Hello, everyone.
This is Ria with a quick note.
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Now on to the show.
This is Ria.
Welcome to Little Stories for Tiny People.
I am so excited for our story that I'm just going to get right to... Huh?
Who could that be?
I'll be right back.
This will just take a minute.
Hi, can I help you?
Oh, okay.
Uh, you can leave it right... Wait, that must be a mistake.
I'm sure I didn't order anything like that.
Hmm.
I really can't... Uh-huh.
Uh-huh.
Well, couldn't you just... Okay.
Thank you.
You too.
Well, this is a first.
That was a delivery.
And not just any delivery...
It wasn't a normal delivery.
You'd expect to show up at a podcast studio like a new microphone or a bag of decorative gravel.
It was something else.
Something I definitely did not order and something I do not want in my studio, for perfectly understandable reasons,
It's an enormous ant farm.
Whatever size ant farm you are imagining right now, double it.
Triple it.
This thing is gigantic and it is now literally right next to me in my tiny little studio, forcing me to push in my hard metal stool as far as it will go.
I don't have room for this.
I already have my tower of breakable plates, The remains of my antique teacup collection, my hall of mirrors.
The wind chimes.
I have to make sure to keep still when I record my stories.
I cannot fit an oversized ant farm teeming with ants.
And I would never order this.
I can't even think who would have... Oh, I have a new email.
Hmm.
It's from the Studio Spiders.
Dear Rhea, please make sure you do not scratch the glass of our new ant farm with your fingernails.
What?
My fingernails are very normal and could never scratch glass.
And secondly, why did you order this ant farm?
That is downright sinister.
That's it.
I'm selling this ant farm.
I'm also putting my email notifications on silent.
Let me just make a quick post to get rid of this thing.
Brand new, never before used ant farm.
The perfect gift or a great addition to your vacation home.
There we go.
Well, I'm not going to be able to get rid of it in the next 30 minutes, so I guess I'll just get on with the story.
It is a little strange telling a story while pressed up against the glass of a gigantic ant farm brimming with ants, but when you are a storyteller, this is just the kind of thing you have to deal with.
Let's get to our story.
It's called Little Hedgehog Goes Apple Picking.
Take it away, Sophia.
Remember, there are no pictures.
You have to imagine them in your mind.
You can imagine them however you want.
Okay?
Here we go!
It was one o'clock in the afternoon on a Wednesday in early fall when Mr Hedgehog woke up out of a dream, sat up in bed and murmured apple cricket muffins, with a dreamy look on his face.
His eyes fluttered open, blinking against the sunshine coming in his window.
The dreamy look on his face vanished as he realized there were no apple cricket muffins.
It had been yet another dream.
Lately, Mr. Hedgehog could not get apple cricket muffins out of his mind.
Specifically, his Nana's famous apple cricket muffins.
When he was a tiny hedgehog, she'd make them just for him every time he visited her.
They were so good.
Made with fresh apples, they must be freshly picked.
I picked these apples today in broad daylight, when I should have been sleeping.
Fresh crickets, of course.
Caught them myself.
One gave me quite the runaround, I'll tell you that.
And a variety of flavorful spices.
Just the tiniest pinch of cardamom, my dear.
Sitting up in bed, blinking against the harsh afternoon light.
Mr. Hedgehog decided then and there he was done dreaming about apple cricket muffins.
It was time to bake them himself.
He shuffled into his tiny, prickly daughter's bedroom in the middle of their underground burrow, within a great forest teeming with life.
Sunlight poured through the little round window in Little Hedgehog's room, where she and Bebe her best friend of all time were asleep on the burrow floor.
Little Guy the chameleon, who lived in a leaf-filled enclosure in the corner of Little Hedgehog's room, perched on a branch and fixed one big eye on Mr Hedgehog.
Mr Hedgehog was just about to wake Little Hedgehog and Bebe when he heard She told me I could have five buckets of root vegetable lollipops and I said three was fine.
Mr. Hedgehog stopped short, a smile crossing his face.
He paused a moment, then opened his mouth to speak.
But then he heard three buckets should be more than sufficient.
My mom says one should never have more than 38 fruit vegetable lollipops in a sitting.
Okay.
Mr. Hedgehog blinked.
He crept closer to check that Little Hedgehog and Bebe were, in fact, asleep.
He leaned over Little Hedgehog so that their noses were nearly touching.
All of a sudden, she sat up in bed.
Yum!
And smacked right into her dad.
He put a paw to his aching head.
Oh, sorry, Dad.
It's fine.
Dad, it's so early.
What are you doing up?
Little Hedgehog asked, blinking against the sunlight.
Bebe sat up next, shielding her eyes with a paw.
Good afternoon, Mr. Hedgehog.
To what do we owe the pleasure?
Hey, Bebe.
I'll get to that, but first, I heard you both sleep talking.
Little Hedgehog and Bebe giggled.
We were dreaming, Mr. Hedgehog.
Just dreaming, Dad.
You were dreaming. together?
About root vegetable lollipops.
Root vegetable lollipops, Mr. Hedgehog.
Okay, uh, look, I'm here because we are going apple picking.
We haven't seen Nana Hedgehog in a few weeks and I thought we could make some apple cricket muffins for her, just like she did for me when I was a young hedgehog.
Little Hedgehog's and Bebe's eyes grew wide.
A visit to great Nana?
Little Hedgehog's Nana Hedgehog is superlative in every way, in my opinion.
And apple picking?
Mr Hedgehog, we are going to travel to an apple orchard and select our own apples with which to bake delicious treats.
That's right.
And it's no fun to go to the apple orchard at night.
I figured we'd get up early and get there while the sun is up.
Yay!
Yay!
Yay!
The third yay came from Little Guy, who stared down at them with big eyes from his leafy perch.
Oh, Little Guy, you're up!
Good afternoon, Little Guy.
Little Guy's only word was yay, so he just smiled.
Dad, can we bring Little Guy?
Please, can we bring him?
If he wants to come, sure, why not?
The three of them scampered through the daytime forest on their way to the apple orchard.
Mr. Hedgehog pushed an empty wheelbarrow.
Bebe held a homemade walking stick with one paw and Little Hedgehog scampered along with her chameleon Little Guy perched on her shoulder prickles.
So, if I understand you correctly, Mr Hedgehog, you are saying that you wish to recreate the magic of your beloved Nana's apple cricket muffins, in order to both have a delicious treat, but also to address the cloying nostalgia of your lost youth.
I wouldn't put it that way, but, well, I just can't stop thinking about those muffins.
Nana Hedgehog used to make them for me every time I visited her burrow.
That's so sweet, Dad.
Heartwarming.
As nocturnal creatures, they were not used to being out in the bright sun of the afternoon, and they took in the sights as they went.
There was a creek burbling over rocks, complete with frogs perched upon the biggest boulders.
There was a sales squirrel giving a presentation to a group of other squirrels about the luxuries of houseboat living.
Personally, I rent mine out for three months out of the year.
Lots of squirrels keep their trees, too.
Can you grow a tree on a houseboat?
I'd have a hard time without any trees at all.
Sure, yeah.
I know a guy who grew a tree right out of the deck of his houseboat.
He loves it.
Although you do run the risk of... And there were three cows in a nearby tree.
Oops, I mean there were three crows in a nearby tree.
That's better.
Eventually, the trail, once dense with trees and shrubs crowding the path, opened up and widened.
A few more steps and the trail turned into a gravelly path leading to what looked like an endless orchard of apple trees extending in all directions.
Wow!
Whoa!
It's different during the day, right?
It was.
They'd traveled there a few times before during the night, and it was always quiet.
They'd seen a few possums and some scavenging raccoons and mice.
But nocturnal creatures tended to be quiet and quick in their work, focused on getting food efficiently and then going home.
Daytime creatures, not so much.
They took in the festive atmosphere.
There is so much more to this story.
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