I was scratching my head wondering who I was going to interview this week. I've interviewed so many lovely characters from children's literature this past year, that it's getting difficult to come up with someone new to chat with.
So I was sitting in my favorite thinking place with my eyes closed, tapping my head saying "Think, think, think...think think," when it hit me. I really needed to track down one of my favorites when I was little. I'm talking, of course, about Winnie-the-Pooh. I hiked on over to the Hundred Acre Wood, and was fortunate to find him at home and in an agreeable mood.
Pooh: Likewise, I'm sure. Um, that wouldn't happen to be a honey pot you're holding would it?
Greg: Why yes as a matter of fact it is. I was going to have some a little later.
Pooh: Later? Oh, well you can have it later of course. But, uh, I usually find that later, while very nice on its own, is not quite as nice as er...
Greg: Not a nice as what, Pooh?
Pooh: Well, not as nice as now. Now is usually better, I find, than later.
Greg: That may well be true, but I'm afraid if I give you any honey I won't get another word out of you. I would be happy to share this with you after our interview.
Pooh: Oh bother. If there's one thing that's worse than later, it's after.
Greg: Patience Pooh Bear. I promise we'll get to the honey. But first, this is a very interesting house you live in. I noticed the sign above the door. Who is Mr. Sanders?
Pooh: The memory escapes me at present, but I remember that my family has lived under the name of Sanders for time out of mind. It is a cozy house, but it feels rather empty now as there is not a drop of honey in the place, which makes me all rumbly in my tumbly, you see.
Greg: Yes, I do see. Not to worry Pooh, every minute brings us closer to the end and honey.
Pooh: That's not what Rabbit says. He says that every minute brings us closer to the end, and then that's it. There isn't anything. Piglet does not agree. He says that there is something very lovely when we get to the end. Christopher Robin agrees with Piglet, but Eeyore thinks Rabbit makes a lot of sense. What do you think?
Greg: Well, I've always been of the opinion that there's something very nice at the end, like this jar of honey.
Pooh: I'll tell you what I think. Mind you, it's probably not right. My thinker does not think too well, you see. I think once one story ends another begins. The first story, if it's any good, makes you excited for the next one, and that one will lead to another even better one. That's what I think, although I'm probably wrong.
Perhaps all there are in the next story are heffalumps and woozles and Jagulars. That would not be a very happy story. I thought I was in a story like that the other night. It was quite blustery. There were lots of thumps and bumps. I would have thought they were after my honey, if I had any that is.
Greg: Oh dear, how terrifying. What happened?
Pooh: Well, I hid under the bed quite a bit. But it turned out that it wasn't a heffalump or a woozle. It was a Tigger.
Greg: A tigger. What sort of creature is that?
Pooh: Very stripedy. Orange and black stripes. He laughs and jokes, too. Mostly, though, he bounces. He bounces all over the place. He scared poor Piglet half to the next story when he met him. Poor Piglet. He always gets so scared. I'll have to introduce you sometime.
Greg: To whom, Tigger or Piglet?
Pooh: Both, actually. I'll introduce you to everybody, because you can't know everybody until you've met them. Once you meet them, then I'm sure you'll recognize them because I've told you so much about them, you see?
Greg: Strangely enough, I think I do. Listen Pooh, my head is starting to hurt, so how about ending this interview and having some honey? Thanks for chatting with me.
Pooh: Yes, please. Chatting is lovely in its way, but it can't really compare to some nice honey. Mmmm, yummm. Oh this is very, very good. Oh yes, this is definitely fine clover honey with a hint of lavender. Mmmm, mmmm. Oh, bother.
Greg: What's the matter Pooh?
Pooh: It's gone already. Not even the sticky parts are left.