The Adventures of Etwas the Elf

The elf on the shore of Hvalfjördur

2012-02-13T18:07:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf took a journey up and across Ingolfsfjall and down onto the broken plains that lead towards Reykjavik. Trudging and cartwheeling through the snow, Etwas continued overnight until she reached the foot of Mount Esja, the holy site of Elvendom. She climbed the mountain reverently and placed a lupin blossom in the tiny box where Elf pilgrims left their signs.

She stood on the rock until the sky turned pink in the East and purple in the west, the sacred time when the hidden people make plans. As soon as her skin felt warm, she trotted down the northern side until she came to the banks of Hvalfjördur, the fjord of whales.

Just at the waters edge, she found a large flat stone and she carpeted it with green moss from the mountainside to make herself a soft place. And there she knelt and put her hands into the frigid water. She watched her wrists refract into the efficient curved shape of two seals sleeping in parallel. Then she put her forehead in the water and opened her eyes and saw herself in a tiny forest of algae that reminded her spirit of home in the rough places of Europe.

Then she opened her mouth and sang an Elven drinking song but in the water the notes came slower and lower than when you sing it on a tiny table. The song sounded sadder and lasted longer than when you dance to it.

And deep in the water, a young bull calf balene heard the song and followed it until he beached himself just close enough to the shore to see the tiny elf singing and know he'd been tricked.

Meanwhile, Etwas, who preferred her mischief harmless thought to save the whale so she made herself a long rope and knit a tiny canoe from birch leaves. She poled behind the whale and tried to save him by yanking his tail back to the deep water.

All she managed was to push and pull her boat back and forth, sloshing behind the beached whale. But Etwas had learned about leverage so she walked along the entire south shore of Hvalfjördur with her knife, carving the ice that grew just above low tide. Then she walked the north shore from the waterfall almost to Akranes carving the ice there. Then she got back into her birchleaf canoe and tied the rope around the tail once more and put the other end in her mouth and towed the calf out to the deep water using her miles-long oars.

And ever since then, whales hardly ever fall in love with any singer smaller than krill.

Etwas and the idle bunnies

2012-01-25T23:17:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of green grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she came upon a troop of black and white bunnies holding down some grass.

As Etwas watched, one of the bunnies up and hopped over the one beside her. The others just sat and twitched. Then a third on stepped forward and the others still sat and twitched. Etwas watched for hours and the herd never moved except that from time to time one would hop over another or jump forward or turn around or face each other or face away from each other. One might look to her right and another to his left and sometimes two would look down while two others looked up. Nothing was eaten and no-one was chased and nobody chased and all were chaste and the center of gravity for the whole bunch of bunnies hardly moved at all.

"Howdy!" Etwas cried at last, thinking the poor bunnies had nothing to do. "Do you guys want to play a game?"

The bunnies just sat and twitched until one looked over at Etwas and a few looked away from her and some looked down at their noses.

"I know some really great games!" Etwas promised. "There's pin-the-tuft-on-the-tail, and Loopy-ear, if you like to gamble. 3D Red Rover is fun if you feel like hopping."

One of the bunnies turned backwards without looking at Etwas. The rest mainly just twitched. One scratched, I suppose.

"Or maybe," Etwas baited, "we can play 'Chase the fox.' That's a great game as long as everyone's of age."

Etwas continued to offer games like luckybones and carrotnose and carnival of crows until finally a white rabbit with black hair on towards the back of his head said "No thank you. We're kind of busy."

And ever since then, no matter how idle she is, Etwas always sets aside a little time for distraction.

The Elf and the platinum pony

2012-01-24T08:38:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of green grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she saw a pony running through a meadow. It's mane and tail shone in the sunlight as it ran. It's face was a darker silver but still seemed to glow. On its flanks, sweat glistened over shining silver fur.

The pony turned in the field and when it was facing the little knoll on which Etwas was standing she saw it's eyes were a vivid green and no white could be seen in them.

Finally the argent pony stopped at a small, limpid pond and lowered its muzzle for a sip of clean water. Then it snorted and kicked and bucked and Etwas, swinging from the pony's tail yelled "Yee-ha! Fancy silver might be but it yanks the same as you and me."

And ever since then, Etwas has hoped to find a golden pony.

Etwas and the sheep rodeo

2012-01-22T20:11:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of green grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she found herself looking down at a valley pasture full of sheep on a rainy and windy day. She sprinted down the hill and ran up to the lead ewe.

Etwas jumped on its back and cuddled herself into the wool. It was nice and warm and she started to fall asleep when she thought about the opportunity presented by a whole herd of sheep. She plucked a long strand of wool and tied her tiny metal knife to the end. Then she climbed up onto the ewe's head and swung the knife in a circle. Faster and faster it spun and the strand of wool began to whir.

In the distance, lightning stuck a hilltop and the reflection from the knife looked like a halo of sparks to the ewe who took flight, bucking and jumping as she ran. Etwas grabbed two fistfuls of head wool and rode the wild sheep.

Within moments the other sheep were ready to credit the ewe with an iron temperament. If she was scared, it must be for a better reason than a bronc-busting, rope twirling elf. They ran too and soon the flock was covering the pasture in kicked mud and muck and shed hair. Etwas jumped from one sheep to the next, twirling her noisemaker. "Yee-haw!" she yelled as she did a blackflip from one sheep's rump to the head of the frightened ram behind it.

"Yickety-yi!" she yelled as a gust pulled her from the ear of a lamb and blew her under the chest of another ewe. The sheep stampeded and the little elf jump and bounced and twirled her lariat for hours until the cold and the rain made her shiver. Then she did crawl into the warm wool of a young lamb and caught up on some sleep.

And ever since then, the wisdom of the elves records that every opportunity is a choice and every choice an opportunity and the wise elven adventurer chooses the cozy nap first.

Etwas and the sanctified Puffin

2012-01-21T11:32:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of green grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she came up over a hilltop and down in the valley below, she saw a puffin cleaning its feathers. Etwas bounded down to say hello when a clatch of budgies gathered around the puffin and bowed.

Another cohort of budgies landed around the puffin and anointed the larger bird with oil. Then another landed and coated the puffin with wax. The glistening, noble bird flapped its wings but went nowhere. Then it went to the water and tried to fish but couldn't break the surface. Finally, the puffin called out a tirade of profanity that melted the wax and dispersed the oil.

And ever since then, Etwas tries to remember that puffins and paraffin don't mix.

Etwas and the flea with a fiddle.

2012-01-18T16:41:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of green grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she came to a crossroads. Standing there was a flea with a fiddle.

"Howdy, Mr. Flea!" Etwas said.

"Are you a demon?" the flea asked.

"No, I'm an elf. Why?"

The flea held up the violin. "I just hoped someone would teach me to play."

"Well," Etwas said while thinking. "Wanna go jump up and down on a cat? That's a great game!"

"I know that game. I want someone to teach me how to play the violin"

"Gosh."

"Fleas have so many sorrows. I want to be the best blues player of all."

Etwas considered this. "But, aren't demons always happy?" she asked.

And ever since then, whenever a flea meets an elf, they just cut straight to the cat-hopping.

The Fox* and the Elf

2012-01-17T07:52:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she passed under a fox, trotting along a lava field. The fox spun around when Etwas leapt onto the fox' belly and shimmied along to yank a tuft of hair from the tail.

Seeing nobody behind her, the fox wheeled again in the direction it had been previously pursuing, so Etwas gave the tail another yank. This time, the wily vixen spun in a circle, chasing its tail until it could see the tiny elf on its tail.

"O ho, little Elf!" said the fox, who needed to keep running to make eye contact.

"Howdy, Miss Fox!" the Elf replied.

Still running, the fox thought of a trick to play.

"You know, Miss Elf, it is even more fun to yank my ears than my tail."

"Oh, boy!" said Etwas, who leapt up onto the fox' back and ran along her spine, up her neck and onto her head. She pulled at the right ear and then the left. "Not bad!" she agreed.

"And," yelped the fox. "it is even more fun to yank my tongue!"

So the little elf bounded down onto the fox' snout and, using a piece of braided grass and her knife as an anchor rappelled down from the nostril to wait for the tongue to be exposed. The clever fox knew she had her prey and closed her eyes in gladness as she quickly retracted her tongue and clamped her jaws shut.

She meant to swallow the elf whole but the elf hadn't let go of the rope which yanked and pulled the knife free leaving cutting the grass rope in a puff of pollen. The fox' sneeze came so hard that the elf flew through the air and tumbled onto the lave field, ending up against a rock in a clump of lupine.

"You're right," said the elf. "That was the funnest jerk of all!"

And ever since then, the clever have been humbled by hayfever.

*Foxes are the oldest mammal in Iceland.

Etwas and the gabby cabbage

2012-01-16T09:00:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she came upon a cabbage patch. It looked like a perfect place to play and Etwas vaulted the young cabbages, did somersaults at their peaks and leapt from each in its turn to the next, in its sequence.

"Oof!" said one of the cabbages as the elf alit upon it.

"Why, howdy, Ms. Cabbage!" replied Etwas. "I didn't know you could talk!"

"Well the thingamajig is stuck in my dingabob."

"Oh," said Etwas, sympathetically. "I'm sorry. Are my feet in the way?"

"No, no," the cabbage replied. "You have to pull your stem out."

"My tail?" Etwas asked. "That would be funny, but I don't have a tail. I sometimes wish for a tail. I envy those with tails sometimes. But then I just yank 'em."

"That's silly," answered the cabbage. "Why, one time my old papa, his stem got stuck and sealed just like that. He huffed about and complained but my old aunt Trudi came and gave it a good tug and boy did she clean his bowl. I think she must have used spider spit or something because that was the cleanest sticky cup or the stickiest clean cup you ever saw. Hardly any room for tobacco or tea, I tell you..."

Etwas tumbled down the side of the cabbage and onto her feet in the soil to look at the stem and see if she could sort out the problem. Digging her way under the bottom leaves, she found the trunk of the cabbage looking dewy and thick and well within specifications. "Well, ok, then," Etwas interrupted. "Have a great day! I hope your dingabob gets free!"

And the little Elf resumed her play and the two aphids in their room inside the cabbage head continued to tell stories and fix their pipes.

And ever since then, there's been a distinction between a long story and a pipe cleaner.

The Elf and the cuddly pig

2012-01-15T08:34:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of green grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she came upon a tiny pink hog rolling in warm mud.

"Howdy, Mr. Pig!" said Etwas.

"Sprouch!" answered the pig.

"Watcha doin'?"

"Sprouch!" answered the pig.

Etwas, looking for more conversation leapt onto the hog's flank.

"Sprouch!" protested the pig.

Etwas sidled around to the pig's rear and yanked his tail. The twisty tail pulled straight and recoiled and sprung free and Etwas was thrust by the bounce into the air and landed on her bottom in the mud.

"OK," she said, lying down to dry in the sun on the pigs rising and sinking chest. "Lazy's alright."

And ever since then, pigs are to Etwas like butterflies for when you want to stay still.

The Elves and the Aggressive Gnome

2012-01-14T10:12:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of green grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she realized it was time for the Association of Modern and Modest Elves' Running The Pickle Soiree. Running The Pickle was a card game popular among the elves of Reykjanesbaer.

She trotted over to the Grand Mushroom and helped herself to one of the lupine-seed chairs at the head table. Now, the Association of Modern and Modest Elves, like most elfin establishments, was generally non-heirarchical. The "Head table" was so named because it was draped with a bit of lettuce leaf. The arse table stood on legs of toxtail weed, the bulb table was surfaced with a slice of garlic and the table clothed in rutabaga skin was called the proboscuary.

The game started amid laughter and cheating and Etwas was just about to ruff a π of clover when a drunken gnome leaned on the door. "Who you doin'?" the gnome asked the mushroom cap in a loud low and unentirely coherent voice.

The elves all turned in their seats to look at the intruder, although some checked their neighbor's hands as they turned.

"Yo," the gnome waved with the hand he'd been using to hold himself upright and slid into the dirt. Some of the elves slid their eyes towards one another, their expressions amused and incredulous.

The gnome picked himself up and dusted himself off. He reached back towards his waste band in the rear and made a puzzled expression. Then he bent backwards and reached deep into the seat of pants and pulled out a dandelion. "I brang you dish." he announced to the room.

"Howdy, Mr. Gnome!" Etwas gave by way of greeting and rose from her chair. "Would you like some coffee?" Etwas proceeded to the buttercup blossom the elves used for an urn.

The gnome turned around, fell down, crawled away out of sight and came back dragging an acorn cap which left a trail of white cream behind it and was picking up soil as the gnome pulled it. "I brang you dish too!" the gnome slurred. "'s'pudding."

Etwas got some leverage under the gnome's knee and helped him raise his waist, although he folded over the helpful elf and his beard and nose were still pressed into the floor.

"I t'ought I'd sing you sumpin'" the gnome, announced to the delight of the dirt into which he bellowed. Then he began in bursts "My gnomette has such pretty haAAAAAir! She's lookin' good, I wonderrrr wheeeEE-Eerre. I t'ink of her wif me own self!!!! Den I caught her wif an ugly, um, trollllllLeoleoeo..."

"Pushy, these gnomes," said Mistress Snaeksmjör to her companion Mrs. Blábaði.

And ever since then, there's a sign on the Grand Mushroom that reads, in Elfin, "Hospitality goes both ways."

The elf and the incorrigible dog

2012-01-13T16:02:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of green grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when a white paw from above crashed into the hillock. Etwas found herself between a pair of black claws. "Yipe!" Etwas hollered. "Watch your step! There's people frollicking down here." The paw rose back into the air but then came down in the same place and this time, Etwas needed to leap sidewise to stay between the claws.

"Oh, well for crying out loud. That's enough," Etwas declared. She bounded on to the dog's paw and shimmied up a long, fuzzy leg to a fluffy, white chest. She grabbed the longer hair and continued her assent swinging from clump to clump of canine fur. The dog was shedding, however and on Etwas' third swing, the clump she was holding onto came loose. Etwas plummeted back to the mud, although the clump of dog hair cushioned her fall so much that she wanted to nap.

The white paw rose once more into the sky and came back down on Etwas' head, pushing her and the clump of white fur down into the mud. Etwas crawled back up the leg, this time at the breach, she went up the side which was steep and hard but with the perseverence of someone about to tell another person a thing or two, Etwas made the spine and was bounding up towards the neck when another clump of hair gave way and down went the fur and down came the Elf. Once more, the shed fur made a soft and even warm landing.

Then the rain began to fall and the dog wandered off towards shelter. Etwas pulled the one clump of fur over on top of her and was delighted to find it was not only soft but waterproof and she spent a cozy night in her pup tent.

And ever since then, Etwas remembers that while canine behavior might change with the weather, dog hair is forever.

The elf and the magic bottle

2012-01-12T07:57:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of green grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she found an ornate bottle, half buried in mud. She pulled it out of the damp and rubbed the soil until the bottle sparkled.

But not only did the bottle sparkle, it sang, and not only did it sing, it smoked and not only did it smoke but it spoke. "I am the genie of the bottle! I grant you three wishes!" The bottle heated up as the magic inside it awaited further instructions.

"I can't think of a thing better than a bottle that stays warm," thought Etwas, and carried the magic bottle home to her mushroom.

And ever since then, those who satisfy the fires of others' desires try to keep cool themselves.

The Elf and the Cheerful Reunion

2012-01-09T20:46:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf and her butterfly, Rascal, took a long sojourn in a foreign land. In Iceland, the hidden people rejoiced at her return. There was a great parade in Etwas and Rascal's honor as few Elves ever went to foreign places.

Two elves played Portuguese horns. A swan brought crumpets. The International Association of Hrafnivolkin built a parade float from dried blueberry leaves, birch twigs and goose feathers. Eleven pixies and a turtle pulled the float with a gnome singing Wagner on top in a nest of holly. The senior Elf put on an exhibition of golf and a baboon played a bassoon. From far away, a distant rough voice rumbled a medley of Merle Haggard songs.

The parade ended at Etwas' home mushroom and there was a great feast with rosewater in Rascal's tiny trough and powdered non-dairy cream for Etwas. A banner over the mushroom read "HOME IS WHERE THEY'RE GLAD YOU CAME BACK"

And ever since then, Etwas is at home anywhere she's been once before.

The Little Elf and The Swordschicken

2011-12-21T11:30:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of green grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she saw in front of her a chicken with epaulets on its shoulders and an epée in its hands. "Ba-buck-ba-buck-chook-chook-chook! En garde!" the rooster cried as it lunged at the much smaller elf.

"Howdy, Mr. Rooster!" the elf greeted as she duck a slash of the blade.

The chicken lunged again, plunging his blade forward towards the elf who ducked and rolled in the mud. The rooster waved the blade over and brought it down like an axe yelling "Le victoire, c'est a moi! Taktaktak." Before the blow could land, Etwas was on her feet and somersaulted over the poultry, springing to her feet, a clump of tailfeathers in her triumphant hand.

"To you," Etwas shouted, "Victory. For me, I'll do with a tailfeather pillow for my butterfly to sleep on." She laughed. The rooster sneered. And leapt forward flapping its wings to take air and achieve the advantage of aviation. But a rooster can't fly and hold a sword at the same time and the foil fell and stuck in the dirt at Etwas' feet. When the chicken came down, Etwas was upon it in an instant, the blade glittered in the sunlight in the expert hands of the elf.

"You meesed, ma Elf! Buckbuckbuck!" the rooster said, it's voice full of sarcasm and screech.

"Au contraire, Pard!" Etwas laughed and held up the blade which had the rooster's epaulets, a tiny "E" carved into each.

"Sacre bleu!" said the chicken "Caw chunk chunk chunk!"

And ever since then, the Elves have a saying "the hands that fill the pillow must also hold a blade."

Etwas and the Long Journey, Part V

2011-12-15T15:25:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf and her butterfly, Rascal, were gliding back down to earth after being sneezed by a lava giant. When the breath finally slowed and rascal could get his wings under control once more, they saw lights to the northwest.

It looked warm there and for several days, every time the pair had tried to rest something had flung them in the air and both were very tired, and, frankly, getting a bit irritable. They reached a silent consensus to go have a nap under the bright lights.

"Vrooooooooooooooooooooooooom!" A noise louder than a sneezing troll burst above them and an enormous something other, blunt like a dwarf spear and bigger than 20 giants with enormous wings that didn't flap once rocketed out of nowhere to right above the elf and butterfly. Behind it came a windstorm which once again picked the twosome up and shook them about and spun them but this time the gale didn't fling them high into the air but pulled them after the enormous metal spearbird with the blue-and-gold tail.

"That must be a paralytic roc," Etwas observed.

Finally, the spearbird slowed on the ground and the elf and the butterfly were cast aside. They crashed into an open black box being carried by a human woman with a soft pink-and-white spaceheater inside.

"This must be some kind of spa," Etwas observed and soon elf and butterfly were asleep in the lap of the pink warmer.

When Etwas awoke, the two were in the most brilliantly lit longhall they had ever seen. A voice spoke in Icelandic. "Welcome to Icelandair flight 681 to Seattle. We have sealed the cabin door, please turn your handheld electronics to the off position. Thank you for choosing Icelandair and enjoy your flight."

"You're welcome," Etwas said sleepily and then, aside to Rascal "handheld what?"

And ever since then, Etwas always puts her seat backs and tray tables to the upright and locked position when she flies commercial.

Programming note: The ladies are due in for three weeks later today so, once again, I promise a story a day but not that it will appear here.

Etwas and the long Journey, part IV

2011-12-14T14:54:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf and Rascal the Butterfly were walking through the Hidden People community of Reykjanesbaer with every intention of flying south for the deepest nights of winter when they stopped to rest on the burst bubble of a long-ago lava.

The ground began to rumble and shake. Nearby elves emerged from cracks in the rocks and ran. The sound went "Brr-rr-rr-rr-rr-rr-rr-rr-upp!!!!!!!!!!!" Etwas and Rascal, comfortable watching the other Elves run were surprised by the burp at the end which shook the rocks they were resting on.

Suddenly, the bubble of stone started to rise. Etwas and Rascal, who had already travelled farther than they'd ever travelled before were pretty content to ride along and see where this all was heading. Rascal just hoped for a little bit of south from the ordeal. Before long, Etwas crawled to the edge of the volcanic dome and looked down at the Earth. Far below, she could see stones that had been piled on top of one another and which, from this distance, seemed to be in the shape of elves. That made her proud.

Thunderclapped from below them and Etwas perceived they were moving. With rascal flittering beside her she crawled down the dome and saw that below the dome there extended a twisted chin and below that an enormous body and below that long legs covered by a black skin of frozen lava.

"Chhhhorrrr!!!!!!!!!" The lava giant sneezed sulfur and blew her and Rascal once more into the wet wind, hurling them far away. Her last sight of the giant, it was rubbing its obsidian nose and reburying itself into it's hole. Finally, the air around the pair drained away the inertia and Rascal caught the elf before she tumbled to Earth. Rascal looked up at the stars and calculated glumly that they'd been blown northwest.

And ever since then, Etwas tries to bless people before they sneeze.

Etwas and the Long Journey, Part III

2011-12-13T10:55:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf and her butterfly, Rascal, were leaving blá lonið for the warm South when a hard gale caught the butterfly's wings and tossed the pair high into the air.

Northward, instead of southward they were carried and higher and higher into the sky. Etwas tried to look down and see where they were but the bitter cold made just the act of opening her eyes painful.

"Hey! Get out of the road!" came a deep voice. Etwas covered her eyes with her hands to open them and saw a brightly lit red nose on a tiny, flying reindeer.

"Reindeer can't talk!" yelled the elf.

"Road hog!" boomed the voice again and Etwas saw that the sound came from behind the red-nosed reindeer and eight black-nosed comrades in a big sleigh in which sat a jolly old elf in a red coat, with a red hat- the plaintiff.

The stream of wind didn't grab so hard up there and soon Rascal could direct his flight once more.

"I'm not turning for you, butterfly!" St. Nicholas roared. "There were three good children this year and I have to get from Emma Lynn's house clear out to Payton's before the sunrise! Now git!"

Suddenly the sleigh lurched and dove as Etwas yanked on the tails of the reindeer in turn. "You've been very bad, Santa!" the tinier elf accused. "Staying up all night and whatnot. Watch out Grylla's cat doesn't get you!"

The jolly old Elf continued on his way, chastened. He looked both ways before crossing over roads, kept his sleigh at a reasonable speed and went to bed each night on the early side. Etwas and Rascal settled down to earth in the Elf country along the coast by Reykjanesbaer.

And ever since then, Etwas is careful not to stand in front of the well-intentioned and bearded.

Etwas and the Long Journey, Part II

2011-12-12T12:19:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time, Etwas and Rascal were resting by the waters of the Blá Lonið trying to choose a destination for their very long journey when the northern lights rose in the sky and were followed by frozen rain. The pair huddled under the shelter of a broken column of basalt and the butterfly slowly flapped its wings to draw in the heat from the geothermal lagoon.

"We could go north to Grimsey and shake hands with a Puffin," Etwas contemplated out loud but a sudden gale drowned her voice and Rascal just stared at her.

"We could also, I suppose, go see Finland. I hear there are a lot of Elves in the north." Falling ice clanked upon the stones all around Etwas' feet. Her words were lost in other pitter-patters.

"Want to go pan for gold in the Yukon?" Etwas directed the question at Rascal but so much snow was now blowing under the stone that her words were muffled and even she could hardly hear herself. She sat a moment enjoying the silence and Rascal did too. Then the butterfly danced a quick jig and pointed with his antennae.

"Ok," Etwas answered. "South it is."

And ever since then, Etwas defers to butterflies on matters of migration.

Etwas and the Long Journey, Part I

2011-12-11T05:41:00.001-08:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she decided to take a longer journey. She ran home and saddled up Rascal. Then she filled a pack with dried berries and a flask of honey for Rascal. She threw a blanket around Rascal's neck, lest the butterfly get cold on the journey.

"Hi, ho, Rascal," Etwas cried, mounted at last. "Awayyyyyy!!!!!!!!!"

Soon the two friends were up over the mushroom and it disappeared finally beneath them. Far to the North, the pair passed over Ingolfsfjall and turned West. The ground rose and steamed when they passed over Hveragerdi and continued to rise. Soon they were over the great reservation where mystical hills and valleys drained to the West.

For days the pair travelled and again and again, the landscape changed. Suddenly the earth was dominated by human habitation and commerce. The pair persevered stunned at the lights of the urban world and the aurora in the sky. Occasionally they stopped and rested but not for long. The pair were committed and continued even in harsh winds or piercing cold.

Finally, the two nestled for warmth near the waters of blá lonið. "So," Etwas turned to Rascal. "Where do you think we should go?"

And ever since then, Etwas always tries to find her destination before she arrives.

*Etwas and the big rock

2011-12-10T05:35:00.001-08:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she ran into a big rock.

"Howdy, Mr. Rock!" Etwas greeted the stone.

"Hello, Etwas," said the big rock.

"Watcha doin'?" Etwas asked.

"Not much," the boulder answered. "You?"

"Running around, mostly. Forests of grass, canopies of clover. That sort of thing."

"You know what I'd really like really like to do?"

"What's that?"

"Stretch! I've always wanted to yawn and stretch."

"I get it!" Etwas chirped. "I've always wanted to spend a day sitting around on the ground."

And ever since then, Elves and rocks are more ambitious together than separately.

*Cowritten with Stevie Elfsmoosher

The Elves at Stonehenge

2011-12-09T03:48:00.001-08:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she realized it was time to leave for her appointment. She turned to the north and followed the natural lines of spiritual force to the mountain where her promise awaited.

She climbed up a tree whose top swayed near the cliffside. She let the breeze carry her back and forth until she was close to the shear face and when the tip was nearest the side, leapt and took hold of an exposed root. She leapt and grabbed the root.

One hand over the other, she shimmied up the exposed root until she reached a tiny cleft in the side of the mountain. She stuck her hands inside the crack, one over the other and then her tiny toes. In this way she managed to reach the tableland at the top.

Over the tableland she ran until she reached the Western point where at long last she reached a deep crevasse. From the abyss she heard a sound. "Shoop, shoop, shoop, shoop, shoop!" A cloud of dirt and shards of stone appeared above the top of the crack in rhythm with the sound and sprinkled her face and her hat with disembodied mountain. "Shoop shoop shoop shoop shoop" from below. "Tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, poof" above.

Etwas dove over the rim of the fault in the top of the edge of the mountain. On the way down the smooth sides of the stone met her back and she began to slide until finally, she reached the bottom.

"Did you bwing the wedge?" Eamon the Elf asked her, standing over his pick and shovel.

"Howdy, Eamon! Of course I did."

"Sweahh," said Eamon. Put it dayuh." and he pointed to a thin crack that spread in the bottom of his excavation. Etwas fit the diamond into the center of the crack and pushed it as far as it would go. Eamon swung his pick and hit the diamond true. "Ping!" and then a deep rumbling noise emerged from the rock in the mountain.

"Whoa, boy!" Eamon cried. "Bettah ho'd onto de wock!" Both the Elves grabbed the side of the stone while the separation between the sides started to groan and grow.

"Push!" Etwas cried and the two tiny Elves braced their feet against the opposite sides and pushed with all of their might. Finally, the entire western end of the mountain began to move and with a roar fell away from the rest. The two Elves held tight to the falling scarp of stone and soon they were plummeting, attached to the great slate wall. Down and down they fell until the wall exploded, shattered when it struck something hard and pointy with a loud "kaboom!"

When the dust finally settled and they could see, they discovered themselves in a mop of dirty, coarse and curly hair, just as they'd planned. "Happy birthday, Stevie!" the two elves cried.

"Whoa!" Said Stevie Elfsmoosher, the big, mean, ugly ogre. "That's a lot of rock!"

"We gived you a stonehenge!" Eamon chirruped.

"Stone head," Etwas whispered to her tiny cousin. "That's 'Stonehead.'"

And ever since then, elves always bring a thoughtful present to a birthday party.

The little elf and the tol'able snowman

2011-12-08T05:45:00.001-08:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when the snow started to fall. Faster and faster it fell. The drifts began to build, soft snow, the kind a little elf can fall right through. Indeed, Etwas fell into a drift.

It was warm in the little snow cave her plummet made. But here's the thing about Elves- if they have no work to do and no tricks to play, they like a little company. Etwas started to build a snowman to play cards with. She pulled in snow from the walls of the cave and rolled them up into a big ball. She went back to the walls and pulled in some more snow to make a smaller ball. This ball she placed on top of the larger ball.

Then she went back to the walls and pulled in yet more snow and made the snowman's head. Once that was in place she realized she needed some sticks for arms, some stones for eyes, something stumpy for a nose, a hat and a scarf. She widened the snow caves walls some more until she reached a mulberry bush buried in snow.

There was a single late mulberry and she pulled the bottom drupes apart to make the snowman's eyes and mouth. The top of the berry she used for a nose. She made arms from the vines. She braided dead mulberry leaves to make a scarf. All of this she carried back to the snowman and assembled it all. Then she realized it needed a hat, so she took off her own and placed it on the snowman's head.

Etwas declared her snowman just fine. "I'll call you 'Snjókall!'" she added. The wide walls of the snowcave were now too far apart to support the snow on top and the echoes of Etwas' exclamation brought down the roof.

"Guess I'd better get to work," said Snjókall and he started excavating himself and the tiny Elf, using the green elf hat as a pail. Once they were back under the sky he thanked her especially for the hat.

And ever since then, Etwas always shares something whenever she makes a new friend.

The elf and the pixie

2011-12-07T07:25:00.001-08:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she came upon her cousin, Payton the Pixie who was fluttering her wings and staring up the trunk of a begonia.

"Howdy, Payton!"

"Hi, Etwas!"

"Watcha doin'?"

"Looking for someone to play cards with. I thought I saw some aphids up there." Payton flapped her little wings quickly and elevated, turning a little bit from plumb from time to time, to the height of the begonia blossoms, but seemed to find no aphids. "Just one ladybug is all I saw."

"Well, I like cards. Maybe see if the ladybug wants a game?"

Payton raised herself up again and frowned. She landed and said "Now there's just a little frog up there."

"Well, maybe invite the frog."

A third time, Payton bobbed and weaved vertically and this time a hawk swooped down, the begonia shook, and Payton landed a third time. "Now nobody's there."

"Boy," said Etwas, "nobody wants to play a game of chance anymore."

"It's a pity," Payton answered, "how about Uno?" The two played cards, told stories and laughed until sundown.

And ever since then, Elves always keep on the alert for signs of missing gamblers.

The elf, the fox and the sour grapes.

2011-12-06T09:19:00.001-08:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she came upon another fox standing below an arbor. The fox was staring balefully at the grapes which were out of her reach.

Etwas greeted her. "Howdy, Missus Fox!"

"Hello, Etwas," the fox sulked.

"What's the matter?"

"No matter," Mrs. Fox answered. "I can't reach those grapes but they're probably sour."

Etwas jumped up the trunk of the vine and nestled in among the grapes at the top. She picked one.

"Maybe," she said, "but they're still fun to chuck!" She winged a few of the suspected sour grapes at the fox and jumped onto her nose. The fox snapped at Etwas who jumped onto the fox' tail as the fox wheeled in circles trying to bite her own backside until, finally exhausted, she lay down laughing alongside an invigorated Etwas. When she finally stopped laughing, Etwas said "I'm just glad you weren't hungry for butter!" The fox and the elf laughed at that some more.

And ever since then, Etwas calls grapes by the name "findubermaleelon" which, in Elfish, means "the sweet fruit of the sourpuss."

The elf and the astrologer

2011-12-05T08:22:00.001-08:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she came around a corner and saw a fox standing on its hind legs with a telescope held up to its eye. On nearby stump lay a chart of some sort on which the fox intermittently made notes.

"Howdy, Mr. Fox!"

"Hello, Etwas."

"Watcha doin'?"

"Checking the stars."

"For what?

"For signs."

"You mean like wolf tracks?"

"Like portents and omens."

"Portents and omens?"

"Evidence of that which hasn't happened yet but will. Important things!," the fox growled. "I look to the stars for clarity."

"Keep looking," the Elf suggested as she cast her gaze to the sky.

And ever since then, Etwas believes that for every chart there must be a dictionary.

The tiny Elf and the flow of commerce

2011-12-04T06:51:00.001-08:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she came upon a new stream burbling across a low point in what had been a dry meadow. Etwas jumped over the new brook, then jumped back. Then she decided it needed a name so she sat down to listen to the water babble.

After a while, a grasshopper rafted past on a raft of pine needles. "Howdy, Mr. Grasshopper! Whatcha doing?"

"Why," answered the grasshopper, "I'm testing this new stream to see if it's a good way to ferry food to my cache. And I'm hoping for rapids!"

"Good luck, Mr. Grasshopper!" Etwas hollered after him as he shouted "wheeeeeeeeeee!"

After a while, a little mouse poled his way up the stream.

Etwas greeted her. "Howdy, Miss Mouse! Watcha doin'?"

"I'm looking for love, little elf. Looking for love. I've never been up this way before. Hope the ride gets wild."

"Good luck, Miss Mouse!"

Etwas sat a while longer listening to the water bubble and splash. Then 10 ants floated past on a birch leaf loaded with breadcrumbs.

Etwas waved and called "Howdy, Messieurs Ant! Watcha doin'"

As one, the ants rose to bow and answered "We're taking food to our home to store for the summer and hoping there are no rapids."

And ever since then, the little stream is called "Finance."

The elves in the blizzard

2011-12-03T06:02:00.001-08:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when it started to snow. It was no average Icelandic snowstorm with terrific winds and overwhelming drifts but a real icelandic blizzard that assassinates the sun and smothers the ground and replants trees besides themselves.

In moments, Etwas found herself buried and took out her knife to begin the process of building a way to the surface. She built a little cave and spit to make sure which way down was and infer from that up. She dug a little ledge in the snow and dug deeper to make another one. For fun, she dug her stairs at a slight angle and by the time she reached the surface, the staircase spiralled like a pig's tail.

She reached the surface and the snow was still falling heavily and the world was still black and the air was still silent. But then she heard footsteps nearby. They were familiar footsteps.

"Howdy, Eamon!" she called to her cousin.

"Oh, hi, Etwas!"

"What are you doing out in this weather?"

"I'm getting wost in de snow!" Eamon the Elf replied.

"Fun!" said Etwas. Can I come with you?"

"Shooah! But don't weave no feetsteps," Eamon scolded. "It's funna if you pwetend you awen't dayah."

Etwas shimmied up a nearby tree and took two leaves which she tied to her feet so that she would leave leaftracks instead. Eamon was inspired so he looked around until he found a nest of birds, huddling together in the weather. He plucked two tailfeathers and made his own snowshoes so he could leave tracks like a goose bouncing along the ground on its bottom.

The two trudged along in circles and arcs and curlicues until Eamon said "OK! We'ah heah!" and the two sat down to build a tiny fire and roast currants.

And ever since then, elves will tell you that home is wherever you're lost.

Etwas the Elf and the priest of Odda

2011-12-02T07:17:00.001-08:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she found herself in Odda. A tall, red spire rose above the low hills and Etwas decided to explore the caves nearby.

In one of the caves, she found a gnome pacing back and forth in the darkness. It was hard to see, but the gnome seemed to be wearing a bishop's mitre, priestly vestments and a large rood around his neck. "Come on, Dark one. I can take you!" the gnome was muttering. A halberd rested on one arm.

Etwas greeted the gnome. "Howdy, Mr. Gnome!"

The gnome turned and rushed at her, raising the pole-ax. Etwas darted between the gnomes feet and yanked his tail.

"Oh!" the gnome declared in a gruff voice. "I thought you were a demon."

"I get that sometimes," Etwas admitted. "What are you doing in this cave?"

"Stamping out paganism."

"Just in this cave?"

"For now."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"We can only do as we're called to do. As for me and this here cave, we will serve the LORD."

"That's nice. So what if a pagan came in here to get out of the rain?"

"I'd stomp them! I'd punch them! I'd chop them into pagan croquets with my halberd. I'm outstamping pagans in this cave and, one day, beyond. Wait! I hear one now." In fact, a bat was pinging the walls as it left its nest. The gnome chased the bat around for a while, bashing the walls with the blade as he stumbled and scrambled and fumbled.

"Ok," the little elf allowed, "I don't want to interfere with Heaven's work so I'll just see myself out. Careful the stone doesn't dull your blade."

"See you, Etwas," the gnome barked over his shoulder. "And don't worry about me. The LORD has a sharp blade waiting for me in the hereafter!"

Etwas went back to her outdoor play.

Ever since then, elves and gnomes give no comfort to the heathen.

The Elf and the Assisted Self-Improvement Center

2011-12-01T14:41:00.001-08:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she decided to go pay a visit to her Uncle Gummi. Gummi was mostly a troll with some mad scientist thrown in. Nobody remembered whether he had started as a troll and become a mad scientist, or if he had been a mad scientist first and was turned into a troll. But most suspected that he had done the work himself.

Uncle Gummi ran an assisted self-improvement clinic on the banks of the Þjórsá river. Nobody was sure, but many who knew the place suspected he built his clinic by the raging river to drown the wailing sounds that came from inside. Regardless, he was rarely low on paying customers.

"Howdy, Uncle Gummi!," Etwas yelled over the howling when she came in the door.

"Oh, hey there, Etwas! How are you feeling?"

"Oh, I'm fine, Uncle Gummi!" Etwas answered quickly. "Pink of health, yessiree."

"Want to meet some of my new patients?"Uncle Gummi showed Etwas into a room where a tiny fairy was folded double, her itty-bitty body rotating around legs 20 times as long as a fairy's natural size. "This is Golarun Stormsdóttir. She came here because she is the fairy godmother of an Ogre and felt her gifts weren't taken seriously because she was so small. So I chopped off her feet and sowed willow branches between them and her ankles. How you feeling about yourself now, Golarun?" Bent over at the ceiling, Golarun's face and body was level with Etwas' eyes, but upside-down. She held out a tiny thumb in what would be the upward direction, measured antenna-wise. "That's great," the self-improvement guru encouraged as Etwas backed out of the room.

Uncle Gummi took her to the next room. Opening the door revealed a bumblebee that was smashing from wall to wall out of control with contrails following its wings. "This here is Kent. He's a drone who read that bumblebees are aerodynamically incapable of flight, and can only leave the ground because they don't understand physics. Well, once he read that he lost his confidence and, with it, the ability to work. So I put together two tiny afterburners for his wings and now he's flying better than an eagle. Isn't that right, Kent?" The bee nodded once before the motion sent him into a forward spin that he only got under control by grabbing Etwas for ballast. "Why, that's just fine, Kent." The bee managed to cram his nose into a corner and keep still for a moment so he dropped Etwas onto her uncle's shoulders.

"And the best part is," Uncle Gummi whispered into his niece's ear, "he'll never sting again. Long before he can get his business end backed up to stab you a good one, your skin'll burst into flames."

"Nice fix!" Etwas agreed, backing out the second door.

The third door opened into a long hallway with a stairwell at the far end lit by a flickering green glow. Etwas could hear noises exhoing in a distant cavern. "Rat-a-tat-a-tat-a-tat Weeeeeeowwww!!! rat-a-tat-tat thud."

"Well, I'd better get back to work," Uncle Gummi said.

"Don't want to keep you," Etwas offered.

"Oh! I brought you some potato cakes!"

"My favorite!" Gummi thanked her. "And you know, I have a goose coming by tomorrow who's been trying to figure out how to ice skate..."

Etwas turned to leave but took the wrong door at first. Behind it, in a dark room, sat what looked like a toad except that its eyes glowed like a lightening bug, a fork flickered where its tongue should have been and where its front legs should be were talons like on a condor. And its head was covered, save a patch here and there of green skin, with what Etwas initially thought was hair but, on closer inspection, turned out to be thousands of tiny wings. "What did he need help with?" Etwas asked as soon as her speech returned.

"Oh," explained Gummi, "That's Doug. Nothing wrong with him at all, but it seems to make him feel better to hang around here and watch me work. Placebo effect, I'm thinking."

And ever since then, Etwas tries to adapt to situations instead of changing for them.

The Elf and the Furry Caterpillar

2011-11-30T15:03:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of small flowers when she came across a fuzzy caterpillar. Almost immediately, the furry thing started to follow Etwas wherever she went.

When Etwas went for a walk, the caterpillar inched along beside her. When she ran, the caterpillar inched faster. When she climbed trees, the thing climbed along and when she played, the clumsy creature tried to match the game. This went on for almost two weeks until Etwas decided to take Rascal out for a ride and the caterpillar couldn't fly.

So it sewed itself up into its chrysalis and, just before its face was hidden and Etwas was out of sight it called "See you in a few weeks, Etwas!"

And ever since then, elves always play age-appropriately.

The Elves and the Salmon Castle

2011-11-28T13:24:00.001-08:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she came upon her cousin Eamon with his hands under his hat standing over a square patch of bare earth.

"Howdy, Eamon!"

"Hi, Etwas," her cousin sulked back.

"Whatcha doin'?"

Eamon just stared down at the patch of ground he had torn all the grass from and moved all the rocks out of. "Bewding a castew."

"Want some help?"

"Yes, pweese."

"OK, I can gather up some sticks for the walls."

Eamon frowned. "Naw," he said, "wood sometimes catches on fioo."

"Do you want me to gather some stones? We can build rock walls."

Eamon frowned again and furrowed his brow. "Naw," he said, "Dey might tumbew ovah and faw on my head."

Etwas thought a minute and then her face brightened. "Come here," she said, "I want to show you something."

So the two elves went down to the river and Etwas took out her little knife and cut some cotton weeds. She pulled the fibers apart and then braided them together into a rope. Then a salmon jumped out of the river and Etwas threw the rope into the salmon's mouth. "Grab on!" she cried and soon Etwas and Eamon were flying through the water on the salmon's back.

The salmon swished its tail and splashed water past Eamon's ear. Then it dove over the side of a waterfall. "Woooooowwwwiiiiiiieeeeeeeee!" the two elves shouted. The salmon dove to the bottom and then jumped the surface of the river, flipped in midair and came down with a crash. It raced towards the bank and turned sharply around. This time, the two elves lost their footing and flew through the air. The pair landed in a sloshing tumble onto the moss and lay there, bruised and laughing until their sides ached.

"You see, Eamon," his cousin explained, "we really need a fortress that'll move with us."

And ever since then, Eamon has been open to alternative systems of architecture.

The elf and the beetle

2011-11-27T14:35:00.001-08:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she saw a beetle starting a hole in the dirt as the sun was just rising.

"Howdy, Ms. Beetle!" Etwas greeted the carapacious cavernator.

"Hi, Etwas, can you help me dig my hole?"

The elf took out her little knife and started digging with the beetle. As the hole got deeper, they took turns- one would dig down and the other would keep the walls smooth, strong and circular. Down and down they dug. Before long they were down over their heads and the roles changed with one digging out the bottom and tending the sides, and the other carrying the tailings out and dumping them on the ground nearby.

Eventually, the hole was so deep that the one digging was constantly in darkness and still they dug. Before long, even the one strewing the dirt outside the hole was in darkness.

"OK," the beetle said finally. "That's perfect."

"Is this a nest for your babies?" asked Etwas.

"No, no."

"Are you going to store food in here?"

"Nah," answered the dirty beetle.

"Are you going to live in here? Or hide from predators in here?"

"Nope."

"Then why did you want to dig this hole?"

"I just wondered what was at the other end."

And ever since then, Etwas is careful to ask questions before she starts digging around.

The elf and the reverent rodents

2011-11-24T00:22:00.001-08:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the elf was running through the forests of grass and under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she came upon a tiny table made of a flat pebble sitting on four matchsticks sunk firmly in the dirt. Around the table sat a squirrel, a chipmunk, a dormouse and a rat on their hind legs, which is considered exceptionally mannerly in the rodent community. Their eyes were shut and their forepaws cycled under the chins. Nobody spoke but every whisker twitched. Beside them, on the ground, there was a scrap of cloth from which delicious aromas rose.

"Howdy, Misters Squirrel, Chipmunk, Dormouse and rat." Etwas greeted the aristocrats once their eyes opened.

"Hello, Ms. Etwas," said the squirrel.

"A goo-goo-guten Tag." stuttered the chipmunk.

"Buenas dias, Mees Elf," saluted the dormouse.

"Bonjour," the rat added with a flourish.

Etwas asked, "what's the occasion? It's a very nice table."

The rat answered her. "Wee have an especially fine cuisine we have preparrred. We have zee meat of a bird who, as fate would 'ave eet, 'as bean roasted! Would you, pearhaps care to join?"

The squirrel added "We also have a potato which had come upon misfortune and was buried in milk, butter and salt."

"Und zis, zis, zis souse off red b-b-bahren vich had popped zehr shkinss in shooga." contributed the chipmunk.

"We gatherr to to conseeder dee misfortunas of dee food and geeve ar tahnks."

"Well," said Etwas, that sounds very nice. How did the unfortunate food have the great good luck of finding such an elegant table?"

The rat answered for the group. "Zee purr peopel een zee rotten cabeen wees ze beeg 'oles in zee walls at zee bottom of zee heel, zey nevair 'ave anysing mais yestairday, voila!"

"You stole a poor family's meal?"

"N-n-n-nein," explained the chipmunk, "dey ver prayink. Vee-vee answeredet."

The rat added quickly, "Eet was proviahnce, zee deevahn, zat provided zair meal to us!"

And ever since then, Etwas keeps faith in providence, and stays vigilant around theologians.

Happy Thanksgiving to everyone, especially the poor and the thievish.

Etwas and the peaceful evening

2011-11-23T23:00:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of tall grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when nothing happened at all. It was sunset and the world was at peace with the nocturnal animals waiting for their time to start and the diurnal animals waiting for time to sleep and the warm earth waiting for snow. The wind was still and the trees were quiet and the sun left a dark orange assurance of new days to come.

Etwas sat and silently wondered if her cousin Eamon was about and what kind of trouble they could get into later.

And ever since then, Etwas takes the quiet times when they come and tugs on their tails.

The tale of the elf, the ogre and the tale of the frost giants

2011-11-22T13:57:00.001-08:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she decided to go visit her cousin, Stevie Elfsmoosher, the big, mean, ugly ogre. She turned and jogged up towards the mountains and before she came within miles of his home, she heard the echoes of enormous stones being pounded against other stones. Sure enough, it was Stevie trying to pound slabs of slate into cliffs of basalt.

Stevie was so busy, he didn't even notice that he was under attack by tiny elf until she was sitting on his earlobe. "Howdy, Stevie!" she peeped.

"Oh, hey, Etwas. What are you doing?"

"Sitting on an ogre's ear," the elf answered. "What are you doing?"

"I'm building a library."

"What's a library?"

"Sort of a shelf. You put books on them."

"Oh! What's a book?"

"I think it's a slab of stone with a story in it."

"What's a story?"

"You've never heard a story?" her cousin asked her, incredulously.

"I don't think so."

"They usually start 'once upon a time.' Farmers tell them a lot. Here, I'll tell you the story about the Frost Giants"

The tiny elf clapped her hands and the big, mean, ugly ogre began. "Once upon a time, Iceland was full of frost giants. They were huge creatures, ten times taller than even I am."

"That's tall!"

"That's right! And they were covered in fur- white fur, every hair on them was covered in ice crystals. Their eyes were pale blue and they ate people."

A breeze rose and carried a voice from outside the scope of this story that asked "Like a polar bear?"

But the elf and the ogre ignored the voice. Stevie asked "Have you ever seen a person? They're like bears only arty."

"Sure," Etwas said, glad to feel clued into this arcane discussion. "I've seen lots of people."

"OK, so that's what Frost Giants ate. Anyway, there came in Iceland a Viking King named Grétar who was tired of his children being hors d'oeuvres. Vikings had beem fighting frost giants for centuries until they realized they were simply volunteering for the pot luck.

"But Grétar had a clever idea, He climbed up the glacier Eyarfjälljokull and dug a hole in the top of the mountain beneath."

"Why would you put a well in a glacier?" Etwas asked. People aren't that bright, are they?"

"Not so much," Stevie continued, "but Grétar was pretty smart for a viking, So he dug the hole and then he hollowed out a narwhal's horn and cut a hole in the tip. He put the horn into the hole and told a long story into the heart of the mountain which filled up with hot gas and exploded, making the first volcano.

"The lave melted the ice crystals on the frost giants and with no frost, the giants discovered their fur was actually purple. Embarassed, they left the area. So King Grétar went all over Iceland making volcanoes and, ever since then, Iceland has been a slightly safer place for people as well as for ogres and elves."

And ever since then, Etwas is very careful with stories, lest they shatter the landscape.

The little elf and the great achievement

2011-11-21T00:09:00.001-08:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when a strange creature loomed out from behind a tree. It was a dark animal with hair on its shoulders and its back and its body but a naked face. It's knuckles dragged on the ground and it had a big nose and big chin and it scratched itself all over with its big old feet, disturbing peaceful families of fleas from their harmony with each rough stroke.

"Howdy, Mr., ah, Mister."

The creature answered in a deep, rough voice. "Howdy, Etwas!"

"Whatcha doing, Mr. Mister?"

"Watching you, right now. And talking to you. And thinking of singing you a song about prison, slavery, vagrancy and/or death."

"Hmm," the little Elf considered. "Maybe we can do something else."

"I know a game," the creature offered.

"Yes, sure, let's play your game."

"OK, here's how you play..." the explanations of the rules went on for quite a ways and it seemed to be a sort of race but it ended at a certain time, 3PM so it wasn't at all clear how to win a race when it ends at a certain time. But games don't always have to make sense and slave hymns didn't sound like that much fun so the two started. The little elf and the big monster leaned forward. The animal stuck three gnarled fingers in the air and counted down. "Ready, set, go!" Per the rules, both elf and animal flopped over and took a nap.

When the requisite sheep had been counted, they dragged themselves up and climbed the tree together, stripping bark as they went. When they reached the top, they gathered the bark into ropes and fashioned the ropes into lariats which they threw over the pinnacle of a nearby rock to make a bridge which they walked down. The creature lost his balance more than once but, happily, he had prehensile feet and made it to the rock upside down, where Etwas was waiting for him.

Then they gathered driftwood to make a ladder, tying the crossbars together with the risers using blackberry vines the elf cut with her little knife. The monster got pricklers in his hands, and Etwas snacked on a few berries while the creature groaned and got out of his hands what he could. Then they set the ladder against the side of a mountain and climbed. When they reached the top of the ladder, the pair shrugged and started up the cliff face. Finally, they reached the top. There they made ink from the blackberries in the animal's hand and tip-toed into an eagle's nest to graffiti the eggs. Etwas made an "E" and the animal made a sign too, although Etwas couldn't tell what letters, if any, were used.

They gathered feathers and sticks on the top of the mountain, and the wax from a bee's nest to build artificial wings which they strapped on their arms to fly back home. Etwas flew high until the sun began to melt the wax that held the feathers on the wing, so she flapped towards a cloud which cooled the apparatus and then she circled. The creature, of course, being big and heavy, plummeted straight to earth almost immediately and landed on his head.

When the race ended at 3pm, Etwas had dragged the enormous, unconscious creature back to the starting line and she had to admit, she felt like she'd accomplished a fair bit during the race.

And ever since then, Etwas looks carefully after her babysitters.

The little elf and the titanic tantrum

2011-11-20T08:32:00.001-08:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she realized the world was out of adjustment and took steps to correct it. She normally operated on the micro scale but she had some insights. She jumped onto her mushroom and began a general upbraiding. Rascal rolled his butterfly eyes and backed into a quiet corner of his stall.

She had heard the banshees keening so she kent. She had heard the trolls rumble so she grumbled. She knew how princesses peal so she pelt. She'd heard the wolves baying so she bit and she'd seen farmers haying so she hit. Her remorse washed across the land and took in all the hidden people and every animal and plants and trees and streams and stones.

In that moment, in that land, everyone thought. They thought about all the mistakes they had made and all the choices that had turned out foolish. They remembered when life held promises it no longer offered and they saw their own role in their own disappointments.

And yet, there was hope in the tirade. If the fault was their own, the choices their own, then all the people and plants and trees and streams and stones realized that they could choose better. They chose to choose better. And so the world became more optimistic and Etwas was satisfied with her own screaming.

And ever since then, whenever the hidden people elect a prime minister, Etwas always polls second.

The little elf and the sleepy bear

2011-11-19T15:40:00.001-08:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she can upon a thick, black, hairy tree. It was Etwas' experience that at the top of black, furry trees there was usually a tail to pull and an adventures to go on.

She hopped up the bottom of the tree and shimmied up the middle of the tree and swung from clump of fur to clump of fur when the reached a transverse section of hair tree which is how she came, after a few more challenges and some agile clambering to stand on the ear of a big, dark, yawning bear.

"Howdy, Mr. Bear!" Etwas cried and waved. But the bear just sucked at its own lips and yawned.

"Whatcha doin', Mr. Bear?" This time the bear stretched but finally answered.

"I'm tired."

"Why are you tired?"

Mr. Bear stretched and said "I'm supposed to be hibernating but I keep getting disturbed by elves and whatnot."

"Then why don't you go back to your cave."

"Because the company's better out here."

And ever since then, Etwas will only let sleeping bears lie if they ask.

The elf and the ambitious hippo

2011-11-18T04:30:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she came to the edge of Vatnajökull. She looked to her left and to her right and when she saw that nobody was watching, she opened the little door in the glacier's side that only the hidden people knew about.

Once inside, she carefully closed the portal so that the hinges didn't squeak and the edges were invisible. Then she took the stairs to the slide and the slide down to the underground rainforest. She was just curious if anything was going on.

"A-boo-boo-boo-boo-boo!" she heard and turned. The light of the underground fireflies, reflecting off the glimmer crystals revealed a hippopotamus with its back heels in a steamy water pond and its front paws on the edge.

"Howdy, Mr. Hippo!"

"Hey, Etwas," came the low reply.

"Whatcha doing?"

"Trying to fly. A-boo-boo-boo-boo-boo-boo-boo-boo-boo!" The hippo made his noise by pursing his big lips and blowing. Etwas realized it was the sound of an engine turning over but not quite firing on every cylinder. "I have to get the balance right."

"The balance?"

"Yeah, on land I am too heavy. The water makes me bouyant, but it's no good for aerodynamics, being surrounded in water." He set down his ponderous hind part until the water came just below his tail. "I'm pretty sure if I can just get the right amount of me in the air and the right amount in the water, that I can fly. A-boo-boo-boo-boo-boo-boo! Rats!"

"Well, where would you fly to, Mr. Hippo?"

"Actually, Etwas," the hippo blushed as his deep voice masked the tiny splashes in the water, "I was thinking of coming to see you. I thought we'd play hide-and-go-seek in the grass."

"But I'm right here!" Etwas callled in triumph as she gave his tail an underwater yank.

And ever since then, Etwas never stands in front of a flying hippopotamus, and neither should you.

The elf and the old, grey, jaded goose*

2011-11-17T05:43:00.001-08:00

Once upon a time, Lord lord lord, Etwas the elf was a-running, a-lord lord lord, through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she came upon a grey goose at the edge of the Blue Lagoon, just standing and staring.

"Howdy, Mr. Goose!" quacked Etwas.

"Hmm," honked the goose.

"Why don't you jump in?" the little Elf asked. "Don't you love ponds?"

"Listen heah, Elf. Ah was mindin' my own affai's, oh, 'bout'n twenny-foah weeks back, when a man o' de cloth up'n pulls his huntmassa an filled me fulla lead. Ag was six weeks a-fallin an' six weeks a windin' an' plucked by his missus and parboilt. Ah was six weeks a parboilin' an dey pokes me widda foak, and dey slashes me widda knife an dey th'oes me in de hog pen an they run me t'rough de sawmill an when I finally get away widdit, danged if hea' don't come dis long string o' goslins all quackin' about how'n I's dey daddy.

"So af'n alladat, an' Ah gots de goslins squahed away, Ah comes ovah heah to de blue lagoon fo' some res' an' relaxation an' mebbe some fishin' and dang me but I jes' don' even fills lak swimmin' o' fishin o' doin' mucha a arythang!"

"Do you feel like playing?" the little Elf asked.

"Miss, jus' about de las' thang ah feels lahk wu'd be playin'"

"You sure, Mr. Goose?" Etwas asked and then she plucked one of the tiny quills growing back on the goose's tail and tore off through the underbrush. Well, the old goose took up his temper and dashed after the elf with an outraged honk.

"Lil' E'f!" the goose warned, "Ah kin still eat a fish, an' Ah can still bite a mongoose and see if I doesn't bite you an eat you too!"

"Have to catch me first!" the Elf shrieked and ran around a stand of lupine, green amid the purple but too quick for the tired old goose who hopped and fluttered and darted after her. Etwas dove into a rabbit's hole and the goose stuck his wide beak in to get her but his beak got stuck in the mud and the goose tried to dig his beak back out of the refreshing mud of the Blue Lagoon. He scrambled and bucked and jumped but all he did was get his feathers muddier and muddier. So he scratched and sprinted backwards and sprayed his underside with hot salt.

Etwas ran through the warren, making lunges with the tiny feather. "En garde!" she yelled. "Jeté!" Finally she reached a tunnel that lead to the surface and as she ran out, there was the old goose no longer grey, but white. He was covered in the mud of the lagoon and he was staring at her crossly.

"Jeté!" the little elf shouted and rushed the goose with his own tailfeather. He stuck his beak out and grabbed the little Elf and tossed her in the air. She landed with a "plunk" on his muddy head and they both laughed until they both fell over on their backs.

"Say," pondered the goose, "Do ya reck'n that cloud up yondah looks like a preachah?"

And ever since then, if you ask Etwas the difference between persistence and play, she'll tell you "Dey ain't' none!"

*Today's post is sponsored by the earworm** I woke up with this morning.
**Where you see "zulu1" in the lyrics, the word is "shotgun" and where you see "daddy," Lead Belly usually sang "preacher."***
***I love footnotes.

Programming note: Tomorrow morning, I leave for Iceland. I'm not sure yet if the Etwas stories while I'm with Emma Lynn will go up here or straight into Emma Lynn's ear or straight into Emma Lynn's ear and then here or sometimes one way and sometimes the other, all of which is to say posting might be intermittent or absent until Dec. 1.

The elf and the lengthy artiste, part dos.

2011-11-16T05:11:00.001-08:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she saw her cousin 'Cia looming in the distance. Etwas decided to saddle up her butterfly, Rascal, and go play with her tall cousin.

"Bzzzzzzzz!" Etwas shouted as she flew in front of 'Cia's ear. The tall fairy turned to swat and saw her cousin. "Etwas," she said, "you won't trick me like that again."

"So where are we going?" Etwas wanted to know, and Rascal was getting kind of curious himself.

"I want to climb that tree," 'Cia explained pointing to a rugged pine growing from the side of a high tableland. Then she held up a parchment and a set of watercolor paints and a skin full of water. "I want to climb up there and paint the air. It's never been done!"

So, 'Cia spread her long limbs and fluttered her incandescent little wings, which, to tell you the truth, were to small to fly with and mainly cosmetic, really. She climbed the moutainside with Etwas and rascal flying near her mouth and her ear. The pair traded gossip about the doings among the hidden people until 'Cia, at last, reached the tree.

The long fairy caught the lowest branch and hoisted herself and finally, near the top, tied some branches together to make herself an artist's nest. Etwas settled in 'Cia's hair and carved and folded pine nuts to make herself a crown so that she and Rascal would look like an orchid to eagles flying overhead. And while she made her crown, 'Cia started to paint.

Just then, a storm that had been gathering broke loose. The tree swayed and the threesome bobbed and bounced and barely kept their foundation. 'Cia laughed and held on to the peak of the pine. Etwas laughed and netted herself and her butterfly in 'Cia's long black hair.

The colors 'Cia was using, the dark greens that showed the healthy grasses breathing and the pale blues and grays that showed the sky lifting and falling bled together and smeared themselves until no thing had a boundary and every posed plant was part of every stone and each hill and stream were incorporated into the artist's sky. Etwas had to admit, 'Cia had painted the air.

And ever since then, Etwas and 'Cia begin every landscape with a weather report.

The elf and the lengthy artist.

2011-11-15T02:30:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she ran slam into the waistband of a very tall fairy with long black hair sitting on the edge of a pond.

Etwas recognized the hair and hopped inside the back of the slender woman's pink shirt. Etwas bounced a few times on the waistband and when she had enough momentum, she sprang to where the shirt met the lady's back and the elf pressed herself against the skin and clambered up the netting of the blouse. Her host absent-mindedly swatted at the crawling elf, who kept herself safely against the long spine. Finally, the little elf reached the neckline and tugged her way up the black hair until she leaned over a prominent earlobe.

"Howdy, 'Cia!" the elf told her cousin.

"Oh! Hey, Etwas! Sorry about swatting you. I thought you were a flea."

"It happens," Etwas reassured her famous cousin, the world's tallest fairy. "Whatcha doin'?"

"I'm trying to sketch a fish."

"But this is a magic pond," the little elf explained patiently. "Everything in it is invisible. See?" The Elf dropped her hat into the surface and as the water slipped in over the pointed side, the hat looked like a visor.

"I know that, Etwas," her cousin explained, just as patiently. "I'm trying to sketch an invisible fish. It's never been done."

"Makes sense." The little elf answered and nestled onto 'Cia's shoulder to watch. The charcoal pencil skated back and forth over a bleached hide the fairy was using as her suface. After a while, Etwas hesitated and then observed, "You aren't drawing anything."

"I know," said 'Cia. "The stupid fish won't stand still."

And ever since then, Etwas leaves art to those with artistic temperaments.

Etwas and the itinerant administrator (Etwas und Alles)

2011-11-14T05:57:00.001-08:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she tumbled across the pointy shoes of Alles, the traveling administrator of Elfindom.

"Howdy, Ms. Alles! How's the paper business?" the adventurous little Elf asked the diligent one.

"Hello, Etwas," Alles replied, "Well, let's see." The bureaucrat reached into her sparkly green briefcase and pulled out a file labeled Etwas (Rascal.) "I see." the administrator mumbled as she thumbed through the paperwork, "I see. Uh huh. Hmm. Well. Ah hah. No. Nope. No. No. No, this is unacceptable." Alles stared down her nose at Etwas. "I'm sorry, do you have a moment? Of course you do. You must. We are not lawless elves. Needs must. I'm afraid your passport application is unfinished. You can't frolic without a current passport. No matter, no matter. We'll fix this now. Have a seat." The representative of elfin law sat herself primly under the cap of a mushroom and pulled out of the shiny box she carried a 221-g form, three stamps, a tiny pot of ink and a gosling feather quill. She continued, "Do you have evidence of birth?"

Etwas looked down towards her feet. "Well, I have feet!"

"Do you have documentation you have feet?"

"My shoes!"

"In triplicate?"

"Just duplicate."

"I'm afraid I can't accept that. Documentary evidence of live birth must be in triplicate." The notary sighed and pulled another sheet from her briefcase. "Well, if you are prepared to attest you were born, we can do a 14-Blue B affidavit in a moment. Please list your relatives, elves first."

"My mother is Moni Whirlibird, my cousin, Eamon..." the perplexed but playful elf began. When she had completed her list of elven kin, Alles prompted her to list any non-elves in the family. "Stevie Elfsmoosher, Ogre, cousin; Maximilian Zwerg, Dwarf, Cousin, Payton the Pixie, Pixie, Cousin; Jacob Outdoorvoice, Banshee, cousin; Jessika Newtfeather, witch (good,) cousin, Anja Borealis, Ethereal Whatnot, cousin, Marie Sophie Teufelchen, demonette, cousin; oh, and my father was a bear." With every non-elven identity, Alles winced but dutifully bore up to note the horribly mixed breeding. Before Etwas could finish her list, the administrator stood.

"Well, it's 2:15 and I have to file before I end my day promptly at 5. Elves really ought to be punctual, don't you find? Of course you do. Well, your application is incomplete." The prim elf made a face and emphasized "entirely insufficient. Good day, Etwas, but do come find me a week from Thursday at 2:15. Until your passport has been stamped, I caution you no frolicking, playing, mischief-making or tail yanking under penalty of fines and possible imprisonment in a moosehead fern. Good day, madame."

And ever since then, when completing official forms, Etwas is always careful to dot her I's, cross her T's and thumb her upturned little nose.

The elf and the mystery of the rock

2011-11-13T06:21:00.001-08:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she heard someone say "chunkchunkchunk!"

"Howdy!" the little elf called. "Who's there?"

"Chunkchunkchunk!"

The poem came from around a rock and Etwas ran to the other side but nobody was there.

"Are you a beetle?" she asked.

"Chunkchunkchunk!" Although Etwas was on the opposite side of the rock from where she stood when she first hear the oration, the second verse still came from across the rock. Etwas darted around and saw a bushy, nervous striped tail disappear around the other side.

"Are you a raccoon?"

"Chunkchunkchunk!"

This time, Etwas decided to climb the rock and when she could see over the top, she found little black eyes in a little brown-and-white head looking back.

"Chunkchunkchunk!" the elf cried and overleapt the rock, landing on the back of the chipmunk. The chipmunk leapt up and wound his feet and popping his head back, forth and around and around.

"Must I be mocked at every interaction?" the chipmunk exclaimed. His tiny little paws dropped the tiny book of Poe he had been trying to enjoy.

"Sorry, Mr. Chipmunk. I didn't know you were reading. I thought you might be a squirrel," Etwas apologized gracefully and hopped off the chipmunk's back. Just to show there were no hard feelings, she gave the chipmunk's double-striped tail a gentle jerk.

"Do you wish to hear some verses of Ulalume?"

"OK!" Etwas agreed.

"The skies were ashen and sober;
The leaves were crisped and sere..." Mr. Chipmunk began, with Etwas cuddling his shoulder.

And ever since then, Etwas never judges a book by the rodent reading it.

The elf and the robin's nest

2011-11-12T08:21:00.001-08:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she saw a nest of robin's eggs teetering on a limb. Etwas climbed up and used some twigs and her knife to batten down the incubator. The mother, on her way back from picking some sticks for the same purpose saw the elf protect her young and was very moved.

At the next Parliament of Owls, the robin introduced a motion to honor the little elf who had protected her young. Birds do love to fuss, so Etwas Day was proclaimed and a parade in the little elf's honor was declared and there were oratories, pronouncements, assertions, editorials and dignifications as well.

Etwas the Elf and Eamon the Elf were out playing pop the blueberry when the eaglet ambassador fluttered clumsily down with his scroll. Eamon and Etwas hopped on the eaglet's back and were carried to the aerie to watch the proceedings. A falcon turned in a widening gyre. Magpies crossed the sky with silver coins in their talons and tinsel trailing their flights. A quetzal streaked its long green tail across the sky writing "Til Hamingju!" in the air. Jonathan Livingstone Seagull turned a series of snap rolls. Budgies sang "For Those Who Perish In A Cage" and an owl told the future for strangers in the audience.

The ambassador jumped on his mother's back and waved at the vertical throng in long sweeps. That was when cousin Eamon looked down and said "It's weally faw down deah!" Etwas and Eamon realized they had lost their ride home. The aerie was on a ledge beneath another ledge and there was no safe way down. Rascal was clapping his wings and tapping his feet in rhythm to the vulture band and didn't hear Etwas call.

"Follow me," Etwas suggested to her cousin and she dove from the Aerie and spread her tiny arms, landing briefly on a wren's tail then bouncing up into a somersault and catching the tip of a condor's beak, swinging and falling almost horizontally onto the back of a jay just beginning its dive. She jumped just as the tail started to whistle and perfectly timed her leap to take her onto the back of flapping swallow which yawed over a flapping chicken onto which Etwas leapt. The chicken halted suddenly and the little elf was flung onto the spreading tail of a peacock.

A moment later, Eamon landed on the peacock's tail, two eyes from his cousin. "Wow," Eamon said, "that was hawd." The peacock stopped at a blueberry bush and the two elves alit and started their game over, because both claimed to have forgotten the score (which had been 19 to pi in favor of Etwas, it should be noted.) The carnival continued in Etwas' honor behind, below and above the two elves and there was much merriment until the next day when some turkey had to clean up the feathers.

And ever since then, every year, Etwas enjoys a peaceful game in the bushes and leaves the parade to the birds.

The Elf and the Queen of Voles

2011-11-11T06:14:00.001-08:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when a little vole with a red cape and a wee tiara popped out of a hole in the ground, twitched its nose and put a tiny paw to its furrowed brow.

"Daylight over the hole! O breeze! Sorrow!
Exposed and plain visible! Poor me!
To walk the roof of the world tomorrow
Here today, to find me in prison free!
O, woe, woe, woe, woe, woe, woe, woe is me!"

"Howdy, Ms. Vole!" Etwas greeted with a wave. But the vole's eyes moistened and she lifted her little nose high into the air, changing the tiny left front paw on her brow with its opposite against the bridge of her nose.

"Queen Ahmy Dala, I am known below
Yet here in frost above it isn't so.
The voles forget and the elves- they don't know
To call me 'Our Highness' is naught- O woe!"

"Um, ok, your majesty. Good day to you, I mean, our Highness and whatnot."

The old vole bowed as though pierced from behind.

"That which is day arrives yet overland
The sun rises and darken's my spirit!
In dim and dank caverns, my title grand,
We rejoice who now cries. You might hear it.
Alas, I weep for my hole- yet fear it!" By now both of the voles hands were outstretched away from her shaking trunk, as though tied by taught leathers to trees in opposite forests where owls hunted and foxes preyed.

"Um," offered Etwas, hoping to be helpful, "Your hole is right underneath you. In fact you're standing in it."

A darkness crept into the poor Vole Queen's eyes.

"Forsaken no more, joy!" Queen Dala chirped. "Below! Below!" And she dove back down where she had appeared a few mere laments ago. The elf watched her tail disappear and sighed.

And ever since then, Etwas leaves alone the tails of those who are already dragged.

The elf on a rainy day.

2011-11-10T06:02:00.001-08:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when it began to rain. Then it rained harder. Then it rained the kind of cold, hard, bone-soaking shower that washes the green off of an elf's clothes so she decided to go home and make sure the cap on her mushroom was keeping Rascal dry.

Of course, as soon as she saw the butterfly, Etwas wanted to go for a long ride. But still it rained and rained hard and the elf, who was also a well-studied entomologist, knew that water is no good for a butterfly's wings. So the two stood in the stable and watched the storm. A day like that makes everyone considerate and the pair watched the rocks and the plants outside the stable ponder precipitation and remember glories passed.

The elf and the butterfly stood close together for warmth and, after a while, Etwas went over to her side of the mushroom to grab the deck of cards. "Do you have any knaves?" the elf asked and the butterfly nodded back at her but held all its cards, making Etwas giggle.

The pair stayed restless but the rain stayed thorough and after a while Etwas asked Rascal, "have I ever told you the story of The Elf And The Hungry Cricket?" The pair spent their whole day playing cards and remembering stories.

And ever since then, on most days Etwas does just what she wants and on other days she does what she can.

The elf and the secret to the underworld

2011-11-09T06:57:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she saw some dwarves coming in and out of a mine, singing their dwarvish hymn, If I Had No Shovel, No Pick, No Hammer, Then Mama Would Have Me Adopted. The elf wondered what it would be like to be miner so she found a soft patch of ground beneath a round rock and started to dig with her hands.

She tunneled straight in and level with sea. "Boy, oh boy!" she cried, "This mining is going great." When she was so far back, that the mine started to feel like a castle, she started digging a pit. "I know," she thought, I'll dig for coal!"

Down and down she dug, until her chest was covered in mud and her fingernails were eroded away. Then something hard blocked her. She dug over the hard place and after a while discovered the obstacle was round and three times as wide as she was. But Etwas was a very strong and determined little elf, so she cleaned and brushed and moved mud until she discovered that the hard, dark, wide disk was shiny. Inscribed on the top were two fish. She pried and pulled and cleaned and undermined and finally, she got the coin to stand up.

Underneath the coin, she found the top of a spiral staircase. "Wowie!" she thought.

She rolled the coin down before her as she followed the staircase deep down into the earth. She traveled a very long way until she found herself in a giant cavern, lit by the flickering, erratic red flames of torches. Around the cavern wall were thousands of alcoves that led to thousand of little of little staircases just like the path she had taken. Etwas, one of the smartest elves ever, marked the staircase she had come down with a tiny, Elvish "E."

Downslope from where she stood, Etwas saw it was very misty and deep in the mist was a figure, shuffling away and in the direction it was going she could barely see the bent frame of a man with a pole in its hand. "Hey, Mister!" she shouted. Want a coin?"

The nearer figure turned towards her and held out one hand. In the other it held a lyre. The musician took Etwas' krona and handed it to the bent ferrymen. "Thank you," the ferryman told the musician and the musician told the elf. When the ferryman spoke, it sounded like dried leaves scraping a fallen tree before a storm. When the musician spoke it sounded like angels singing and Etwas danced to the gratitude. Then the musician hopped into the ferryman's boat and the two took off over the river.

Etwas found the staircase she ha descended and then decided to take a different one which brought her into daylight over a rice field surrounded by dwarves in thatched hats.

And ever since then, the Elves have believed that every staircase goes up and every staircase goes down and that's all the geography you need to know.

Etwas and the brittle Democracy

2011-11-08T04:28:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she bumped into a mob of fire ants busy defoliating a stand of sugarcane.

"Howdy, mesdames et messieurs fire ants!" the little Elf offered by way of a greeting.

"Hey hey! Ho ho! Flying bugs have got to go!" the fire ants chanted. Etwas climbed onto a nearby rock to watch the ants work.

The "Occupy Sweetness" movement, the fire ants called themselves, and they clambored tirelessly over the first sugar cane until their combined weight made it bend and finally break.

"I like sugar," the elf admitted to herself.

"Hi! Hi! Sugar tree! How much sugar did you take from me?" the ants chanted.

A swarm of red covered the fallen sugar cane and then evaporated as the satisfied ants returned to their colony for tea. Once the fire ants left and the little elf no longer worried about accidentally trammeling their rights or insect dignity. So she walked over to the fallen cane and saw that none of the ants had noticed the sugar inside. She filled her pockets and skipped along home to share with Rascal.

And ever since then, Etwas always takes time to admire the machinery of democracy as it spins.

Etwas says, if you are an American citizen, like me, then today you should be voting. Heaven knows for what.

Etwas and the ladybug

2011-11-07T06:06:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when a ladybug settled on a potato leaf over the elf's head.

"Hi, Miss Ladybug!" called Etwas. "What are you up to?"

"I'm a-huntin' aphids," growled the ladybug, the cheerful red shell came apart in the middle and fluttered, exposing the tiny, menacing black wings encased within. "They're the leaf-eatingest, garden-beatingest, smelly-feetiest, yellow-meatiest, most diabolical little monsters you ever seen and I cain't'nt stands em alive. Pretty sweet-tasting, though. Must be the good diet. Did you know they're vegan?"

"You know," Etwas confirmed, "the other day I was talking to a cherry tomato and she told me thank heaven for you, Miss Ladybug."

The ladybug squeezed out a tear. "We've always understood each other, the cherry tomato and I. I-I, well I just really like her."

"That's sweet," said Etwas.

"I mean, I get along with all the fruits, really," explained the ladybug. "Got nothing against 'em, so long as they stick to their place. But tomatoes is special. And the aphids what hassle the tomatoes is the aphidiest aphids of them all. You can't just attack fruit! They needs cultivtin'! I'm getting hungry just thinking about it" Again, the bright red casing divided, opened, and an angry little flutter of wings trilled.

"Well, Miss Ladybug, no sense in telling me about it. Go have some justice."

A third time, the happy fire-truck-colored shell opened and the wings beneath rolled. This time, they lifted the ladybug who hovered a moment. Before flying off towards the nearest cherry tomato bush in parts unknown, the aphid-hunter called down to the elf, "See you 'round, Etwas. Nice chat. If you see an aphid, squish him for me!" and the lady bug disappeared and the Elf skipped away towards the blackberry bush.

And ever since then, Etwas has remembered that the sins of a species are the virtues of a variety.

The elf, the horse and the travelling gourmet

2011-11-06T07:22:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when a horse's hoof fell in front of her.

"Hello, Mister Hoof!" The elf jumped up and grabbed the long hair on the fetlock. Back and forth she swung. "Whoooooo-ee!," she yelled. "I'm riding a horse!"

The horse reared up and Etwas was thrust upward like a rocket. The horse drew circles in the air and the elf's cheeks were pulled tight by the centrifugal prancing. Just for fun, she let go on an upswing and flew high into the air, turned at the apogee and dove into the horse's withers. The chestnut horse stood back down and pulled its head up, nestling the equestriennette in warm, salty black hair.

"Why, Etwas!" cried the rider, with delight in her voice. "Did you come to help me celebrate my birthday?"

The elf looked down through the horsehair and saw long, black boots. She pulled aside some horsehair and saw above the boots the hem of a lacy black dress. The little elf wrapped the rest of the horsehair blocking her view into a turban and could see the peerlessly warm and glad smile of her Aunt Anteres, the Good Witch of the South, beaming down at her."

"Hi, Aunteres! Happy birthday! What is that?" Tied to the pommel of the saddle was a tiny crock pot. "Love potion? Clairvoyance concoction? Goat entrail?"

"Gumbo!" answered the witch.

"Oh boy!" yelled Etwas.

"Kiss first!" cautioned her Aunt. "Never take a witch's stew for granted." So Etwas bounded down the horse's neck and on to her auntie's lap where they traded hugs and hopped onto her hand that lifted to the witch's mouth for a birthday buss. Then they shared the okra stew. Uncle Arturo, walking alongside, mumbled that he could eat too.

And ever since then, Elves never judge visitors by their horseshoes.

Happy birthday to Aunt Anteres and Uncle Arturo from Etwas the Elf.

The little elf and the papyrus bush

2011-11-05T08:49:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she came upon a bunch of papyrus. "Oooh whee," she said thinking she had found a tail tree.

She scrambled up a stout stem and began to tug away in every direction. The pollen from the papyrus turned her hat yellow and her shoes looked like they'd been blown over with snow. The pollen filled her shirt until she looked puffed up and green like a contented bullfrog.

Then she took out her knife and cut off a few leaves, making a parasail. She jumped from the top of the clump and soared high over the jade plant that grew below it. She caught a thermal and rose even higher. Now she could see the papyrus from above and now a bird's nest in the pepper tree behind it. Higher and higher she sailed until the elf and her leaves reached the end of the updraft and began to come down.

Faster and faster she went as gravity tugged against the air racing under her sail. "Buh-buh-buh-boom!" she yelled pretending to strafe the papyrus colony but she came in too law and the papyrus returned fire. Tiny seeds peppered the elf as she passed over the top, stinging her pointy ears and clogging her pointy nose.

"Ah-chooooo!" she sneezed. In the spasm she let go of one side of her sail and spun her way down, hurtling all the way to the pond where she struck with a splash. The pond closed over her elfin body and silence replaced elfin giggles and was, in turn, replaced by "shoooooooosh!" as Etwas broke the surface and spat out a mouthful of water and papyrus seed.

And ever since then, the colony of papyrus on the side of that pond has been known as "Etwas' clump" or "Etwas' sneeze" but you and I know it was really Etwas' spout.

The elf and the beetle

2011-11-04T10:04:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she came upon a beetle with a sheaf of grass seed in its mandibles. The elf greeted her carapacious comrade.

"Hi, Mrs. Beetle!'

"Thhhhhwetho, Ethhhhwithh."

"What are you doing?"

"Cawything grthathh in meh moofth!" the frustrated beetle explained.

"For a banquet or a building? For agriculture? I've heard that's how you grow rice."

"Conthtucthun"

"Are you making a nest?"

"Nei. I'thm decathathing un altar."

"Well," suggested the Elf, "I would build the dais out of something you can write on, like an acorn. Your preaching is a little hard to follow."

And ever since then, Elves mainly give advice to the muffled.

The elf and the heart-shaped stone

2011-11-03T06:20:00.001-07:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she found a pretty stone. It was shiny, black and smooth and shaped like a heart.

"A boomerang!" she laughed, picking it up. Holding by the right atrium, she gave it a toss with a snap of her wrist. The stone shimmered through the air and the arc bent but the stone didn't return.

"A tomahawk?" she wondered. She went after the rock and retrieved it. Then she traipsed over to an oak tree and, grabbing the stone at the long end, threw it at the side of the tree with an entirely different snap of the wrist. The stone dented the bark but did not stick.

"A hovercraft!" the elf declared and brought it down to a bay of the pond where she threw it sidearm with a whole other snap of the wrist. The stone skipped merrily, once, twice, a third time and then settled on the opposite bank. Etwas walked around the shore, retrieved her stone and threw it sidearm again with an even quicker version of the previous wrist snap.

Once, twice, three, four times it skipped and leapt up the opposite bank where it knocked a squirrel's tail. The startled squirrel raised it's tail and ran up the nearest tree, barking and twitching.

And ever since then, there is an Elven adage that nothing beautiful is ever useless, at least for recreation.

The elfin holiday

2011-11-02T06:53:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers, in a hurry to arrive at the little glade of cosmos where elves hold holiday. She was carrying a pair of blackberries, two tiny candles and a circle of streamers.

Industriously, she strung the green streamers between the purple propellors of the cosmos. Then she took a drupe from the blackberry and used the juice to write "Eamon the Elf" and "Maximilian Zwerg der Großer," on the underside of the flower petals. She pulled the towel off a plate of crepes she had left for the party and set a candle alongside it for Maximilian. Then she used icing to turn a blackberry into the batmobile and put a candle in the backside for Eamon. She pulled out of her pocket a harmonica she'd made from blades of grass and willow leaves and practiced the Elfin birthday song.

"OK," she said. "Now I just need the birthday boys to get the party started." She took her little knife and dug and dug until she reached the cavern below the cosmo glade.

Shhhhhhhhhhoooooshhhhhhhh! A slide came in from the eastern side of the cavern and Maximilian slid upside-down into view. He reached the end of the slide, flew into the center of the cavern holding a toy pony, tumbled into the air and landed in a mud puddle.

"Waß passiert?," asked the big, curly-haired, muddy-faced dwarf.

"Es tut mir leid," explained Etwas, "aber Ich habe einer kleiner streich gespielen. Ich verließe das Spielzeug über eine Falle. Herzlichen glückwünschen!" She had built an underground slide and baited it with a toy pony to catch her cousin and bring him to the party.

Shhhhhhhhhoooooooshhhhhh! A slide came in from the western side of the cavern and this time it was Etwas' cousin, Eamon, who slid down. He came a little slower and did not tumble or fall into the puddle, but was still pretty caked in mud.

"That was pwetty cool!" Eamon cried. "Foost I found a spidoo-man action figya and den thew was a hole so I jumped down it and you was at the bottom!"

Etwas brought them back up to the surface and played "Happy birthday" on her harmonica while the Ogre, Stevie Elfsmoosher, sang along.

And ever since then, it has been elvish wisdom that some traps don't need bait.

(Happy birthday from Etwas to Eamon and Maximilian)

The elf and brer rabbit

2011-11-01T13:26:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she spotted a rabbit eating the leaves from a wild rose.

"Hi, Brer Rabbit,why eat rose leaves when there is kale and cabbage around?" she asked, bopping him on the head.

"Roses are more poetic," sniffed the bunny. "Besides, cabbage gives me gas."

"Don't the thorns poke you?" the Elf asked.

"That's what makes it romantic!"

Etwas wound her elfin way up a stem and picked some of the hips where the blossoms had been. She tossed each one down in turn and explained, "these are sweet and rich in vitamin C."

"No no," said Brer Rabbit. "Nutrition is the opposite of poetry."

"Hmm," thought Etwas, and then, "wait here." She scampered off and came back with each hand shoved into the little hole at the bottom of a raspberry and one more raspberry over her head like a russian hat. The elf bent over, extended her arms and delivered all three. "These are sweet. For energy!"

"No no," complained the rabbit again, "sugar is no substitute for bunny love. I get my sweetness from other bunnies' eyes."

Frustrated, the elf went away and came back dragging a carrot. She laid it down in front of Brer Rabbit who explained "Sister elf, a carrot is vitamins and calories, but a rabbit lives on dreams." The bunny gathered all of Etwas' harvest into a pile.

Again the elf went away and when she came back, she was carrying a stone which she dropped in the middle of the bunny's pile of food. "No sugar, no vitamins, no fiber and you can use it to serenade the other bunnies by drumming a song with your nose."

"I thought maybe you'd bring a potato," Brer Rabbit sulked.

And ever since then, Etwas the Elf leaves salads for the solitary.

Etwas the Elf and the ghastly gale.

2011-10-31T09:49:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the tall grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall grass when the bright full moon punched a hole through the cloth of clouds that held its light. Wind rose and rattled the dry weeds and far away. In the distance a man or animal keened a high note.

Dry leaves tumbled past the elf and over head, born in the hands of the mysterious stream of air. Muttering was picked up from caves where they had echoed for centuries and carried to Etwas' ear. Only the concussions of falling rocks and hard-swung axes interrupted the history being told through the breeze.

Snow rose atop glaciers and tumbled down into the valley where Etwas stood, sharpening her knife on a blade of grass. The ancient flakes, as dry as if they had never been water settled stealthily in Etwas' hair and clothing or stung at her hands and cheeks.

The blades of grass resonated with the wind and amplified its sounds and cushioning its touch. Soon the leaves were playing a tin amplification of forgotten sounds carried from the distant place where the gale began. She saw two squirrels hide in the roots of an ancient pine and a fox curl inside the hollow for warmth and companionship. Far away, a wolf sang a song of fear. Shadows cowed the tops of trees and animated the roofs of houses, huts and mushrooms.

The pines strummed the same old song the grasses sang, conducted by the furious animal of air. Ancient conspiracies originally whispered boomed from canyon to mountain. The dark tricks of unremembered schemes were retold in the moaning. Religions and ideologies gathered and tumbled through the foreign flow and lifted the hair, fur and feathers of every creature under the wind. Tornadoes were pushed aside.

Etwas held a cranberry up, on open palms over her head. The scarlet fruit rose into the unnumbered fingers of the mysterious wind which took the berry, breathed happily and settled into a still and bright night. Nothing remained of the wind but a message, "trick or treat."

And ever since then, when things get really weird, Etwas listens quietly and watches.

The elf, the witch and the verbose birch

2011-10-30T07:54:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the tall grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when a witch flew overhead on her broom.

"Hi, Aunt Granny!" Etwas called.

"'Ello, Etwas," Granny Weatherwax answered, hovering a few feet off the ground. "I'm off to talk to a tree. Want to come with me?"

"Sure!" Etwas answered and she shimmied up a venus fly trap, tossed a pebble into the bloom so that the hungry flower snapped shut. Then Etwas jumped on top of the sealed bloom and into the straw at the back of the witch's broom. The pair pulled away slowly and the broom rocked and slalomed a few feet to the bottom of a birch tree where they stopped. The elf looked back at the venus fly trap they had just left as the witch creaked and groaned and stepped down.

Granny Weatherwax opened her arms and danced* around the old birch. "Oooo-oo-oo-wee" she sang.

"What does 'Ooo-oo-oo-wee' mean in tree?" Etwas asked the witch.

"Oooo-oo-oo-wee," the witch corrected. "It means 'this is witchcraft, tree.' It is supposed to convince the tree magic is afoot. Trees tend to speak up when magic is afoot. That's why I never use magyick. Makes 'em too long winded. I once pulled out some eyes of newt to count them while walking under an Elm and had to sit through Three Hundred Years: A Dissertation and Treatise on The Natural and Social History Of This Here Yard."

"What makes witches long-winded," Etwas asked curiously.

"Elves," answered Esme. "Elves. Ears. OK, I think my work is done here." She got back on her broom and waved the little Elf back on.

"Did the tree speak?" asked Etwas.

"Not yet. I could tell by her silence she was working on some long, tiresome complaint. No point dancing for that. Basic headology. Hop on and I'll explain."

"Oh, thanks, Aunt Granny. I can walk from here."

And ever since then, elves are cautious around shy witches and verbose trees.

* "Danced," appears here because this is a fairy tale. Were this journalism, this simple verb would be replaced with the more elaborate but accurate "stumbled sidewise in a circle despite apparent sobriety."

The Elf and the Crawling Chaos

2011-10-29T08:04:00.000-07:00

Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she met the crawling chaos, Nyarlathotep, shuffling the other way practicing magic tricks.

"Pick a card, any card," droned the demon from the center of the Earth to the Elf as he lowered a fresh pack to Etwas at the end of a greasy tentacle.

"I'd like the Queen of Hearts, please/"

"Don't tell me what you pick," the dancing malevolence chanted, instructively. With a single boneless, suckered digit he pushed a single card forward and Etwas took a different one.

"I like this game, thanks!" said Etwas and ducked into a briar patch and over to a grassy hillside where she threw the card onto the ground in front of her, jumped onto it and surfed to the bottom of the hill yelling "wheeeeeeeeeeeeee!" When she reached the bottom she pinned the playing card onto a twig with pine needles and sailed back upstream on an oak leaf. The fresh breath of October against her gambler's sail propelled the little Elf and her tiny boat so quickly upstream that at times it seemed she was boating on mist rather than water.

"Was...it...the...four...of...diamonds?" called the infernal magician.

Soon, Etwas, the boat and the playing sail were spinning in the vapors at the bottom of the Seljalandsfoss. The water on the card had softened and the elf gathered diagonal corners in her hands and the force of the mist rising from the fallen stream lifted her high in the air. She pulled the bunches of corner apart and glid back to the crafty monster's shoulder.

"Seven of clubs?" the menace asked.

Etwas looked down at her hands which by now held only tatters.

"I didn't check," the elf admitted.

"Give me your soul."

"What?"

"Can I have your soul?"

"If you're hungry I can get you a blueberry."

"That's not what I had in mind."

Etwas balled up what was left of the playing card and placed it in a mound on the deck of cards and hoisted the partially mulched stack onto Nyarlathotep's copy of the forbidden collection, Necronomicon, by the mad Arab Abdul Alhazred. Then she sprinted back into the weeds to play some more.

"Thanks for the fun!" she called as the frustrated psychophagist's suckered limbs tumbled and shook.

"Drat," muttered the demon. "Eamon!"

And ever since then, whenever Elves deal with the Devil, they keep their hand busy.

The elf and the unconsoled ghost

2011-10-28T07:26:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of tall grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she met a ghost, hovering above a low stump, spectral head slumped onto its chest.

"What's the matter, um, Mr. or Ms. Ghost?" Etwas gently inquired.

"Boo," answered the spirit.

Etwas sat down in the dirt besides the ghost. After a time had gone by, Etwas looked up at and through the ghost. "Nice day, huh?"

"Boo."

Another interval passed before the elf spoke again. "I can't quite tell. Do you have a tail?"

"Boo."

There was another long time that the elf and the ghost sat silently. Finally the ghost rattled and groaned and asked "Doooooo yooooouuu haaaaaave a hooooorse?"

"I have a butterfly," chirped Etwas. "Want to go for a ride?"

"OK." answered the ghost. Etwas came back a little while later on Rascal and the ghost soared along as the trio toured the southern coast and chased a few sheep. And ever since then, Etwas has been as patient with the quiet as she is impatient with the (other) noisy.

Etwas and the motley crew

2011-10-27T06:33:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, on a misty, moonlight nigh, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she knocked over a giant mummy. Helping the monster to its feet, she saw that there was a pirate and a medieval physician standing there silently as well.

"Shivoo me timbaws!" said the pirate.

"Eamon, is that you?" asked Etwas.

"Of coase! Me an' Cousin Jake an' Cousin Payton ow twick-a-tweetin'"

"But, Eamon," explained Etwas patiently, "Halloween isn't for four more days"

"It's true," shrieked the mummy from above.

"I know," Eamon went on, "but the school bawd said we should twick-a-tweet today."

"Eamon," answered his cousin Etwas, "doesn't supervision kind of ruin the fun?"

So the pirate, the mummy and the medieval physician took off their costumes and played kickball with Etwas throughout the dank and eerie night, as the normal old elf, banshee and pixie that they were.

And ever since then, elves are never intimidated by anachronisms.

The elf, the troll and the three billy goats gruff

2011-10-26T07:07:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she came to the edge of a creaky wooden bridge spanning Þjórsá River. She thought maybe she'd dive into the rapids and yank a fish's tail when suddenly, the sound of hooves brought her attention from the raging stream to three billy goats approaching the bridge.

First came Grétar the goat to the edge of the bridge. Just as he started across a deep voice from below the bridge boomed "Grétar, Grétar, Grétar the goat! I'll gobble your hooves and chew on your throat!"

Etwas thought about all the fat salmon swimming back and forth past the troll's foot with no beards and no hooves and considered that he might not be dedicating a full intelligence to the problem.

"Don't eat me!" said Grétar the goat, "I'm bony and hungry and mostly just coat!"

The troll let Grétar pass to fatten up in the fields across the river because he heard the next billy goat, Smári coming and Smári was bigger. Just as Smári the goat set foot on the bridge, the deep voice boomed again. "Smári, Smári, Smári the goat! I'll gobble your beard right down to your throat."

"Don't eat me! Don't eat me! Don't make me your meal. I'll be tender and fat once I've cleared yonder field." So the troll let Smári the goat go by, sensing an investment opportunity. Besides, he could already hear the heavier hoofbeats of Ómar the biggest billy goat on the river.

"Ómar, Ómar, Ómar, eldest of three! I'll dine on your flesh and put your beard in my tea!" called the troll.

"Nasty troll," cried Ómar, "My hooves hurt from walking and my cell phone is gone, I'm in a very bad mood, so, fine, bring it on!" and he lowered his horns and dashed around under the bridge.

"Zoiks!" the troll yelled at a yank on his tail. Caught by surprise, he leapt into the air, slipped on a rock and tumbled over the waterfall as Etwas, holding onto the top of his pants yelled "Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! Splash!"

And ever since then, Etwas the Elf gives a nice jerk on the backside for conflict resolution and mediation and whitewater rafting.

The Elf and The Grasshopper

2011-10-25T06:37:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of tall grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she went bumped right into the belly of a grasshopper.

"Ave Mariiiiiiiiiiii-oof!" sang the grasshopper.

"Hi, Mr. Grasshopper," said Etwas.

"Hello, Etwas," answered the grasshopper and then, tapping his several feet, front legs akimbo and lilting, "Well, hello, Etwas, it's so nice..."

"What are you doing?" The elf gently interrupted.

"Preparing for the winter." Then the grasshopper twanged, "Well, I keep my nose to the flora, work hard every day, might get a little loud on the weekends, after I draw my pay, but..."

"By singing?"

The grasshopper danced and twirled, "I jump down, turn around and pick a bale of cotton!"

Etwas raised an eyebrow and explained, "Mr. Grasshopper, cotton is not food and neither is music. I found a terrific blackberry bush. I can show you!"

But the grasshopper hung his head, looking slightly sad and sang. "I wish a buck was silver, it was back when the country was stro-ong..."

And ever since then, Etwas has figured that those who long for yesterday would just as soon not get up in the morning.

The Elves at The Picnic

2011-10-24T09:34:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of green grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall grass when she saw her cousin, Eamon the Elf, trying to tip over a styrofoam cup.

"Hi, Eamon!" Etwas called cheerfully.

"Hi, Etwas!" Eamon answered. "I'm twying to tip ovah this cup! Will you help me?"

So the two pressed their backs against the side of the cup and both strained against but it was too heavy. Then Eamon suggested they take a running start and they both took ten giant steps up an anthill before careening down and throwing themselves spearlike into the side of the cup. The cup didn't move and the cousins found themselves ajumble on the ground with tiny flecks of white foam in their crushed green hats.

Then Etwas had another idea.

"What's a wevah?" Eamon asked.

Soon, the two were down at the edge of the pond, chopping down a reed with their little knives. When they finally had the reed down, they started rolling it back uphill toward the cup. After a while, the reed seemed to Etwas to get heavier. Panting she asked, "Eamon, does this reed seem to be getting awfully heavy?"

"Not weally." said Eamon, poking his head out the reed.

Finally the two were back at the cup with their lever. Etwas and Eamon dug a little hole under the edge of the cup for the tip of the reed. "Now we just need a fulcrum," Etwas audibly considered. "Eamon, lie down in front of the cup."

Eamon lay down and Etwas, with a mighty heave, lifted the reed over her cousin's back and into the hole. She jumped on top and walked out to the high end where she bounced up and down until, finally, the cup started to move, tipped and fell over. A cascade of golden fluid and several cubes of ice tumbled out of the cup onto the ground.

The two swam around in the sour golden sea and pushed the ice cubes up the anthill and sledded.

"Wook at me!" Eamon giggled. "I"m a clown!" Eamon had found red lipstick on the rim of the cup and wiped it all over his own face. Just then, two enormous lips the exact color of Eamon's clownface appeared in the sky and made a big "O." Eamon and Etwas laughed again.

Then, from another direction, a low and rasping thunder sent ripples across the puddle of gold "Emma Lynn! Did you spill your mother's juice again?"

The pair of elves laughed so hard that orange juice came out of both their noses. Then they ran away for safety's sake.

And ever since then, humans should always dispose of their picnic supplies in the appropriate bin if they don't want to be mocked by elves.

The elf and her found poetry

2011-10-23T07:43:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when a flock of geese flew above her head. "Woo-wee!" Etwas shouted as she held her hands wide and behind her and ran beneath the the flock making her own V.

"I can do better than this," the little Elf thought to herself.

She ran back to her mushroom and around back to the stable she'd carved into the stem. The elf jumped on her butterfly's back. "Up up, Rascal!" she called.

She flew over to the blackberry brush and covered herself and Rascal's tail in sticky black sugar and then flew into the meadow where the cows graze. Soon she was being followed by a trail of emerald flies.

"Now stop! Whoa!" she cried, pulling back on Rascal's antennae.

"Now Right!" pulling only the right antenna.

"Now back!"

Soon, Etwas was flying across the sky at the head of an orange and emerald "E."

And ever since then, the best Elvin letters go by airmail.

The elf and the generous mole

2011-10-22T08:40:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when a mole popped out of the ground in front of her.

"How-dy-do, Miss Mole!" Etwas greeted.

"'Ello, Etwas," Miss Mole replied. "Things are looking up. How are you, today?"

"Hungry," admitted Etwas.

"Well, I 'ave a rutabaga I found in a garden. Would you like to share?"

"What's a rutabaga?" Etwas asked.

The mole disappeared down into the new hole and a big white blob took her place.

"Miss Mole, were you stung by a bee?" the elf asked with sincere concern.

The rutabaga rolled out of the hole and the mole reappeared, with some leaves in her teeth. She popped out and pulled out a purple tuber. "And this is a beet. One sec!" The mole disappeared again and came back dragging a carrot. Then a radish. A head of garlic, a potato, an onion! "Never 'ave better farmers 'arvested so little," the mole explained cryptically.

Etwas took out her little knife and made a salad that the two enjoyed.

And ever since then, it has been conventional wisdom among the elves that while all evil shares a common root, goodness shares many.

Etwas and the lazy day

2011-10-21T06:59:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she arrived at the edge of a creek. She made little boats out of foxtail seeds, put them in the stream and watched them drift away on the current. It was a hot and sunny day and Etwas was ready to spend hours in just this way.

After a while she took a pine needle and set it like a pole in the water. She set three little foxtail canoes behind it, and raised the pole with a flourish letting all three vessels leave at once. The first out of sight was declared grand champion master creekcanoist. Then she left her pole with four foxtail seeds behind it and wandered upstream and released more seeds one by one until the weight of the accumulated pips was enough to bend the starting pole and the gathered armada sailed on in a long single file.

Etwas bent over the stream to contemplate spontaneous organization of feathered seeds and how they imitate the endeavors of man and elf when a trout broke the surface and swallowed her up.

Inside the trout's belly, Etwas was not sure how to escape. She sang "Those In Peril On The Sea" at the top of her lungs and the trout, who had mistaken the foxtail navy for a funeral procession of skeeters and swallowed the series downstream, choked on the seedlings and sneezed away flora and elfin fauna.

Etwas found herself at the head of a plume of trout juice and foxtails, tumbling underwater and out of control. The stream picked up speed and soon she was crashing in the currents and dragged between stones. She gathered up some of the seeds being battered about with her and knitted them together into a mat which she could surf to the surface. She rode the rapids with a "wheeeeeeeee!" before ending up in a stiller, slower stream.

And ever since then, Etwas sings a slow and worshipful hymn whenever she wants something funny to happen.

The Elf and The Turtle

2011-10-20T06:32:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of green grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when a hard rain began to fall. Etwas laughed and ran through the cold and the wet and the mist that rose off the cow pies.

Soon there were streams where there had never been streams and rivers where narrow brooks had babbled and Etwas had many new, wet obstacles between herself and her mushroom. She pirouetted and jetéd the elfin rain dance along a wide and outraged stream.

Finally, a turtle appeared up the bank and the elf went over to meet it.

"Hello, Mr. Turtle!" the Elf called. "Would you be so kind as to offer me a ride on your back across the stream?

"No," answered the Turtle. "You'll yank my tail."

"Why would I yank your tail?" Etwas replied, "when you're helping me get home? Elves are never ungrateful!"

The turtle grumbled a little but finally agreed and Etwas jumped onto the turtle's shell. The turtle set out but soon go caught in a current. He swirled and bobbed and wound up far downstream on the same bank he had left.

"Here," said Etwas, and she placed a reed dangling from the other bank in the turtle's snapping jaw. This time the turtle swam and tugged the reed in his mouth, pulling himself like a ferry across.

"Well done, Mr. Turtle," Etwas offered, "and thank you for bringing me across on your shell."

When they reached the other side, the turtle thought a while and then responded. "How did you get a reed from across the babbling, bobbing, spinning stream?" he asked.

"Oh," Etwas said, "while you were spinning in the stream, I swam across and pulled the reed over."

Another long pause and then, "But if you could swim across why did you need a ride?"

"So I could pull your tail! Ping!" came the answer as Etwas yanked the nubbin that had not yet been pulled inside the shell.

"I can't help it," Etwas explained. "It's my nature."

And ever since then, Elves have expressed gratitude in the same manner they do mischief..

The Elf discovers horticulture

2011-10-19T10:02:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she came up to a sweetpea vine twisting in a giant's garden. She considered the way that tiny things can become gigantic, beautiful things and she climbed up to the first pod, pried it open with her feet and let one pea fall to the ground with a thud.

It took her a few tries to hoist the pea onto her shoulder, but finally she had it and staggered back towards her mushroom. She set the pea on the ground and shimmied up the asparagus that grew into the sky next to her mushroom. From the top she looked around for a nice spot to start a garden.

There was a small stream not far below and one bank faced South towards the noontime sun. She rolled the pea down the hillock and dug a hole until she couldn't see out the top. Then she built stairs in the side of the hole so she could dig it further. Finally, she decided the hole was deep enough so she skipped up to the top of her excavation and rolled the pea in.

She began shoveling dirt on top of the pea when a green flurry landed on her head. "Peasy pudding hot!" screeched a voice from above. Etwas dug a quick little hole beneath her and made her escape from the parrot's talon just in time to see the pea in the bird's beak. Etwas leapt into the parrot's mouth and began pushing the pea out but she couldn't make it budge. So she pulled her way to the other side and shoved the pea backwards toward the parrot's throat. The bird gagged and Etwas used the moment to leap out of the parrot's mouth with her garden.

Upon departure from the avian, Etwas discovered the bird had been flying the whole time and she was high, high above the tree-tops.

"Rascal!" she cried as she and the pea plummeted. "Rascal!" She fell past the top branches of the trees and down towards the ground. She could see the separate mushrooms and the petals of violets and count the blades of grass on a mound just in front of her before her butterfly circled around and caught her. The pea dropped softly into the mud, where even today sweetpeas grow wild.

And ever since then, among the elves, a constant gardener is always a frequent flyer.

Etwas in the cavern of mice

2011-10-18T08:01:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she saw a mouse darting through the weeds and gave chase. The mouse was being followed by a hawk but Etwas was pretty sure it was running from her so she leaned into her sprint.

The mouse disappeared suddenly and Etwas, upon reaching the last place it was seen, found a hole in the ground. She pinched her nostrils and jumped in. Down she fell, three, four, five times her own height and landed on her bottom in moist soil. Looking around she could see nothing so she felt her way along the wall of the cave.

The cave become a tunnel and the tunnel became several. Wherever it branched, the Elf went to the right, her lucky side. Her eyes grew used to the dark and her pupils got very wide and still everything was black until she entered a cavern and in the distance there appeared a constellation of green-lit eyes.

"Hello!" Etwas called.

"Hello!"

"Hello!"

"Hello!"

Etwas giggled.

"Giggle"

"Giggle"

"Giggle"

The array of green eyeballs swirled like a galaxy or an application of gnats. Tiny eyes rose above larger ones and disappeared. The large eyes swept left and right and then disappeared. Soon, all the light had disappeared from the cave.

"Where are you going?" Etwas asked.

"Going"

"Going"

"Going"

She crept forward with hands outstretched to where the jumple of peepers had been. On rare occasions the smallest sets of eyes relit and then furrowed out of view. When Etwas reached the other side of the cave, she found the noses of big, fuzzy mice covered in frightened babies. They were warm and soft and so Etwas leapt into their midst and took a nap.

When she woke up, she was alone in the nest except for a tiny crust of bread that had been left for her.

And ever since then, Etwas has believed that the most nurturing peers echo.

The Elf, The Butterfly and The Geyser

2011-10-17T09:48:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf took her butterfly, Rascal, out for a ride. They flew through the forests of grass, over the canopies of clover and among the leaves of the tall trees. As Etwas and Rascal soared several feet above the earth, Etwas thought it would be fun to go see a geyser. Flying day and night for a week, and stopping several times to ask directions from trolls, ogres and pixies, the pair finally arrived at Strokkur.

They circled around watching the water bubble and burble and rise and fall. They circled closer and closer to the basin when the vapor exploded beneath them. Soon a drenched Etwas and a soaked rascal were flying high in the air and out of control on the plume of the geyser. Rascal's wings were waterlogged and she couldn't fly. Etwas' cheeks had never felt so refreshed. They were pushed higher than either had ever flown before, separated and entirely unaerodynamic. Down they came, Rascal floating down side to side and Etwas grinning through the arc of a steamy nose dive.

Finally, Etwas landed in the curly remaining hair of a balding human spectator and Rascal wafted gently onto his shoulder. The human, who was already a little dandruffy, allowed the pair to dry out on his head and shoulder and even offered them a ride home in his rental car.

And ever since then, Etwas has often observed that the best tourists are family.

The Elves and The Ogre

2011-10-16T05:44:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she came upon her cousin, Eamon the Elf carrying a blueberry on each shoulder, hiking up a rabbit trail.

"Hi, Eamon!" Etwas greeted her cousin and then asked "Where are you going with those blueberries?"

"I'm going to see my bwudda," Eamon answered. Eamon's brother was a big, mean, ugly ogre named Stevie Elfsmoosher.

"Can I come?" Etwas asked.

"Shuah!" Eamon invited. So Etwas carried one of the blueberries and the two went merrily along the rabbit trail until they started to hear the thunder and feel the earth shaking from Stevie Elfsmoosher kicking a soccer ball against the side of a mountain.

"It's bettah to appwoach him fwom upwind, usually," Eamon advised.

Some time passed and then the ogre let out a blood-curdling roar that shook leaves from trees and scared snakes underground. Then he bellowed, "Someone tugged my nether fur
I tell you, whether him or her,
I'll burn my candle in your head
And grind the rest to make my bread."

"Good rhyme!" Etwas praised.

"Stevie's weally smawt!" confirmed Eamon.

"Just as I prepared, to damage do,
I hear Eamon. Is that you?" Stevie grumbled.

"Me and cousin Etwas!" Eamon answered, pointing at the other Elf who was, at that point, dangling from the ogre's stumpy tail. Stevie stuck his fingers around his backside, so that the two elves could each hug one. Then he lifted his kinfolk onto his shoulder. The ogre considered and pouted so sadly that his bottom fangs grew slick with steam his nostrils.

"What's the matter, Stevie?" Etwas asked her cousin.

"Roasted peasant and toast onion,
I kind of thought I'd eat someone."

"How about some chess?" Etwas offered. Stevie destroyed his cousins on his chessboard with as much satisfaction as he'd have found demolishing a stranger.

And ever since then, when Etwas doesn't feel like eating what's in front of her, she plays with her food.

The elf and the duck that flew.

2011-10-15T09:11:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she saw, falling from the sky what might have been the biggest, prettiest unyanked tail she had ever seen. It was downy and white and pointed away from her as though in challenge. Down came the tail, and the duck to which it was attached, and Etwas scrambled to stay underneath.

Finally, Etwas followed the tail to the edge of a pond and watched the tail turn up towards the sky and then follow the rest of the duck down under water. Soon the duck re-emerged into the center of the pond with a fish in its mouth, dangling by its own tail.

"Cheeky!" thought Etwas and then, grimly, "It's on." Etwas dove into the water using, of course, a butterfly stroke, but long before she got near pulling distance of the duck's tail, the bird paddled once or twice and was far away. So Etwas swam to the edge of the pond, under an oak tree and made a boat from a fallen leaf and carved the end of a twig to make a paddle. Off she went into the pond but still the duck was faster.

She rowed herself back to shore, this time beneath a willow tree. With her tiny knife, she cut branches and collected willow leaves and made herself a fast catamaran. She cut through the water like a knife but before she could catch up to the duck, it lifted itself off the water and flew over her head, quacking in triumph before landing across the pond..

So the little Elf rowed itself back to the shore and sat contemplating the elusiveness of a waterfowl's hind quarters when she had another idea. She pulled the oakleaf boat over the top of herself and the willow leaf catamaran and again set out toward the tailfeathers of a duck.

Now, every duck knows that if you don't want to lose a feather you must watch out for elves on catamarans. But whoever fretted an oakleaf rowing a catamaran? Soon Etwas was in among the tailfeathers and gave the softest, whitest one a good jerk.

"Quack!" yelled the duck, no longer in triumph but in surprise and aggravation. She took off high in the sky with the laughing little elf hanging on from the rear. The duck rolled and loop-de-looped before Etwas' boat separated from its downy pier and Etwas dived after it. If you're an elf, willow leaves make great water skis, but poor parachutes. Luckily, she landed in a soft pile of birch leaves and bounced twice.

And ever since then, Etwas has believed that the battle may go to the strong and the race to the swift, but only the subtle will tug a duck's butt.

Etwas and the mouse ball

2011-10-14T07:32:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of tall grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she heard the feet of mice thundering down the meadow towards her. Etwas listened carefully to the drumming and calculated that soon her clearing would be invaded by four or five unpulled tails. "Yee-haw!" she thought to herself.

But the mice, when they finally did arrive, were in no mood for Etwas' games. They dashed around rabidly, digging holes, snapping at daisy-petals and leaping at lightning bugs. Etwas jumped onto the nose of the angriest mouse and observed "you should be playing." She jumped onto the mad mouse's head then onto her back and then fell on her tail and surfed.

"There's no time for that!" peep-growled the biggest mouse. "We have a party in the carnation field in 20 minutes and we need to decorate, build escape routes and herd these darn lightning bugs over the dance floor!"

And ever since then, Etwas only goes to parties where the lighting brings itself.

The elf and the blackberry bush

2011-10-13T09:31:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of tall grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she found herself suddenly in a spiky maze of long vines covered in daggers.

The elf jumped up, grabbing one of the prickles and swinging to the next until her feet were dangling ten times her own height over another weapon-encrusted stem which was at least five times her height above barren ground. She looked up to see where she was going and noticed a dark purple berry made of many shiny seeds growing from the bramble over her head.

With great enthusiasm, Etwas clambored from prickle to bramble until she reached the berry. She pulled off one of the drupe's components and pulled the taut top seed to her mouth and took a bite. Sweet juice filled her mouth and black juice painted her hands and her face and her clothes and even her pointy little shoes were colored like night by the time she'd eaten the whole berry.

Etwas looked down and laughed at her dyed body and then looked to heaven as she burped. She shimmied further up the vine and found another big berry and ate the whole thing. Then another. Soon the day turned to night and Emma Lynn was full of sugar and invisible.

She could not see her hands or her feet or her swollen belly or the way home. She missed a few prickles and wound up dangling more than once over black empty space, with a single handhold or her toes twisted around the vine. By the time she reached solid ground once more she was lost but still full of sugar so she ran in circles until one brought her to familiar territory and she finally fell asleep under her very own mushroom.

In the morning she woke up and jumped up to start a new day of play when she noticed that half her shadow stayed in place where she had slept. Even now, there is a dark image of the little elf under mushroom where the blackberry juice soaked into the ground from her skin and clothes.

And that's how Etwas came to realize that sweetness leaves a stain.

The elf, the millipede and the long red cape.

2011-10-12T12:38:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of tall grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she saw a millipede ambling through the weeds. Etwas ran over and watched the graceful dance of the many coordinated legs. She stuck her pointy shoe in front of the millipede's 72nd right foot (counting from the front) but the millipede didn't trip. Instead, it brushed her ankle with the next three steps and tickled the little elf.

Etwas let the millipede walk past and daydreamed. Finally, the creature went beyond her and the elf played hopscotch in the footprints, jumping and twisting and skipping along to the rear. As they went, the furrow they were in narrowed and the millipede came to a fence of rose thorns that converged to a point. Suddenly, Etwas saw a pointy hat just like her own bobbing near the millipede's head and a long cotton cape appeared at the millipede's neck and unrolled along the length of its body.

The little thorn fence narrowed some more until the thorns were replaced with pennies on either side of the millipede, so close that the cape brushed them with a shoooooooosh shoooooosh shooooosh sound. When Etwas reached the tunnel of pennies she saw that they all gleamed at the height of the millipede's shoulders.

When she reached the other side, Etwas found the cape being rolled up by her cousin, Eamon the Elf.

"Hi there, Eamon!" Etwas yelled with pleasure. "What are you doing?"

Eamon walked back into the tunnel a ways and inspected the partly polished pennies.

"I'm doing my pawt to keep go'd shiny!" her cousin answered.

"But Eamon," said Etwas, "Pennies are made of copper."

"I know," said Eamon, "I'm pwacticing."

And ever since then, whenever Etwas gets trapped in a tunnel of pennies, she thinks about gold.

Etwas and the splinter of candy cane

2011-10-11T04:48:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of tall grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she found a bit of candy cane that had flown from the mouth of some careless, sloppy, intolerable child. The red and white striped sugar splinter was stuck to a blade of grass and with some prying and tearing, Etwas made it her own.

It was long with a sharp point at its top and it made a perfect toy spear. The elf set it over her shoulder and strutted up and down, back and forth in the shade of a sage brush, playing armed guard.

"Who goes there!" she would yell. "Halt!" she would bellow in her high-pitched voice. "Are you talking to me?" she would ask and then strike the air with her sweet weapon.

An ant crawled down a leaf over head and watched Etwas at play. "Hey, elf!" the ant japed, "when you see Santa, tell him this year to make me a whole sugar cube!"

A slug heard the ant and joined the game. "Ahoy, Etwas! When you get to the north pole, see if you can't make me some fertilizer for my garden. I've been a very good gastropod!"

Finally a kitten overhead the jeering and mewled, "Aaaaaand tell Skyr-gobbler to leave a little for other thieves!"

Etwas continued her play proudly, jabbing at her audience and giggling with them but ever since then she's learned to be thoughtful about weapons and cautious with candy.

The elf and the bee

2011-10-10T07:15:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of tall grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she looked up and saw a bumblebee filching pollen from an open peony.

Etwas took off her knapsack and threw it around the peony stem and clambered up in the hope of jumping onto the back of the bumblebee. When she got on top of the big pink bulb, however, the erratic flight path of the bee made the dive almost impossible to time. In fact, she landed pointy shoe over pointy ear three times having missed the bee entirely.

On the fourth try, however, Etwas held on to the tissue of one peony petal which lowered her slowly and she managed to get her knees on either side of the busy bee's back.

"My gosh, you elves are persistent pests!" said the bumblebee.

And ever since then, Etwas the Elf has used flowers for the slow pursuit of difficult targets, just like humans do.

Etwas and the war party

2011-10-09T08:01:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of tall grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she heard a rumbling from underground. Curious, she followed the sound to a cleft in the rocks, about one foot high, out of which a war party of dwarves were running, singing:

"Huff! Death! The Dwarves will e'er live free!
Huff Death! We carve the stone, the man, the tree!
Huff! Huff! No languor knows our zeal!
Huff! Huff! The people are our meal!"

Etwas looked up at the dwarves boots and the axes that swung through the grass. From time to time, she had to jump backwards or forwards so as not to be cloven. She watched the sunshine gleam off the armor and the fury drip from the dwarves long beard. Finally, the hole gave up a litter, carried by four dwarves. There was a lavishly dressed and helmeted dwarf in the litter. Etwas jumped up on the boot of the front-right dwarf and climbed onto his ankle guard which was so smooth and shiny that she slid back onto the boot.

"Wheeeeeee!" Etwas giggled and she slid and landed in a lump.

She climbed back up on the bindings in back and slid back down. "Wheeeeeee!"

Finally, the dwarf in the litter held his hand up and all the dwarf soldiers stopped. "Andakablik! You've got an elf on your shoe!" he announced.

Andakablik, the dwarf, shifted the litter's pole onto his left shoulder, bent down and picked up Etwas in his hand, holding her before the dwarfish diplomat.

The ambassador bellowed, "Elf, you will be our first meal! I will grind your bones for my bread!"

Etwas laughed, "You may be tall, Mr. Dwarf, but I am fast!" and Etwas leapt from the servant's hand onto his chest plate and slid down the shiny metal. "Wheeeeeeee!" she was yelling as she tumbled over and over and dove towards the foxtails.

"Tall, huh?" said the ambassador. And ever since then, the dwarves and the elves have been allies.

The elf, the snail and the bowl of beer.

2011-10-08T10:41:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of tall grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall grass when she came upon a snail crawling between a tomato plant and a bowl. Etwas jumped up on the snail's tail, hopped onto its back and sat down between the antennae.

"Why do you look so confused, Mr. Snail?" Etwas asked.

"There...are...tomato...leaves...to...harvest...but...boy!...the...bowl...smells...yeasty...and...delicious...I...can't..."

Etwas explained that some gardeners put bowls of beer out to trap snails and slugs and other bugs. "I recommend the tomato," she added. "Eat safe!"

The snail nodded slowly and started up the tomato plant while Etwas jumped in the bowl of beer, drank her fill, and got lost heading home. She slept under a haystack mushroom and in the morning got soaked in a sprinkler's spray. Ever since then, Etwas the Elf usually rides home on a butterfly, after a bowl of beer.

The Elf, the Owl, The Mouse, The Can, The Cat and The Tangle of Yarn (Now with termites!)

2011-10-07T09:13:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of tall grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of the tall flowers when she heard a sound. "Ccccow!" said the sound.

Etwas looked around and saw no source of the noise.

"Kkkkki" said the sound.

"Kakamakalooki!" answered Etwas, in the sound's language.

The elf darted around among the foxtails and found a termite mound. Etwas ran a butterfly pattern to the top of the mound, avoiding the snapping mandibles of the termites. Off in the distance she saw an owl struggling to fly, which had been making all the noise.

"Wait for me, Ms. Owl!" Etwas yelled and hurried back down the hill, leaping from termite to termite as she went. In a few minutes she found the owl. It had a mouse in it's talon. Around the mouse and around the talon was some yarn the mouse had been carrying to its nest when its capture had made a tangle of all three. On the ground, the yarn was caught around a gigantic metal cylinder with an open metal top into which the paw of a cat was set insistently.

Etwas loved to help but it seemed she couldn't help everyone. She could cut the yarn with her little dagger but then the mouse would be eaten. She could take the can from the cat, easily the least sympathetic part of the puzzle, but then the mouse would suffer the indignity of carrying cat food to its last banquet. If she climbed the yarn to free the mouse, the owl would be hungry.

Finally the solution dawned on her. She crept up behind the cat and yelled "woof!" and the cat jumped, sticking the paw further into the can of food. Away it ran, pulling the mouse and the owl behind it like a box kite. Soon the cat and her kite hied up the side of a birch tree where the bark scratched the yarn. The whole menagerie stopped at a nest of baby robins. The frayed yarn pulled apart and the owl flew home with a beautiful blue egg, the cat crept off to sulk and the mouse stayed and shared the canned food with Robins.

And ever since then, whenever a problem gets too complicated, Etwas always looks for an extra constituent to consider.

The Elf and the pink snake

2011-10-06T14:02:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of tall grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she saw a small pink snake slithering past her through the turf. "Ahoy, Miss Snake! Come play with me!" Etwas yelled after her.

The snake paid Etwas no mind but continued its slithering so Etwas dashed around a clump of sedge and almost caught up. "Hey! Miss snake! I know a lot of slippery games! Come play with me."

Still the snake continued away so Etwas darted around some cowpeas and leapt onto the snake's back. The snake stopped her side-to-side swishing and began instead some up and down rushing. Etwas hung on and looked up towards the snake's head. She discovered it was not a snake at all she was riding but the tail of a rat.

On the surprised rat charged! Over hummocks and into thistles and through goat's head weeds and under reeds and around a bramble brush. Still Etwas clung on until the exhausted rat lay down panting on the edge of a pond. There Etwas jumped off the tail and picked some of the stickers that had stuck her. She dusted herself off and skipped home.

And ever since then, Etwas the Elf has been cautious with vipers in pastel.

Background and explanation

2011-10-05T17:22:00.000-07:00

In utero and for a couple weeks afterward, Emma Lynn was called Etwas (German for "Something.") Since the day she was born I've made up at least one story per day to tell her about Etwas the Elf. So that she can have a record of past stories once she's old enough to understand what in tarnation I'm barking about and so that my friends can follow along, I thought I'd try blogging the stories here.

The Elf and some proud ants.

2011-10-05T15:13:00.001-07:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of tall grass, under the canopies of clover around the stems of the tall flowers when she came upon an acorn lying in the grass next to the stream from a leaking pipe. She ran around until she found just the right rock and pried the cap off of the acorn, placed it in the stream and made a boat of it. She pushed away from the bank and soon was spinning her way downstream.
After a little while she saw the palisades of a paw print from a dog and so she grabbed a pine needle and poled her way over to the damp paw print. She moored her boat (using the same pine needle) in the claw mark and tried to climb out of the deep toeprint but the wall was slippery and Etwas got herself covered in dark soil before she could reach the top.
When she arrived, she saw a trail of ants carrying pieces of someone's picnic and she snuck up on one and grabbed the tiny bit of salami from its mandibles.
The ant looked at her and, seeing her mud-crusted face, thought she was an ant too.
"What a splendid idea!" the ant shouted. "Guys, let's stand upright!"
All the ants behind, and the ones before all stood up one after the other and toted their meal with the haughty strides of an animal that has learned to walk erect. All the way to the anthill, they discussed the arts while Etwas the Elf ate her lump of salami in the bottom of the dogtrack.
And ever since then, whenever Etwas the Elf meets a line of ants, they all do the wave in a series of courtly bows.

The Elf and the hungry Cricket

2011-10-04T15:11:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of tall grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of the tall flowers when she almost ran smack into a cricket.
"Hello, Mr. Cricket!" she said.
"Chirp chirpety chirp," the cricket replied.
She watched the insect rub his front legs together and decided it looked too much like a diner getting ready for a meal and was a fair bit taller and a lot longer than Etwas, so she decided to occupy his active hands by dealing out a hand of cards. "I de-clare war!" she yelled, giggling and watched as the cricket picked up his cards and together they played until sunset when the cricket hopped away home and Etwas ran back to her mushroom, uneaten.
And ever since then, Etwas the Elf has played cards like her life depended on it instead of playing like her life depended on winning.

Etwas and the rolling script

2011-10-03T15:28:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of tall grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of the tall flowers. She saw something with hard and shiny armor about her own size on the side of a dandelion. She leapt forward hoping whatever it was would have a tail Etwas could pull.

When Etwas jumped around the dandelion, the pill bug was frightened and rolled itself up in a ball. Etwas was already in the air but didn't clear the balled up bug.

Her foot hit it right on the apogee and the inertia transferred from elf to insect. The pill bug started to roll downhill and Etwas back-stepped to stay balanced. The hill steepened and the rolling quickened but Etwas kept her balance and discovered that she could steer the pill bug by running down the left side or the right.

At the bottom of the hill, Etwas steered the bug so that it signed her name in the soft dirt and ever since then, whenever you see a pill bug in a ball, there's usually a little something nearby.