Hard Boiled Quail Eggs Pot Cheese Watercress Black Caviar Champagne Olives Onions
“the storm raged as if it had lost it’s mind completely” pg. 7 “furious blasts of wind” pg. 8 “being knocked about in a world that had lost it’s manners” pg.8 and 10 “thoughtless weather” pg. 6 “angry thunder” pg. 7 “had a mind to go” pg. 10 “bright day was his only witness” – metaphor, pg. 23 “star shone with proud approval” pg. 56 “the cold lanced through” – metaphor, pg. 74 “the wind was a lost, unloved soul, screaming and moaning and rushing about looking for a place to rest and reckon up its woes” pg. 81 “full-fledged, screaming hurricane” pg. 8 “Star shone with proud approval” pg. 56 “He felt the tree knew his feelings” pg. 53 “the howling and yowling, the lashing and whistling of the wind” pg. 74
Fancy (clothes, food), wealthy, maybe a bit vain, thinks highly of himself, brags about himself- thinks he’s important. Abel also really loves his wife, Amanda, risking his life to save her scarf, which landed him on an island. Very impulsive, and that gets him into trouble. Buys very expensive food, clothes. He has a lot of dignity. Abel, sadly, had never really worked to earn all his money. All of his money came from his dad. Abel is also starting to believe in magic, spouting a “magic” spell over a feather. He is beginning to think some big thoughts about the way of the world. Abel has not found a vocation yet, but he discovered art and clay working on the island. He is talented at it, and probably would not have discovered it if he had never gotten on the island. Overall, if Abel had not gotten on the island and had troubles of his own, he would not have found many nice and fun things (such as art) and Abel also become a better mouse in the time that he was on the island.
Abel was a bit sad when he left the island, which is understandable as it had fed him and sheltered him for over a year. After Abel did leave the island behind, he was a better mouse. That magnificent island changed him, changed him so he did not mind scavenging for food, or picking it fresh or digging it up. He was less self-conscious, less selfish, and discovered art (his vocation) and real beauty. Abel found danger, love, and wisdom. He found new tools, and rediscovered old ones. I’m sure that when Amanda beheld Abel in her home again, she was proud of him, and glad of the changes to his personality. Talks to himself. On the island, Abel was overcome with moments of ecstasy and craziness, dancing and prancing around.
Board and nail Board, nail, and rudder Wooden catamaran with oars Sailboat using his jacket as a sail Abel used his rodent teeth, pen knife, grass, and twigs/sticks Tunnel (he decided against it for fear of dying when nobody was around or knew about it) Rope (out of grass) and slingshot House (out of a hollow log) Catalpa-leaf hang glider Elderberry wine (stored in clay pots) Clay statues (of his family) Woven grass mats Curtains and shutters Spear Winter cloak Snowshoes Shovel Bedding (milkweed fluff and paper margins from his bear book) Rock bridge (which failed) Clay bowls Fire
Mushroom Island Hollow Log Forest Cherry Birch Brambles Gully full of bushes, brambles, weeds, mushrooms, etc. Another example of brambles and berries
Some examples of rodent teeth. In the book Abel’s Island, Abel starts out very civilized, snobbish, a bit selfish, fairly intelligent, and scared. Then when he lands on the island, Abel uses his rodent teeth for a knife, gnawing out boat forms in chunks of kind of rotten wood. Before, when Abel was at his home sweet home, he had just used his teeth to eat and drink, never to chew wood.
The recently-married couple, Abel and Amanda, went on a picnic. They had a lovely lunch, followed by a game of croquet afterward. Then it began to rain, thunder booming and lightning flashing, as the rain beat down, blown by the furious wind. Desperate to find shelter, Abel and his wife hunkered under Abel’s blazer, scurrying into the woods. They ran, or were blown by the wind, through the woods until they came against a huge, rocky cliff. Then furry and reptilian faces stuck their heads out of a small cave not far above them. Full of relief, Abel and Amanda climbed up to the entrance. In that cave, there were many chattering animals who had found this shelter in the woods. Congratulations were passed around by all, by weasels, toads, rats, and mice. Narrator’s Thoughts: It was kind of hard to see all this happening the tree branches and leaves, just so you know. Meanwhile, the storm still raged. Abel and Amanda were at the front of the crowd, staring at the drama around them. Amanda had leaned forward to watch a tree fall, and then…*gasp! Horrors of horrors!* Her scarf of gauze was torn from her neck by the raving wind. Apparently mortified, Abel rushed out of the cave to recover her scarf. But the wind was too strong for him to climb back up the incline. Abel was hurled away, bouncing and careening off trees, bushes, rocks, and the ground. Eventually he was flung onto a nail. Abel held on with all his strength. This gave him enough time to look around. The nail was stuck in a rotting board, and the board was in a gully of gravel. Soon, as the hard rain pounded on the ground, a stream formed in the gully, and Abel’s boat was carried down stream.
*Intermission from narrator* Now, If I had gone through the same thing that Abel had during that screaming, insane, mad, hurricane, I probably would have either died, or visited the loo in my pants. Okay, sorry. I just HAD to say it. Now, I’ve got something interesting and saddening here. Abel, on his tiny boat, is about to go down a waterfall. I do hope it won’t kill him. I’ve grown kind of attached to that nonsensical hairball. So, anyway, Abel continued floating down stream. From where I was up in the Mousinburg Blimp, avoiding the strikes of lightning, the river, the island, and the waterfall made up a horrible scene. The waterfall was a cup of water that was being poured down the throat of a monster, and the island and ground all around it (rapidly disappearing under waves of water), were the head of the beast. It all was fairly disorienting, seeing it from a bird’s eye view. It honest-to-goodness seemed like Abel was doomed to either drown or go down the monster’s stomach (neither of which seem like brave, calm, noble, deaths, that I’m sure was the way that that absolutely crazy ball of brains, bones, and fur wanted to die). But, luckily those two things did NOT happen. Abel was snagged in the tip of a tree that showed above the sea of water. I do hope he survived getting down from the tree. Or he possibly might have died from starvation, loneliness, or disease. I really do wonder what happened next, because at the very instant I observed Abel alone in the tree, a particularly strong gust of wind blew the Mousinberg Blimp away from the disaster scene.
November 25 th To my dear, fowl, diary: The little mouse was annoying. That was the heart of the issue. I mean, how often does an owl like me get a chance to eat some actual, terrified prey? I had noticed the tiny midget around the island, poking into my business (he stole my book of bears and read it, the darn guy). But it is really maddening when you find some funny, delicious, prey, and it bites back at you! That mouse bit my foot! Well, I think he did. Mr. Mouse either bit me, or stabbed me with his tiny knife. That day I was humiliated. And in front of all of my fowl friends, too! That day I swore on my lucky charm the rabbit’s foot, that I was going to GET that dang mouse, and get ‘em good. That night a maniacal laugh escaped my cold beak: “CHRIIIIIIIPRIHAHAHA!” Dear Diary P. S. A few days after that incident, I had fallen asleep on my favorite branch with schemes of slaughtering that mouse filling my head. Then, minutes later, my beeeeeautiful golden eyes opened. I couldn’t shake the notion that the little mouse was close. I couldn’t shake the feeling that he had some of my feathers. I began scheming less elaborate, more solid, quicker ways to eat that annoyance.
December 10 th To my dear, fowl, diary: Today was the day. I had decided that from the moment I awoke. That mouse was going to be my dinner. To warm up in the frosty winter air, I unfurled my white wings and soared around the skies for a bit. Then I sat in my favorite branch, and waited, just waiting, for Mr. Mouse to scamper by. Eventually, he did. I was imagining scenes of the mouse running, terrified, away from me, when he came into view, murmuring some sort of chant to himself. He looked the picture of a nice, easy meal. However, he did have his spear. Rats, I thought. Well… it’s now or never. Either I wait for a time when he doesn’t have his spear, or I go for the mouse now and scare him out of his furry ears. I chose the latter. Jumping from my branch, with the wind whistling under my wings, I shot towards him. The mouse jabbed at me with the spear. I swerved away in midair, and came back for another attack, hoping to catch him off guard. No such thing. Mr. Mouse was primitive enough to know the first rule of hunting: Always pay attention, and never stop fighting. So, this time I was very unlucky. The pen-knife spear point pierced my feathers and skin. Angry with pain and disbelief beyond measure, I scratched at the little mouse’s body. Rats! I just snagged off his cape. Apparently the mouse liked that cape, because as soon as I ripped it off, he jabbed at me in a fit of fear and rage. Oh no. Mr. Mouse knew how to tussle. Either that, or he was just mad. Really, really, really, mad. But anyway, he surprised me. I had not expected the tiny guy to put up a long fight. I had to get away from him, or else my meal would be spoiled! Such thoughts ran through my head as I flapped my wings to get back to my branch. I hoped that my fowl friends on the island hadn’t seen me. Why, if they had… they would never look at me again without sneering with disgust!
Time to regroup… time to regroup… must get back at him. From the tree, I stared down at Mr. Mouse in disbelief and anger, as he started YELLING at me. Yeah, the mouse was mad. From what I could tell, he screamed something like this at me: “Coward! Come down and do battle, whatever kind of bird, reptile, fiend, or villain you are!” I stared at him. “Down with unsightly devils! Down with evil of any sort!” And with that totally absurd not-true note, as I was NOT evil at all (I was just ensuring that the mouse was put in the proper place; in my stomach. It is the way of the food chain, you know.), he chucked his spear at me and missed me but hit the tree. OH! GOODY! I squealed inwardly. I thought the mouse was perhaps a bit wrong in the head today; usually he’s smarter than that (because in battle, you NEVER throw away your weapon). But, I had to do my duty to the food chain and my honor. 1.2534 seconds later, the mouse was running around the tree in a crazed dance of survival. I was chasing after him, trying not to barf last night’s dinner up. Eventually I did get dizzy and crash into the tree. Then the mouse got away with his life and his spear, and I was left sprawling somewhere with a lump on my head. It was a terrible day for the proper ways of the food chain. And my stomach.
“Dealer of death”, “winged assassin”, “ominous air”, “muted terror”, “sharp beak”, “grappling talons”, “bone chilling” are all words that either describe Abel (muted terror) and the rest describe the obviously scary (to Abel) owl. “Sentinel of hell”, as Abel describes the owl sitting on a branch. Abel also mentions the owl as an “unsightly devil”, “coward”, “villain”, “evil of any sort”, and also “fiend”.
“Abel! Oh, dear Abel! It’s you! It’s really, really you!” Amanda came rushing in and flung herself into Abel’s arms. They covered each other with kisses. When he was able to speak, Abel said, “I’ve brought you back your scarf.”