kind of very large wooden key on its back to invite people to turn the key and power up the music box," she envisioned. "Make the mouse so that he can wear different kinds of hats. That way we can play dress up," requested Cassie. Now most of Leah's artwork has been more "modern" than "naturalistic," and the idea of recreating an animal image carried with it a certain amount of appeal. Even though this new idea was not exactly what she had started out the morning contemplating, Leah liked it. Lee and Haley offered to donate one of their trees to serve as raw material for the sculpting, and now, even on a napkin on their dining room table, Leah began to sketch out some tentative pictures. Nothing stimulates an artist more than a fresh idea, and as Leah headed back to her cottage carrying her basket, she felt absolutely wonderful. "Stardew Valley," she thought. "I love this place."
Blurryface21
Tiller
Okay. I’ve sat here, transfixed, for the last two hours, absorbing all of your work. I absolutely love your writing style. Your rhetoric, your storytelling, the way you describe things so vividly, it’s all incredible. I’m in awe. Now I’m inspired to keep working on a story i’ve been writing, on and off.
Seriously, though, amazing job. Keep it up.
Seriously, though, amazing job. Keep it up.
Dr. eeL
Farmer
Thank you so so much, Blurryface. There have not been a lot of readers of the 92 chapters of Middlewalk (it's been a month since I have even gathered in a like). But a few, like you, really seem to enjoy the story's connection to the game and its characters. For you, please put that inspiration in a bottle, toggle that on-off switch to "ON" and bring your own story to life.
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Jayamos
Farmer
Awww, thanks! You practically have a novella here and I’m impressed by the places it goes. I was not expecting post-partum depression to show up! What a rich and humane world you’ve built. Also, Leah is eerily like a former partner of mine, and your last post with the sound-making art would have been right up her alley, especially that reverse tuba.
Dr. eeL
Farmer
After falling for one of the Stardew characters, and getting married, the post-marriage life is sadly neglected in the game. I tried to make it feel real. For the same reason, I also wanted to show that having a child is not as easy as is depicted in the game, that there are consequences, and that for sure, bringing up a child in the valley can be a highly enriching experience.