Summer Bird Stories

Family-Friendly Short Stories, Cartoons, and Illustrations

Grandmother’s Famous Jam

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Susan and Arnold were visiting their grandmother.   She lived just through a little stretch of woods from their house, so they were allowed to walk there and back alone as long as they stayed together. Visiting grandmother was so much fun! She had wonderful stories to tell and games to play and she was probably the best cook ever.

When it was time to go home, grandmother pulled a jar of her famous raspberry jam off a shelf. “You can spread some on toast with your breakfast in the morning,” she said.

“Thank you!” Susan said. “I can carry it.”

“No, let me,” Arnold said. But Susan didn’t let go.   Arnold scowled.

“Are you both all bundled up?” They were. “Then off with you both. You need to get home before dark.”

They started out just fine, but when they were around the bend in the road and could no longer see grandmother’s house, Arnold threw a snowball at Susan. “Stop it, Arnold,” Susan said.

“You’re so mean and bossy,” Arnold said. “You should let me carry the jam.”

Susan set the jam on the ground beside her.   Arnold darted forward to grab it and Susan tackled him into the snow. After a brief struggle, Susan ended up sitting on Arnold. “I’m older, so I get to carry the jam, understand?” She said. “Now let’s go home before it gets dark. If you throw snow at me again I’ll tell mom. And I’ll pour cold water on your face in the morning to wake you up.” Arnold scowled.

Susan stood and brushed herself off. Arnold grumbled and got up too. Susan turned to pick up the jam. A fox was sneaking up to it, shiny spoon in paw. “Hey!” Susan said. The fox paused and Susan hastily assembled a snowball and held it up in warning.

“Now let’s not be hasty,” the fox said. “I’m sure we all can —What is that?”

Susan and Arnold didn’t look.

“That should have worked,” the fox said. “I guess you are both really smart kids.   Now I won’t have any of that wonderful jam. And it looks so lovely.”   His lower lip stuck out and he opened his eyes really wide. “I even have a clean spoon,” he said, holding it up.

“Fine,” Susan said. “Let me see your spoon.” She inspected it closely and wiped it with her handkerchief. “I guess you can have a taste. But I will scoop it out for you.”

“Hey! It’s my jam too!” Arnold said. “You can’t just give it away like that.” The fox stuck his lip out further and his eyes got even bigger.   Arnold scowled. “Fine,” he said.

Susan opened the jar and scooped out some jam.   “Thank you,” the fox said. He sat down and licked a little bit of jam off the spoon. “That’s absolutely marvelous. Mmmmm.”

Susan and Arnold started walking again. They needed to get home before dark, so they started walking a little faster. Suddenly something came crashing through the undergrowth beside the path and loomed over them. Both children shrieked. Just a little.

“I’m so sorry to have startled you,” said a gentle voice. It was a deer. The children relaxed a little. “I just saw that you have some of that famous raspberry jam. Could I possibly have a small taste? Surely you don’t need all that jam? Look, I even have my own spoon!”   The deer held out a spoon.

“Just check the spoon and give her some,” Arnold said.   “We need to get going.”

“Thank you,” the deer said. Susan checked and wiped the spoon and scooped up some jam.   As they hurried away, they heard the deer squealing in glee as she tasted the jam.

It was starting to get dark. Up ahead, a huge form blocked their path. It was a great big bear. It held up three spoons in one paw. Arnold looked at Susan and raised his eyebrows. She shrugged and held out her hand for the spoons. Three scoops later, they were on their way again.

It was very nearly dark and they were almost home.   An owl fluttered close and landed on Arnold’s shoulder, one talon clutching a spoon. “I will recite some poetry in exchange for a spoonful of that delicious jam,” the owl said.

“I’m sorry, we don’t have time right now,” Susan said.   “It’s almost dark.” The owl hung its head and hooted sadly. “Maybe we could give you some jam now and you can share the poem with us next time we see each other,” Susan said. She took the spoon.

The owl soared off with its jam, chirruping happily.   “We’ll have to run,” Arnold said.   They ran, and got home just before dark. “Welcome home,” their mother said. “Is that a jar of your grandmother’s raspberry jam? Why is it half empty?”

“Grandmother’s jam is too famous,” Arnold said.
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Heavy is the Crown

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King Lamorak returned from his month-long trip feeling annoyed. Annoyed and envious. He’d been visiting the nearby kingdoms and discovered to his dismay that their best crowns were all fancier than his best crown.

That was not acceptable. He told them that the crown he’d brought was just a traveling crown and they’d been suitably impressed. However, it actually was his best crown. It just wouldn’t do.

It was time for a new crown. It had to be the best one ever. He’d design it himself. Swirls of diamonds, arcs of gold filigree. He’d send off for rubies as big as his fist and opals that were even bigger. There would be lines of sapphires all through it tying everything together. It would drip diamonds and embroidered silk at the edges. And it would have a silk pillow hidden on the inside so that it wasn’t too uncomfortable.

He drew up the plans and consulted with his treasurers and the nation’s best jewelers. He’d be eating beans and potatoes in-between state dinners for the rest of his life, but that would surely just help him stay fashionably trim.   He took a deep breath and started signing all the paperwork.

King Lamorak announced his new crown on all the news stations and in every newspaper. He did dozens of interviews and finally released the designs. The nation counted down with him. He would hold a special VIP event a week after the crown came, where he would wear it in public for the first time. Tickets were on sale for ridiculous prices.

The day finally came and the crown arrived. It was beautiful, dazzling, better than he’d imagined. It was also very, very big.   Nervously, he lifted it up. It was very, very heavy. He put it on. Ouch. He tipped it into his hands and dropped it on his lap.

He massaged his neck. This wasn’t going to work. What could he do? At this point, not wearing the crown would mean losing a lot of face. He couldn’t really afford to do that. He groaned.

Luckily, he’d tried it on when he was alone.   Well, relatively alone. His best friend and personal advisor Ralph was there too. Ralph might say, “I told you so,” because he had. However, he wouldn’t tell anyone else.

“Ralph,” King Lamorak said, “you were right. I can’t wear this. What do I do?”

Ralph laughed. “I told you so.” He laughed some more.

The king waited patiently for the laughter to stop. Then he repeated his question.

“Hmmmm,” Ralph said. “Did you know that there are reproduction crowns that look just like the real thing? They’re hollow of course, and made of less expensive everything, but who’s going to take a jeweler’s glass to your head?”

“I could lock it in the treasury and no one has to know. Is it too late to order one?” King Lamorak asked. This could work.

“They were sold out months ago,” Ralph said.

“There must be some way to find one,” the king said.   “Perhaps an anonymous advertisement or a personal visit to the manufacturer?”

“Don’t worry,” Ralph said. “It’s taken care of. I ordered one the moment I saw the advertisement. I’ll be right back.”

Ralph returned a few minutes later with a cardboard box. It had been opened and retaped shut. King Lamorak retrieved his silver scissors and cut through the tape with a shaky hand.

He pulled aside the bubble wrap. There it was. If he didn’t know better, he would have assumed that it was the real thing.   He lifted it out. It was heavy, but no more so than any of his other crowns.

He put it on and looked in the mirror. Very nice. No one would be able to top this. He turned all the way around and studied it from every angle. Yes, this would do.

“Thank you, Ralph,” he said. “You’ve saved me once again.”

“What are friends for?” Ralph said.

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Forgetful Thaddeus

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Thaddeus was standing on his front steps looking through his key ring. No house key. That’s right, he’d taken it off the ring the other day to lend it to his sister, and he hadn’t gotten around to putting it back on. He’d been carrying it in his back pocket. He checked his pocket. Nope.

Time to retrace his steps. Luckily, this wasn’t the first time he’d forgotten something. He was really good at keeping a list of where he’d been all day.   He always checked for his planner whenever he left and then wrote where he was and what he did.

So, before coming home, he’d gone running around the track at the park.   Time to head back. At the park, he found his water bottle on the bench by the track. His keys weren’t there.   He looked around carefully to be sure.   All right, what was before that?

The library was a short walk through the park. He found his jacket by the computers, his favorite pen at the table he’d sat at, and his library card at the front desk. His keys were still missing.

He walked the aisles of the grocery store and found his shopping list sitting next to the potatoes. He even asked at the customer service desk, but unfortunately, his keys were not there.   He pulled out his planner and checked the list again.

He’d left a half-used book of stamps at the desk of the post office.   “I thought you might come back for these,” The postal worker said with a smile. “You’re lucky you came now, my shift is almost over.”

Thaddeus thanked her and asked if she’d seen a house key anywhere. She hadn’t.   Well, at least he had his stamps.   He tucked them into his jacket pocket and pulled out his planner. It looked like it was time to go to the bank again.

He’d left a granola bar at the bank among the magazines in the waiting area. He unwrapped it and bit into it as he left. Yuck, it was peanut butter. He always forgot how much he didn’t like the peanut butter granola bars. He ate it anyway and checked his planner.

Ah, yes. He’d gone to visit his elderly neighbor. She was lonely and liked his weekly visits. This would probably take a while. He knocked on the door. A short lady with snow-white hair opened the door just wide enough to peek out.   “Eloise!” Thaddeus said. “It’s lovely to see you again! Did I leave my key here?”

Eloise blinked up at him. “Harold? What was that about a monkey?”

“No, it’s Thaddeus,” he said. She always got his name wrong. It didn’t help that she couldn’t hear well. “I’m looking for my house key.”

“Oh, come in, then Andrew. There’s no need to be shy. I should have a first aid kit somewhere, maybe in the bathroom? Why don’t you go check while I boil some water.”   Eloise locked the door behind him and bustled off. Thaddeus sat on a chair and waited.

She returned a while later with a mug.   “It’s chamomile. For the stress, you know,” she said and handed it to him.   “Now show me your pinky. Which hand was it?”

Thaddeus pulled out his shopping list and pen and wrote out: “Have you seen my house key?”

Eloise took her reading glasses off the table and put them on. She leaned forward.   “House key? Why didn’t you say so, Jonathan? I don’t have it, but you left your umbrella here.” She pointed to his little black umbrella, propped up against the chair he was sitting in.

“Thank you, Eloise,” he said. “I’ll see you next week.”

“I’m sure you will, George. We’re all getting old,” she said.

He drank his chamomile tea, thanked her and left.   He checked his list. Yard work at home. He went home and looked all over the yard. His gloves were in the wheelbarrow and his baseball cap was hanging on the end of a tree branch. He still hadn’t found his key.

He checked his list. He’d been at home before this. There was nowhere else to look. His system had failed him. Would he have to call a locksmith? Break a window? Live on his front steps forever?

He tried the knob, feeling silly, because of course the door wouldn’t magically unlock itself. The knob turned and the door opened. He’d forgotten to lock it. He carried all his things inside and put them away, including the bag of groceries he’d left on the steps earlier. He found his key on the windowsill next to his bed. It had been here the whole time.

Well, his method had mostly worked after all.   Logic and organization win again.   They were always saving him –it’s why he’d become an accountant. Speaking of which, it was time to balance his accounts. Now, where had he left his calculator?
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Leonard’s Birthday

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“Okay Rob, rake all the leaves in the backyard, and we’ll give you a reward,” Dad said.

“Are you going to be all right here alone Robbie?” Mom asked.

Robert considered reminding them that his name was just Robert, not Rob or Robbie, but they were his parents and knew his name perfectly well. He settled for rolling his eyes when they weren’t looking.

“I’ll be fine,” he said. Soon they were out the door to celebrate something-or-other. Robert hadn’t really been paying attention, so he’d only heard the end of the conversation.

He went out to the garage and found the rake and some old gardening gloves.   Going back through the house, he paused to put on a jacket and grab a water bottle. It was time to get started.

The work wasn’t too hard. It just took a long time. He hummed little bits of songs while he raked and the pile grew.

It grew and grew. It was mostly leaves, but there were a few small branches tossed in there too.   Finally it was done. He leaned his rake against the plastic garden table and dropped the gloves on the leaf pile so that he could open his water bottle.

The leaf pile shook, and a sudden wind tore around it, but the leaves didn’t scatter. Instead, the leaf pile rose up in a pillar, until it was standing on two legs that were just smaller piles of leaves. It had two dark red leaves for eyes and a cavernous mouth. Two larger branches jutted from its sides as arms, with the gloves hanging from the ends.   It was a little creepy.

“Give me a name,” it said in a whispery voice.

“Leonard,” Robert said. “I suppose you could shorten it to –”

“No,” the leaf pile said. “Just Leonard.”

Robert could respect that. “So, what do you want to do?” he asked.

“Go inside and eat cake,” Leonard said.

“Isn’t it too hot for you in there?” Robert asked.

“I’m not made of snow,” Leonard said. “It’s my birthday and I want a cake.” Leonard began to stride toward the house. Instead of leaving a trail of leaves, they seemed to be attracted to him. By the time he reached the house there wasn’t a leaf left on the ground in the back yard. Robert opened the door and let him in.

Robert found his mother’s favorite cookbook and began measuring flour and cracking eggs. Once the cake was in the oven, he started the frosting. There wasn’t any powdered sugar, so he ground up regular sugar in the blender.   It was still gritty, but Leonard wouldn’t mind.

When the cake came out of the oven, Robert stuck it in the freezer to cool.   “It’ll need at least half an hour before we can put the frosting on,” he said. “Would you like to watch cartoons?”

“Okay,” Leonard said. “Lead the way.” They sat together on the couch and watched cartoons. Leonard had a rustly, crackly sort of laugh. It somehow made everything even funnier.   They laughed and laughed.

Eventually, Robert went in to frost the cake. He left Leonard in the living room watching cartoons. When he returned, Leonard had become a formless mass of leaves spilling off the couch. “Oh, Leonard,” he said sadly.

He grabbed some garbage bags from the cupboard and dug the gloves out of the pile of leaves and put them on. He scooped up the leaves and stuffed them in the bags and left the bags on the back porch.   Then he turned off the cartoons.

There was a roundish yellow leaf stuck between the couch cushions.   Robert picked it up and put it in his pocket.

Just then, his parents returned home. His dad was carrying a little paper sack. “Let’s see how well you did, Rob,” he said. He peered out the sliding glass door at the back yard. “Honey, come look! There isn’t a leaf left on the lawn!”

“Great work, Robbie,” Mom said. “You definitely earned your reward. Let’s go to the kitchen and we can tell you about the movie we watched.”

Robert followed them to the kitchen. “Wow,” his mom squealed, “Robbie made us a cake for our anniversary!” She hugged him tightly. “You are such a good kid.”

“Well, that makes his reward kind of pointless,” Dad said.

“Nonsense, he’ll just have two pieces of cake. Right, Robbie?” Mom said.

“Well, we do need to celebrate,” Robert said. He’d eat one for himself and one for Leonard. After all, it was Leonard’s birthday. Maybe he should save a little slice in the freezer later too, just in case Leonard came back again one day.

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Charlie’s Room: The Toy Box

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Isaac was walking to his car after work and saw a toy box in the window of an antique shop. It looked like an old-fashioned treasure chest and was probably large enough for Charlie to fit inside. It was perfect. Charlie’s old toy box was overflowing.

Isaac hurried inside to check it out. It was made of wood and sturdy, but surprisingly lightweight. The price was absurdly low. How strange. When he brought it up to the counter, the clerk looked nervous.

“All sales are final,” he said as he rang up the purchase.

“But the sign by the register says…” Isaac began to say, pointing to a sign that said, “Full refunds for all purchases returned within 30 days.”

“It’s a new policy,” the man interrupted. “You can’t bring it back now. Here you go. Thank you for your purchase.”

Isaac took his receipt and the toy box and left feeling a little confused.   As he carefully slid it into the back seat, his excitement returned. Charlie was going to love it! Maybe they could play pirates this weekend and have a scavenger hunt or something.   A treasure chest like this was just begging to be part of some sort of pirate game, at least once.

The house was empty when he got home. Marianne and Charlie must have already left for swimming lessons. Isaac hurried into Charlie’s room with the new toy box.

He dumped out the old one, leaving a mound of toys in the middle of the floor.   The toys Charlie didn’t play with anymore were all on the top of the pile. There were rattles and raggedy teddies and teething rings and books that had been colored all over with crayons and cars missing their wheels.

He put the new toy box next to the bookshelf. It fit perfectly. He looked at the pile dubiously. Perhaps all the things from the bottom of the old box didn’t need to go into the new one. However, it might be better if Charlie was the one to sort through everything.

He picked up a blue cow that he remembered Charlie hated because it was the wrong color and dropped it in the new box. There was a strange sound. He looked into the toy box. It was empty.

He looked a little closer. There was a scrap of blue fur stuck to a little line of ridges that ran in a line along one side. There was a matching stripe of ridges along the bottom of the other side of the box.   He reached in to retrieve the scrap of blue fur. As he reached towards it, the ridges darted together to meet in the middle, attached to boards that came from nowhere.

They met like teeth and chomped together twice more. Then there was a brief thumping sound, like rocks being tossed together in a small wooden box. The boards separated and slid back into place. The bottom of the box looked sound, but Isaac was afraid to touch it. He felt along the outside.

There was nowhere for those sliding boards to go. There was nowhere for the cow to go. This made no sense. He picked up an ugly little snow globe filled with poorly painted candy. He tossed it in. Crunch, crunch, crunch. There was the sound of rocks and breaking glass. The bottom of the box wasn’t even wet.

This was not a safe toy box. He could try to take it apart or store it in the garage, but that might kill it.   That didn’t seem fair. If it was eating things it was alive, right? Or was it some sort of magical garbage disposal?

Who could he call for advice? Great-Aunt Bethyl seemed to know all about strange things like this. He found her phone number and called. She picked up on the seventh ring.

“Hello?” she said.

“Great-Aunt Bethyl,” Isaac said. “It’s Isaac, Marianne’s husband. I was hoping you could give me advice.”

“What do you need help with?” she asked.

“I bought a toy chest at the antique shop, but it eats things. It chews them up and swallows them. Do you know who I should call?” Isaac asked.

“I think I still have some of my old contacts. Someone will be by shortly,” Great-Aunt Bethyl said. Then she hung up.

Twenty minutes later, a man in black pants and a green polo shirt was at the door. “Hello,” he said, smiling widely, “agent –I mean your great-aunt –called and said you had a box for me to look at?”

Isaac showed him the box, and the man seemed delighted as it crunched up a cheap plastic rattle. “Where did you get this?” He asked.

“The antique store on Hawthorne road,” Isaac said.

“Wonderful. Now, don’t tell anybody about this. Just pretend you never saw it,” the man said. He took the box and left.

Isaac looked at the pile of toys. He slid the old toy box back into place. If Charlie sorted through things and they donated what he didn’t want, it would probably all fit fine. They could work on it together right after dinner. That was better than getting a new toy box anyway, wasn’t it?

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Lomondy

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It was a nice, unusually warm fall day, and Jeremy was playing in the garden. An early frost had taken care of the last of the vegetables, so Dad didn’t mind if he played there. Last week had been cold and rainy and Jeremy was happy for the sunshine.

The ground was muddy enough to pull on his shoes and make squishy squelching sounds as he walked around and pulled on interesting bits of vine. He paused and looked around.   Maybe if he added a bit more water, he could make a pool. Then he could pull off his socks and shoes and run around in circles and make a whirlpool.

Jeremy ran for the hose and turned it on. He aimed it at the garden and waited. It started puddling up in a promising sort of way, but then it ran out into the yard and made the grass all marshy. It also ran under the fence into the neighbor’s lawn. That probably wasn’t good.

The neighbor was grumpy and shouted at Jeremy from over the fence if he played to loudly in the yard. The neighbor’s cat was mean too and liked to come into the yard and scratch at Jeremy if he tried to pet him. Jeremy privately believed they deserved each other.

It was time to turn off the hose before the neighbor noticed that his yard was a little flooded. It didn’t look like it was going to work anyways. Maybe if he dug a big hole? But he wasn’t really allowed to dig in the garden without permission.

At this point Jeremy’s socks and shoes and ankles and trousers and shirt and jacket and everything really were all wet and muddy. It was probably time to go inside and take a nice warm bath.

Jeremy didn’t get to go outside again that day, because he was in trouble for tracking mud all over the house and leaving his muddy things in the towel cupboard on top of the clean towels. So, he was excited that it was still nice out and he was able play outside for a little bit the next afternoon.

He ran over to the garden. The grass was still soggy. Strange.   It hadn’t rained at all the night before. “Why is the grass all wet?” He said out loud.

“Magic,” a deep voice said. A sea monster shimmered into view.

“The Loch Ness monster!” Jeremy said.

“Nonsense. Of course not,” the sea monster said.

“Huh?” Jeremy paused, still prepared to run away. “Then what are you?”

“Nessie is my cousin. I’m the Loch Lomond monster, of course. You can call me Lomondy,” the monster said.

“I’ve never heard of you,” Jeremy said.

“I travel a lot, Nessie doesn’t,” the monster said. “I like it here. There is wildlife to eat and all this nice squishy mud. I think I’ll stay here forever.”

“Dad!” Jeremy ran yelling into the house. Dad followed him back outside, but there was nothing there. Dad turned to go inside. Lomondy shimmered into view and winked at him, then disappeared.

The flooded garden remained flooded. There were no more squirrels running along the tops of the fences.   Birds stopped pecking along the edge of the garden for worms. The neighbor’s cat went missing.

Jeremy kept checking outside, but for a week, nothing happened. Then one day, when he went out, Lomondy was there.   “Thank you for your hospitality,” she said. “I’ve really enjoyed the visit.”

“Are you leaving? I thought you were going to stay here forever.” Jeremy said.

“I was joking,” Lomondy said. “The weather is changing and I’d like to stay ahead of the cold. If I wanted to be cold, I’d stay the winter in Loch Lomond.”

“Will you come again?” Jeremy asked.

“Will you flood the garden again next year?” Lomondy asked.

“Maybe I will,” Jeremy said.

“Then maybe I will come again,” Lomondy answered. She disappeared and the water in the garden started to drain away. The next day it snowed. Jeremy built a snow Lomondy in the garden, so he wouldn’t forget.

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