Chapter 18 My Water Broke
For the past 2 years, the area where I live has been experiencing a severe drought. The water levels in our local lakes are so low that pleasure boats are sitting in the mud still tied to the docks where they rest. We have a mandatory water conservation plan in effect for the summer months, with everyone refraining from watering their lawns or washing their cars. Everything is dry, dusty, and just plain hot.
You can imagine the distressed look on Legolas' face when Yes Dear had to tell him the hot tub had sprung a leak, and was now empty and could not be refilled. It seems there were one too many cannonballs done in there, and that the check valve to the motor was finally sundered. I wondered about that waterfall sound accompanying the last cannonball of the evening the night before. When the pool guy came to check it out, there was a huge crack in the PVC piping as well. To him it was no surprise the hot tub was as empty as the local lakes.
"You burned up your motor, too," says Mr. Pool Guy. "Good thing it was an older model. About time to replace it anyway. Luckily the manufacturer is running a sale right now."
"Oeh, boey! A sael!" chirps Legolas, visions of a new tub chock full of sparkling water on the way.
"How much is that gonna cost, with the sale and all?" asks a suspicious Yes Dear, who is already adding up the dollar figure he could get if he put the Prance up for sale on eBay to recover his losses.
"Let's see," says Mr. Pool Guy. He produces a little receipt book notepad from his pocket and starts writing in it. A minute or two later, he announces, "Wow, look at that! Only $899.95. That's a real deal on this state of the art equipment!"
"We git aert ekwipmaent tu? Oeh, Boey!" whoops Legolas, now unable to contain his delirium at the thought of a hot tub with art supplies included. Heavens knows what he is thinking of doing with all the paints and brushes his mind is envisioning. He skips off to find Little Pip, delighted to break the news about their new playtoy on the way.
"I'll be in touch," says Yes Dear to Mr. Pool Guy, rolling his eyes at me.
"Don't wait too long," cautions the pool man. "This sale is only good until Friday. It's a deal you don't want to miss!"
As he drives off, Yes Dear sighs and says to me, "Where are we gonna get another $900 to cover a hot tub?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Three days later, Legolas is under the deck, helping Mr. Pool Guy's faithful assistant to install the new undersides of our hot tub. It seems that after Mr. Pool Guy had time to consider it, everything that runs our hot tub had to be replaced except the Fiberglas tub part itself. The $899.95 has escalated into almost $1100 in plastic pipe, metal parts, rubber valves, and chemicals to make everything just right.
"Might as well have installed it in some king's palace," Yes Dear says out loud.
"I think we did, only ours is a Prance," I say, watching Legolas as he crouches in the shade underneath the deck, holding the glue and the wrenches for Mr. Assistant Pool Guy. "Now how are we going to explain to him that we cannot fill it with the drought restrictions?"
Yes Dear looks at me. "We'll fill it," he says, smiling. "Just not all at once."
I love this guy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Within a weeks time we have filled the tub, one or two gallons at a time. The grass in the yard is a little browner, but no one comes this far down the road to see it anyway. Finally, the night arrives when it is full and hot once again.
"No cannonballs!" scolds Yes Dear. "Next time we won't have the money to fix it."
"He's talking to YOU, Legolas," says Little Pip, poking her index finger into his bare chest.
"I herd heem. I hav elf eerz, u noe," retorts the Prance, pushing past her and out the magic sliding door while it is still magically open.
He drapes his 101 Dalmatians towel over the side of the deck railing, and proceeds to the edge of the tub. I watch as he balances precariously on his right foot at the top, dipping his toes on his left foot into the water to test it out. He glances up at me, making eye contact. The unbelievable amount of mischief I see exposed there tells me exactly what he is about to do. Before I can react, he is already airborne.
"BAELLIEFLOEP!!" shouts the Prance.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A week later, the weather forecast includes a strong possibility of afternoon thunderstorms. We gather up all the 5-gallon buckets we have, hoping to catch the runoff to save for watering the tomato plants in the future. Little Pip and Legolas use the time as the wind rises and the thunder booms in the distance to carefully estimate where the most water will come down, and place their respective buckets in the locations of their choice. What was supposed to be a lesson in water conservation and recycling has rapidly turned into a competition.
As the lightning strikes come closer, I make both of them come up under the carport out of harm's way. The wind has really picked up, and I leave them momentarily to double check the weather station for announcements and warnings about the storm. Even though nothing of danger is being indicated, my instincts tell me this is going to be a severe one. After one particularly strong wind gust, I decide outside is not the place to be, even under the relative shelter of our large attached carport.
As I open my mouth to call them both in, the emergency warning horn at the Fire Department in town goes off. Even I can clearly hear it five miles out of the city limits, and I don't have elf ears. Not yet, anyway.
"THE HORN OF GONDOR!!" cries the Prance.
"WHAT DOES THAT MEAN??" hollers Little Pip.
"I kin't remambr. Eethr Boromir iz een trubel, oer it'z tiem fur luench," says the Prance.
"We need to go in," I call to them, trying to maintain a calm demeanor. "Everybody come in and get a kitty and take them to sit in the hallway."
The storm intensifies, then dies down a bit after the rain begins in earnest. No tornado, thank the Lord.
"Kin we goe oudsied noew?" asks Legolas.
Looking outside, I note it is all just rain now. The brunt of the storm has passed. The 5-gallon buckets are sitting with about an inch of rain in them, and water is pouring off the roof in huge sheets.
"Go," I say.
The two of them dart outside, hastily snatching up buckets and running with them to the dripline, trying to catch the runoff. In minutes, the buckets are overflowing.
I quickly pull the recyclable plastics from the huge 55-gallon container that holds them. "Pour your buckets in here!' I encourage, pushing the container out where they can get to it. The whole thing reminds me of a fire bucket brigade as the competition is forgotten and they work together to pour the full buckets into the huge container. In no time at all it is also filled to the brim. Thankfully, the rain is finally starting to die down.
"Woew, dat wuz FUEN!" exclaims the Prance as he heads inside for dry clothes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It only takes a couple of days in the 100-degree weather for the collected rainwater to be gone. Luckily the forecast once again calls for rain, this time in the much-needed form of slow steady showers over a day's time. Little Pip is at school, so Legolas is charged with the task of keeping up with the rain gathering on his own.
He gathers the buckets, this time placing them along the dripline to start instead of having to run around in the rain and see where the best places are. He's got a nice little line of them going across the carport cement.
I am typing on the computer, instant messaging with my friend TreeHugger, so I leave him on his own to work for awhile. I hear the back door open, and he calls to me, "Itz raenin noew!"
"Ok!" I call back. "Is it working?"
"Yaes!" he hollers.
"Do you need help?" I yell.
"Noe!" he says. I hear the screen door close, and it is a good 30 minutes before I hear him again.
"How's it going?" I ask when he appears in the doorway. So far, he's dry, which is a bit of a surprise.
"Itz jest bearly raenin. Kin I uze Leedle Peep'z paeyntz wile I wate?"
"I think that would be all right," I answer, rising from my chair to get the watercolor paints for him. "Do you need paper too, or brushes?"
"Jest a leetle biet of dat paeper dere. Da boex haz da brueshz een it aelredy."
He takes the paints and heads toward the kitchen. Usually the table is already set with the old plastic tablecloth on it, as the two of them use the paints pretty regularly, so I don't feel the need to follow behind him. He knows what to do; he's done it at least a couple of dozen times before.
A few minutes later I hear the back door swing open and shut again. I figure he's gone out to check on the buckets, so I continue with my computer correspondence. TreeHugger is trying to convince me I should write a story to submit to FanFiction.net. I'm trying to convince her I know of nothing to write about, having only read two of Tolkien's books and being new to the whole fan fiction thing.
When he hasn't returned in a good 20 minutes, I figure I should go check to see if he needs help. He usually sings Broadway show tunes while outside, and is especially fond of the ones from CATS, but I swear this latest tune can hear through the open screen of the door sounds a lot like "Just a Gigolo" by David Lee Roth. As I come through the kitchen, I happen to glance out of the kitchen window into the backyard.
He's painting all right. He's dropping gobs of the paint on a paper plate, then going out into the rain and letting the raindrops spatter the paint over the plate in the most interesting patterns. He watches as the drops roll around on the plate, tipping it to get the colors to change to his whims. They curl around each other, sensuously weaving and embracing as they mix and mingle together.
However, the most interesting thing about this picture is not the colors he is using, or the textured medium he has chosen for his palette. It's not the dance he is doing as he designs his motif, nor the song he sings for his inspiration. No, the most interesting thing about this picture he is painting is the fact that he is doing it totally au naturel.
Far be it from me to disturb an artist while he is creating his finest masterpiece. I silently return to my computer.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
About half an hour later I hear him come back inside. I do not move from the computer, wanting to give him his privacy. I sense rather than see him move past the door and into the bathroom, where I soon hear the sounds of water running for the shower.
A little while later, he sneaks behind me in the computer room where I have been checking my e-mail. I have just clicked the link to take me to Fanfiction.net.
He stands behind me, silent as only an elf could be, waiting patiently. After I get through reading a chapter, laughing periodically, I acknowledge that he is there.
"Whut ar u doen?" he asks curiously.
"I am reading fan fiction on the Internet." He has a puzzled look on his face, so I add, "These are stories people have made up about you and your adventures with the Fellowship."
"For example.." I read a little from one of TreeHugger's chapters to him. At the end of the chapter, he wants more, just like a child in a toy store. He asks also me to read the reviews. He is fascinated that there are others out there who read about him, and then write in to tell how they felt about the author's interpretation.
By the time it is time to go pick up Little Pip from school, we have read all kinds of stories. Some stories about Frodo, some about Aragorn, some funny, some sad. I have been careful to stick to the non-slash PG stuff so far. His favorite is still TreeHugger's 'In The Hall Of The Wood Elf King.' "Hoew duz she noe soe muech abot me an Brethil an Tavor?" he asks, totally enthralled.
Suddenly, he gets an evil grin on his face. Some mischievous elven thought has crossed his mind.
"U shuld rite won."
"What?!"
"U shuld rite won. Abot me." His voice deepens and gets a sexy gravely tone to it. "Abot . . . US." He winks suggestively at me, then throws back his head and laughs out loud. "I kin bea me, an u kin bea Maerie Suue!"
"Legolas, people will not believe it."
"Whie noet?" He has become serious. The look on his face is enough for me to see he is seriously considering this.
"Well. . ." I pause, thinking, "mostly because every teenage girl and half the adult women in the world are currently dreaming that you live in THEIR closet, or under their bed."
"Dat iz straenge."
Hmmm, I doubt if any of THEM think so!
"U shuld tael dem da trueth den. Rite abot me."
"But, Legolas," I argue, "This is a fiction site. That means the stories are not true, they are made up of fragments of someone's imagination."
"Den it iz up tu u tu tael dem it iz a truee storee. A. . . whut iz it kalled? A noen-fake storee."
"Non-fiction."
"Tael dem den dat it iz a noen-fikshun storee."
"Yes, but how do I start?"
"Hoew due all storeez staert? Staert frum da beagening. Tael dem hoew u fouend me," he says. He clears his throat loudly and begins, "Oence apon a tiem. . . "
I burst out laughing. "Legolas, that line is an old cliché used for fairy tales!"
"AR U KALLIN ME A FAERIEE?!" We are moving rapidly once again into elven warrior posturing and behavior.
"I didn't call you a fairy. I'm just saying that if it is a non-fiction story, you cannot start it with the same line used to start 90% of every fairy tale ever written. No one would believe it."
"Ohhh. . . . Well, den staert wid hoew it reely haeppnd. Sae 'It ael staertd bekuz. . . . ' Go oen an due it."
And thus was born the story of Legolas and al. We named it "The Unauthorized Biography of Legolas Greenleaf."
And the sun came back out, and the paint soon dried on the paper plates.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Author's notes:
Special thanks to TreeHugger for all of her wonderfully entertaining stories for all of us, young and old alike. You rock, nin-mellon! If you haven't read any of her stories, enter her name after you click (Find) up above there in the purple tool bar. Legolas highly recommends "In the Hall Oh The Wood Elf King' as a start. Me too!
Thank you also to Irena, for letting me "plagiarize" two of the last 3 lines here. Some of you might recognize them. A tiny few will get the real significance. You will know who you are.
I don't think the line about the Horn of Gondor is mine originally, but I have said it so often I can't remember where it came from. If it is yours, thank you for sharing.
And now, what you've REALLY been waiting all this time so patiently for:
LUB LEDDERZ FRUM LEGOLAS:
Seence soe meeny of u waent Worrier Braedz, leat me tale u noew u muest due sumpthang VEARY braev tu ern dem. I beestowd dem uepon al beecuz of her braevrie wid da Paelmatto Bueg, buet moestly beacuz Yeas Deer toeld me abot hoew reely afraeed she iz of dem leedle grean leezrdz.. I em pertie shur she tuched dat leezrd whin she reechd fur my eer, buet if she doeznt waent tu beeleeve dat, I em NOET TAELLIN HER! She wuz vaery braev tu keap her kumpoezur fur az loeng az she deed beafour she buerst. I em soe prawd of her!
Grammar Laedee: U kaen't waelk on ise widout seenkin ethr. Tho it luukz moer like faellin whin u ar trien tu due it. I em trien tu laern ur pone nuembr soe I kin cael u, buet I steel kin't remambr al'z yeat. *HUEGZ* Sea u neckz weak!
CowgirlKK12: Huerrie uep an ketchup! I wuld lub to plae Baerbeez wid u an Leedle Peep. Mebbe u shuld uze dat bues tikit al iz saendin ur muthr?
Arilyn: al sez THANKS! We haed a grate weakend. Hoep u deed tu!
Newmoon: U hav tu ern dose Worrier Braedz. U muest faec ur gratest feerz an due ur baest!
Princess ArWen of sMirkwood: I hav laernd my laesson. I weel nebber puet an eering leezrd on an shoew it tu al agin!
ithinkineedanewname: al iz turrafried of dose leezardz. I dunno if she ez ruennin frum da leezrd, or lukkin tu ketch up wid her kuntroel.
gershwin: Hae! *waevz* I heare dey hav Paelmatto Bueg raecz hear, whur dey paynt oen da buegz like raecekarz! Kuul! Huegz an keesz, an a peenuet budder kup frim my Muusetrakz ise kreem fur u!
leail: whoe sneekz up oen u whin u ar vakuumin? I like tu due peeplz hare!
Estina: Shhh!!Doent tael! An I woent tael ethr!
Undomiel Greenleaf: I hav puet u oen da liest den. Mebbe u shuld bea iwannaBaerbeefurchreestmiss. Dere grate!
loopy4_1: I lub da Braid-y Buench! U ar smaert! Da oenlie soeng wid soal I kin plae oen da peeano iz "Noebuddie nose da trubel I'v sean."
Lady Silence: Iz Sigmund rite? Ar u fleertin wid me?
the_ringspell: woah-u soend az baed az al! Yeas Deer sed she uzed tu loek hersef an Leedle Peep en da bafruum an pud toewlz uender da doar if a leezrd got een da houese.
Stimpy: I em muech bedder at seenging dan plaen da peeano. I em geddin bedder wid da haendballz at chuerch tu.
The Two Princesses: Hae laedeez! *bleenkz* My seestr Laerlend doeznt hav ani maenerz. Woew! A leezrd wid a brite blu tung! al wuld noet like dat! Buet M! Dat leedle mowse iz soe soeft an fuezie; u wuld rathr hav a speidr? Woew! I em glaed u suervivd doze spiedr bietz-dey ar meen bueggrz!
Isilwen: U liestd my storee az ur faevurit! I em soe haeppie! Wuz dis ur vaerie furst reevew? *daencz* Hear iz a spaecial hueg an kees jest fu u! *HUEG* *KEESZ*
Sake: I em glaed u ar bak! al rote my nuembr oen a kard dat I taek wid me eberywhur I goe, soe if she gitz loest agin I kin fiend her. I jest git all da nuembrz all meexd up whin I trie tu remambr it misef.
Phoenix Flight: I em glaed u ar steel reedin my storee. Soen all my fraindz weel be warin worrier braidez!
SarWolf Snape: Hae! *waevz* I em eggsited I weel git tu sea my fraendz suun. We hav an empoartent meeshun tu caerie out. *huegs*
Skye Rocket: Deed u sae dat ebery tiem?? Sae it agin. I lub it! Sae it agin! *sheevrz* OOoo, sae it agin!
laure: I deed noet hep al wid her feerz at all. She iz beayon my hep. I wuld rathr throe da Ring entu Mordor misef dan deel wid dat. She iz vaery braev wid doez Paelmatto Buegz doe! *sheevrz*
Elven Princess Gwenedh: Hearz won! *HUEG* Hoew abot a kees tu? *KEES*
Elise: Ur poar muthr! al is vaery afraed of da thangz. Giev her dis hueg frum me. *huegz* I em glaed u liked my storee!
Michelle: *smielz* U puet me oen ur faevoratez liest! Thaenk u! *huegz*
Lily Frost: Maepl kaendie! MMmmm! *waevz tu kuet leedle raet* Whut eez itz naem?
Magical Rachel: we hav Graendaeddie loeng laegz, buet dey due noet hav weengz an kan't flie. Leedle Peep duz NOET like doze. I hav soe meeny wundrful fraendz! I saew Orlando's hare-he haz bean spaendin tu muech tiem luukin at pikshurz of Araporn, I thank. *huegz an keesez u!*
Nancing Elf: Noew u kin saeng da Jeegaloe soeng an thank of me! MMmmm, u shur ar waerm sleapin en my laep like dat. . . *petz NE*
Puter Patty: al sez THAENKZ, PP! Com vizit me an we weel ketch sum Paelmatto Buegz an den paynt nuembrz oen dem an maek a trak an raec dem! al sez dat da read thang oen da leezrd iz heez wae of atraktin a maet. Jest da maelz due dat thang. I hav goet sum read bokzers, an sumtiemz whin I ware dem I like tu boence aron. . . *swuunz* She kald me Sweat Cheakz!
TreeHugger: DEED U FIEND IT WAE DOEWN HEAR?? *geeglz* I noe whut Elu iz afraed of! I weel neber tael! al duez vakum, buet moestlee oenly whin da Grammar Laedee iz comin! BRETHIL! HAE!! I mees u! I neber paenikd! I doen't noe whut u ar taelking abot. *BOO, LEGOLAS!* *WAAAHHAAAAA!!!!!* Stoep dat, al! It muest bea tu koeld fur Laegpidgenmel noew. He haz bean goen awile. I liked ur won puragraf reevew. Now SHUT UP, BRETHIL!
JastaElf: Come on, Legolas, get up! You're gonna hurt yourself sliding out of the chair like that. If everybody could see you now, they'd know exactly how I got you into my bookbag. It's like pouring pancake batter! *draegz sef eentu chaer* Hae Ada! Hae Jaesta! *luukz at reevew* She kaeld me Huniebuen of Lub!!! *squeelz and skwozes oentu floar agin* LEGOLAS!! *al drags Legolas back into the chair, pats his forehead with a cold washcloth* Come on, now. You can do it. Okae, I remambr Ada'z weegleez, but Dol Guldur an Elrond? O.O
Dang it Jasta, there he goes again! He can't keep doing this, we're on a really tight schedule here!
One more week to TTT, and I have more stories to tell, that's right, STORIESSSS! Review quick so you can have a personal love letter from Legolas, displayed here for the whole world to read. Next chapter in 2 days!
WATE!! WATE!! IRENA, Amin mela vys, Amin anta vys, WHUR AR U??????
For the past 2 years, the area where I live has been experiencing a severe drought. The water levels in our local lakes are so low that pleasure boats are sitting in the mud still tied to the docks where they rest. We have a mandatory water conservation plan in effect for the summer months, with everyone refraining from watering their lawns or washing their cars. Everything is dry, dusty, and just plain hot.
You can imagine the distressed look on Legolas' face when Yes Dear had to tell him the hot tub had sprung a leak, and was now empty and could not be refilled. It seems there were one too many cannonballs done in there, and that the check valve to the motor was finally sundered. I wondered about that waterfall sound accompanying the last cannonball of the evening the night before. When the pool guy came to check it out, there was a huge crack in the PVC piping as well. To him it was no surprise the hot tub was as empty as the local lakes.
"You burned up your motor, too," says Mr. Pool Guy. "Good thing it was an older model. About time to replace it anyway. Luckily the manufacturer is running a sale right now."
"Oeh, boey! A sael!" chirps Legolas, visions of a new tub chock full of sparkling water on the way.
"How much is that gonna cost, with the sale and all?" asks a suspicious Yes Dear, who is already adding up the dollar figure he could get if he put the Prance up for sale on eBay to recover his losses.
"Let's see," says Mr. Pool Guy. He produces a little receipt book notepad from his pocket and starts writing in it. A minute or two later, he announces, "Wow, look at that! Only $899.95. That's a real deal on this state of the art equipment!"
"We git aert ekwipmaent tu? Oeh, Boey!" whoops Legolas, now unable to contain his delirium at the thought of a hot tub with art supplies included. Heavens knows what he is thinking of doing with all the paints and brushes his mind is envisioning. He skips off to find Little Pip, delighted to break the news about their new playtoy on the way.
"I'll be in touch," says Yes Dear to Mr. Pool Guy, rolling his eyes at me.
"Don't wait too long," cautions the pool man. "This sale is only good until Friday. It's a deal you don't want to miss!"
As he drives off, Yes Dear sighs and says to me, "Where are we gonna get another $900 to cover a hot tub?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Three days later, Legolas is under the deck, helping Mr. Pool Guy's faithful assistant to install the new undersides of our hot tub. It seems that after Mr. Pool Guy had time to consider it, everything that runs our hot tub had to be replaced except the Fiberglas tub part itself. The $899.95 has escalated into almost $1100 in plastic pipe, metal parts, rubber valves, and chemicals to make everything just right.
"Might as well have installed it in some king's palace," Yes Dear says out loud.
"I think we did, only ours is a Prance," I say, watching Legolas as he crouches in the shade underneath the deck, holding the glue and the wrenches for Mr. Assistant Pool Guy. "Now how are we going to explain to him that we cannot fill it with the drought restrictions?"
Yes Dear looks at me. "We'll fill it," he says, smiling. "Just not all at once."
I love this guy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Within a weeks time we have filled the tub, one or two gallons at a time. The grass in the yard is a little browner, but no one comes this far down the road to see it anyway. Finally, the night arrives when it is full and hot once again.
"No cannonballs!" scolds Yes Dear. "Next time we won't have the money to fix it."
"He's talking to YOU, Legolas," says Little Pip, poking her index finger into his bare chest.
"I herd heem. I hav elf eerz, u noe," retorts the Prance, pushing past her and out the magic sliding door while it is still magically open.
He drapes his 101 Dalmatians towel over the side of the deck railing, and proceeds to the edge of the tub. I watch as he balances precariously on his right foot at the top, dipping his toes on his left foot into the water to test it out. He glances up at me, making eye contact. The unbelievable amount of mischief I see exposed there tells me exactly what he is about to do. Before I can react, he is already airborne.
"BAELLIEFLOEP!!" shouts the Prance.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A week later, the weather forecast includes a strong possibility of afternoon thunderstorms. We gather up all the 5-gallon buckets we have, hoping to catch the runoff to save for watering the tomato plants in the future. Little Pip and Legolas use the time as the wind rises and the thunder booms in the distance to carefully estimate where the most water will come down, and place their respective buckets in the locations of their choice. What was supposed to be a lesson in water conservation and recycling has rapidly turned into a competition.
As the lightning strikes come closer, I make both of them come up under the carport out of harm's way. The wind has really picked up, and I leave them momentarily to double check the weather station for announcements and warnings about the storm. Even though nothing of danger is being indicated, my instincts tell me this is going to be a severe one. After one particularly strong wind gust, I decide outside is not the place to be, even under the relative shelter of our large attached carport.
As I open my mouth to call them both in, the emergency warning horn at the Fire Department in town goes off. Even I can clearly hear it five miles out of the city limits, and I don't have elf ears. Not yet, anyway.
"THE HORN OF GONDOR!!" cries the Prance.
"WHAT DOES THAT MEAN??" hollers Little Pip.
"I kin't remambr. Eethr Boromir iz een trubel, oer it'z tiem fur luench," says the Prance.
"We need to go in," I call to them, trying to maintain a calm demeanor. "Everybody come in and get a kitty and take them to sit in the hallway."
The storm intensifies, then dies down a bit after the rain begins in earnest. No tornado, thank the Lord.
"Kin we goe oudsied noew?" asks Legolas.
Looking outside, I note it is all just rain now. The brunt of the storm has passed. The 5-gallon buckets are sitting with about an inch of rain in them, and water is pouring off the roof in huge sheets.
"Go," I say.
The two of them dart outside, hastily snatching up buckets and running with them to the dripline, trying to catch the runoff. In minutes, the buckets are overflowing.
I quickly pull the recyclable plastics from the huge 55-gallon container that holds them. "Pour your buckets in here!' I encourage, pushing the container out where they can get to it. The whole thing reminds me of a fire bucket brigade as the competition is forgotten and they work together to pour the full buckets into the huge container. In no time at all it is also filled to the brim. Thankfully, the rain is finally starting to die down.
"Woew, dat wuz FUEN!" exclaims the Prance as he heads inside for dry clothes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It only takes a couple of days in the 100-degree weather for the collected rainwater to be gone. Luckily the forecast once again calls for rain, this time in the much-needed form of slow steady showers over a day's time. Little Pip is at school, so Legolas is charged with the task of keeping up with the rain gathering on his own.
He gathers the buckets, this time placing them along the dripline to start instead of having to run around in the rain and see where the best places are. He's got a nice little line of them going across the carport cement.
I am typing on the computer, instant messaging with my friend TreeHugger, so I leave him on his own to work for awhile. I hear the back door open, and he calls to me, "Itz raenin noew!"
"Ok!" I call back. "Is it working?"
"Yaes!" he hollers.
"Do you need help?" I yell.
"Noe!" he says. I hear the screen door close, and it is a good 30 minutes before I hear him again.
"How's it going?" I ask when he appears in the doorway. So far, he's dry, which is a bit of a surprise.
"Itz jest bearly raenin. Kin I uze Leedle Peep'z paeyntz wile I wate?"
"I think that would be all right," I answer, rising from my chair to get the watercolor paints for him. "Do you need paper too, or brushes?"
"Jest a leetle biet of dat paeper dere. Da boex haz da brueshz een it aelredy."
He takes the paints and heads toward the kitchen. Usually the table is already set with the old plastic tablecloth on it, as the two of them use the paints pretty regularly, so I don't feel the need to follow behind him. He knows what to do; he's done it at least a couple of dozen times before.
A few minutes later I hear the back door swing open and shut again. I figure he's gone out to check on the buckets, so I continue with my computer correspondence. TreeHugger is trying to convince me I should write a story to submit to FanFiction.net. I'm trying to convince her I know of nothing to write about, having only read two of Tolkien's books and being new to the whole fan fiction thing.
When he hasn't returned in a good 20 minutes, I figure I should go check to see if he needs help. He usually sings Broadway show tunes while outside, and is especially fond of the ones from CATS, but I swear this latest tune can hear through the open screen of the door sounds a lot like "Just a Gigolo" by David Lee Roth. As I come through the kitchen, I happen to glance out of the kitchen window into the backyard.
He's painting all right. He's dropping gobs of the paint on a paper plate, then going out into the rain and letting the raindrops spatter the paint over the plate in the most interesting patterns. He watches as the drops roll around on the plate, tipping it to get the colors to change to his whims. They curl around each other, sensuously weaving and embracing as they mix and mingle together.
However, the most interesting thing about this picture is not the colors he is using, or the textured medium he has chosen for his palette. It's not the dance he is doing as he designs his motif, nor the song he sings for his inspiration. No, the most interesting thing about this picture he is painting is the fact that he is doing it totally au naturel.
Far be it from me to disturb an artist while he is creating his finest masterpiece. I silently return to my computer.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
About half an hour later I hear him come back inside. I do not move from the computer, wanting to give him his privacy. I sense rather than see him move past the door and into the bathroom, where I soon hear the sounds of water running for the shower.
A little while later, he sneaks behind me in the computer room where I have been checking my e-mail. I have just clicked the link to take me to Fanfiction.net.
He stands behind me, silent as only an elf could be, waiting patiently. After I get through reading a chapter, laughing periodically, I acknowledge that he is there.
"Whut ar u doen?" he asks curiously.
"I am reading fan fiction on the Internet." He has a puzzled look on his face, so I add, "These are stories people have made up about you and your adventures with the Fellowship."
"For example.." I read a little from one of TreeHugger's chapters to him. At the end of the chapter, he wants more, just like a child in a toy store. He asks also me to read the reviews. He is fascinated that there are others out there who read about him, and then write in to tell how they felt about the author's interpretation.
By the time it is time to go pick up Little Pip from school, we have read all kinds of stories. Some stories about Frodo, some about Aragorn, some funny, some sad. I have been careful to stick to the non-slash PG stuff so far. His favorite is still TreeHugger's 'In The Hall Of The Wood Elf King.' "Hoew duz she noe soe muech abot me an Brethil an Tavor?" he asks, totally enthralled.
Suddenly, he gets an evil grin on his face. Some mischievous elven thought has crossed his mind.
"U shuld rite won."
"What?!"
"U shuld rite won. Abot me." His voice deepens and gets a sexy gravely tone to it. "Abot . . . US." He winks suggestively at me, then throws back his head and laughs out loud. "I kin bea me, an u kin bea Maerie Suue!"
"Legolas, people will not believe it."
"Whie noet?" He has become serious. The look on his face is enough for me to see he is seriously considering this.
"Well. . ." I pause, thinking, "mostly because every teenage girl and half the adult women in the world are currently dreaming that you live in THEIR closet, or under their bed."
"Dat iz straenge."
Hmmm, I doubt if any of THEM think so!
"U shuld tael dem da trueth den. Rite abot me."
"But, Legolas," I argue, "This is a fiction site. That means the stories are not true, they are made up of fragments of someone's imagination."
"Den it iz up tu u tu tael dem it iz a truee storee. A. . . whut iz it kalled? A noen-fake storee."
"Non-fiction."
"Tael dem den dat it iz a noen-fikshun storee."
"Yes, but how do I start?"
"Hoew due all storeez staert? Staert frum da beagening. Tael dem hoew u fouend me," he says. He clears his throat loudly and begins, "Oence apon a tiem. . . "
I burst out laughing. "Legolas, that line is an old cliché used for fairy tales!"
"AR U KALLIN ME A FAERIEE?!" We are moving rapidly once again into elven warrior posturing and behavior.
"I didn't call you a fairy. I'm just saying that if it is a non-fiction story, you cannot start it with the same line used to start 90% of every fairy tale ever written. No one would believe it."
"Ohhh. . . . Well, den staert wid hoew it reely haeppnd. Sae 'It ael staertd bekuz. . . . ' Go oen an due it."
And thus was born the story of Legolas and al. We named it "The Unauthorized Biography of Legolas Greenleaf."
And the sun came back out, and the paint soon dried on the paper plates.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Author's notes:
Special thanks to TreeHugger for all of her wonderfully entertaining stories for all of us, young and old alike. You rock, nin-mellon! If you haven't read any of her stories, enter her name after you click (Find) up above there in the purple tool bar. Legolas highly recommends "In the Hall Oh The Wood Elf King' as a start. Me too!
Thank you also to Irena, for letting me "plagiarize" two of the last 3 lines here. Some of you might recognize them. A tiny few will get the real significance. You will know who you are.
I don't think the line about the Horn of Gondor is mine originally, but I have said it so often I can't remember where it came from. If it is yours, thank you for sharing.
And now, what you've REALLY been waiting all this time so patiently for:
LUB LEDDERZ FRUM LEGOLAS:
Seence soe meeny of u waent Worrier Braedz, leat me tale u noew u muest due sumpthang VEARY braev tu ern dem. I beestowd dem uepon al beecuz of her braevrie wid da Paelmatto Bueg, buet moestly beacuz Yeas Deer toeld me abot hoew reely afraeed she iz of dem leedle grean leezrdz.. I em pertie shur she tuched dat leezrd whin she reechd fur my eer, buet if she doeznt waent tu beeleeve dat, I em NOET TAELLIN HER! She wuz vaery braev tu keap her kumpoezur fur az loeng az she deed beafour she buerst. I em soe prawd of her!
Grammar Laedee: U kaen't waelk on ise widout seenkin ethr. Tho it luukz moer like faellin whin u ar trien tu due it. I em trien tu laern ur pone nuembr soe I kin cael u, buet I steel kin't remambr al'z yeat. *HUEGZ* Sea u neckz weak!
CowgirlKK12: Huerrie uep an ketchup! I wuld lub to plae Baerbeez wid u an Leedle Peep. Mebbe u shuld uze dat bues tikit al iz saendin ur muthr?
Arilyn: al sez THANKS! We haed a grate weakend. Hoep u deed tu!
Newmoon: U hav tu ern dose Worrier Braedz. U muest faec ur gratest feerz an due ur baest!
Princess ArWen of sMirkwood: I hav laernd my laesson. I weel nebber puet an eering leezrd on an shoew it tu al agin!
ithinkineedanewname: al iz turrafried of dose leezardz. I dunno if she ez ruennin frum da leezrd, or lukkin tu ketch up wid her kuntroel.
gershwin: Hae! *waevz* I heare dey hav Paelmatto Bueg raecz hear, whur dey paynt oen da buegz like raecekarz! Kuul! Huegz an keesz, an a peenuet budder kup frim my Muusetrakz ise kreem fur u!
leail: whoe sneekz up oen u whin u ar vakuumin? I like tu due peeplz hare!
Estina: Shhh!!Doent tael! An I woent tael ethr!
Undomiel Greenleaf: I hav puet u oen da liest den. Mebbe u shuld bea iwannaBaerbeefurchreestmiss. Dere grate!
loopy4_1: I lub da Braid-y Buench! U ar smaert! Da oenlie soeng wid soal I kin plae oen da peeano iz "Noebuddie nose da trubel I'v sean."
Lady Silence: Iz Sigmund rite? Ar u fleertin wid me?
the_ringspell: woah-u soend az baed az al! Yeas Deer sed she uzed tu loek hersef an Leedle Peep en da bafruum an pud toewlz uender da doar if a leezrd got een da houese.
Stimpy: I em muech bedder at seenging dan plaen da peeano. I em geddin bedder wid da haendballz at chuerch tu.
The Two Princesses: Hae laedeez! *bleenkz* My seestr Laerlend doeznt hav ani maenerz. Woew! A leezrd wid a brite blu tung! al wuld noet like dat! Buet M! Dat leedle mowse iz soe soeft an fuezie; u wuld rathr hav a speidr? Woew! I em glaed u suervivd doze spiedr bietz-dey ar meen bueggrz!
Isilwen: U liestd my storee az ur faevurit! I em soe haeppie! Wuz dis ur vaerie furst reevew? *daencz* Hear iz a spaecial hueg an kees jest fu u! *HUEG* *KEESZ*
Sake: I em glaed u ar bak! al rote my nuembr oen a kard dat I taek wid me eberywhur I goe, soe if she gitz loest agin I kin fiend her. I jest git all da nuembrz all meexd up whin I trie tu remambr it misef.
Phoenix Flight: I em glaed u ar steel reedin my storee. Soen all my fraindz weel be warin worrier braidez!
SarWolf Snape: Hae! *waevz* I em eggsited I weel git tu sea my fraendz suun. We hav an empoartent meeshun tu caerie out. *huegs*
Skye Rocket: Deed u sae dat ebery tiem?? Sae it agin. I lub it! Sae it agin! *sheevrz* OOoo, sae it agin!
laure: I deed noet hep al wid her feerz at all. She iz beayon my hep. I wuld rathr throe da Ring entu Mordor misef dan deel wid dat. She iz vaery braev wid doez Paelmatto Buegz doe! *sheevrz*
Elven Princess Gwenedh: Hearz won! *HUEG* Hoew abot a kees tu? *KEES*
Elise: Ur poar muthr! al is vaery afraed of da thangz. Giev her dis hueg frum me. *huegz* I em glaed u liked my storee!
Michelle: *smielz* U puet me oen ur faevoratez liest! Thaenk u! *huegz*
Lily Frost: Maepl kaendie! MMmmm! *waevz tu kuet leedle raet* Whut eez itz naem?
Magical Rachel: we hav Graendaeddie loeng laegz, buet dey due noet hav weengz an kan't flie. Leedle Peep duz NOET like doze. I hav soe meeny wundrful fraendz! I saew Orlando's hare-he haz bean spaendin tu muech tiem luukin at pikshurz of Araporn, I thank. *huegz an keesez u!*
Nancing Elf: Noew u kin saeng da Jeegaloe soeng an thank of me! MMmmm, u shur ar waerm sleapin en my laep like dat. . . *petz NE*
Puter Patty: al sez THAENKZ, PP! Com vizit me an we weel ketch sum Paelmatto Buegz an den paynt nuembrz oen dem an maek a trak an raec dem! al sez dat da read thang oen da leezrd iz heez wae of atraktin a maet. Jest da maelz due dat thang. I hav goet sum read bokzers, an sumtiemz whin I ware dem I like tu boence aron. . . *swuunz* She kald me Sweat Cheakz!
TreeHugger: DEED U FIEND IT WAE DOEWN HEAR?? *geeglz* I noe whut Elu iz afraed of! I weel neber tael! al duez vakum, buet moestlee oenly whin da Grammar Laedee iz comin! BRETHIL! HAE!! I mees u! I neber paenikd! I doen't noe whut u ar taelking abot. *BOO, LEGOLAS!* *WAAAHHAAAAA!!!!!* Stoep dat, al! It muest bea tu koeld fur Laegpidgenmel noew. He haz bean goen awile. I liked ur won puragraf reevew. Now SHUT UP, BRETHIL!
JastaElf: Come on, Legolas, get up! You're gonna hurt yourself sliding out of the chair like that. If everybody could see you now, they'd know exactly how I got you into my bookbag. It's like pouring pancake batter! *draegz sef eentu chaer* Hae Ada! Hae Jaesta! *luukz at reevew* She kaeld me Huniebuen of Lub!!! *squeelz and skwozes oentu floar agin* LEGOLAS!! *al drags Legolas back into the chair, pats his forehead with a cold washcloth* Come on, now. You can do it. Okae, I remambr Ada'z weegleez, but Dol Guldur an Elrond? O.O
Dang it Jasta, there he goes again! He can't keep doing this, we're on a really tight schedule here!
One more week to TTT, and I have more stories to tell, that's right, STORIESSSS! Review quick so you can have a personal love letter from Legolas, displayed here for the whole world to read. Next chapter in 2 days!
WATE!! WATE!! IRENA, Amin mela vys, Amin anta vys, WHUR AR U??????