Dad said I have a power.  I guess you could call it that, my power.  I catch fairies.  Father caught me one day, in the woods, gathering them.  They come and fly around me, dancing like tiny clouds of pixie dust.  I snap my Pressing Book on them, trapping the little dears.  Then, after I snatch one, I write an entry on it.  I like to tell how and where I caught her and I give my personal opinion on the creature.

My Nanna doesn’t believe me.  She even tries to throw away my book.  She found it in it’s secrete hiding place, behind the steamer trunk in the attic.  I think Daddy told her where it was hiding.  Nanna got very mad at me and tossed the book out the window.  When I went down to the drive to retrieve it, it was gone.  Instead, the butlers book lay there, staring me in the face.

My little friends, the fairies, have taken me on a million adventures.  One I described with great detail, in my book, happened near the end of last summer.  I sat behind the old woodshed in our yard, waiting for the fairies to arrive.  I noticed a tony window in the shed that I’d never seen before that day.

— To Be Continued on June 18th

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