Looking around this wonderful world that we live in, I find so many fascinating things that I want to write about and share with children.  Some are magical, some are simple.  I hope my story Strange Things is a bit of both.

Nibble nibble little mouseskin / Who’s that nibbling at my houseskin?

Mice!  They are everywhere — field mice, house mice. Though mice are cute, they are unwelcome visitors in my house.  I plug holes, set humane traps, spray with natural mouse repellants, scatter bags of mouse-keep-away herbs.  Still the little rodents slip into my warm, cozy house and make mischief.  They run around the house at night gnawing on the walls, chewing boxes in the pantry, wreaking havoc on wires, with their sharp little teeth.

When I saw them sitting in a circle on the rim of my cat’s bowl, sipping cream while my cat lounged nearby watching them with a benevolent smile on his silly cat face, that’s when I knew I had to tell this story.

One night when the lights went out, we were left in the dark, dark house.  My two little sons huddled together and blamed witches, goblins, and ghosts.  I blamed mice.

I lit a candle against the darkness, and dipping my special crow quill pen into a little pot of ink, scribble, scribble, scribble, I sat through the night writing my story, Strange Things.

The next day we learned that a great tree had toppled over in the wind and brought down the power lines.  Not a witch, a goblin, a ghost, nor a mouse had caused the blackout.