My Name is Rapunzel(28)

But, oh no! My aunt. What would I say about her?

I must have paused too long, because Pepper interrupted my thoughts. “It's all right chic! I totally understand. Maybe next time?”

“Yeah, maybe next time.” I smiled and hugged the magazines closer to me. I glanced down at the hairstyle book. Yes, Pepper was right. That one on the cover would suit me. If only.





CHAPTER TWELVE




I held the magazines close to me as if I were hugging the world, hugging my parents, hugging Henry. My heart began thumping to a fast beat and I nearly ran back to the castle. I rarely experienced much joy, and it's sad to admit those magazines and a simple newspaper could do just that. They were my connection to the world and to people.

Gardening would have to wait.

I flew up the stone spiral stairs to my room in the tower. I dropped the magazines on my bed with a thud. Grabbing the folds of my skirt I plopped on my mattress and rested on my elbows. I tore through the pages of beautiful women in fashionable clothes, careful not to rip them or there'd be nothing to read later. This ritual first glance through was more for visual pleasure than anything. I could linger over the words later tonight by candlelight.

Exotic beach locations. Fancy hairstyles. Beautiful elaborate wedding dresses. Homes decorated every inch. And gardening. I saved that for last because it actually applied to me. Page after page of tips for growing my flowers and vegetables to award-winning standards. Tips I’d already mostly learned centuries ago, but still liked to ponder. Every once in a while I came across something I hadn't considered before. Learning made me feel alive.

I reached for the weekly newspaper so I could learn about the comings and goings of the folks in Paradise Valley. But first, I dug through the folds. Ah! There it was. I plucked the crossword puzzle from the middle section and laid it aside for later in the week. I scanned through the Community section and turned to the Local People part, hoping to see a familiar face so I could add some information to my scrapbook.

I popped up from my elbows and reached into my side table drawer to retrieve my scissors. Weddings, births, and obituaries. I added the data and the clippings to my Paradise Valley scrapbook. Boy, those Harpers sure kept me busy over the years. Happy people, living, loving, dying. The cycle of life. It was shocking how people mourned that cycle.

Well, that about did it. A sense of melancholy descended upon me as I reached the end of my connection to the outside world. Sure, I'd consume it again in greater detail later, but that initial rush had passed for another week. I sighed, then scanned the article titles one last time and lifted my hand to fold the newspaper closed.

Wait, what was that?



Fairy Tales are for Children

By John Jenkins



Dear Readers,

Welcome to the sixth full moon article this year.

I'm sure you've had your romantic fill of candlelight dinners, flowers, and candy for the year. I know my wallet has suffered dearly, during the past four months, and I'm ready to get back to a normal life, without every kiss ending with a hope of a promise or a proposal. I'm so glad the pronounce-your-love day is long gone and only celebrated once a year!

Recently I've read some hilarious articles about adults believing in childhood fairy tales. Maybe not so much as Jack and the Beanstalk or Red Riding Hood, but more like Cinderella or Snow White.

Let me just say, fairy tales are not real. They don't exist. It's that simple. I hope I don’t burst your bubbles by pointing this out. While I'm on the subject, might I also remind you, dear readers, that neither Santa Clause nor the Tooth Fairy exist either. I'm simply trying to keep things real here, folks. Just because your neighbor claims to have found true love or someone wins the lottery doesn't make it a fairy tale. A wish or a dream-come-true doesn't count as being a fairy tale.

How can we tell the difference? Fairy tales are fun stories told to children in grade school. They do not exist and therefore they are not real. I can't stress this enough.

Personally, I've never seen a big bad wolf huff and puff and blow a house down. Nor have I seen a little girl as small as my thumb. If a Golden Goose were real, wouldn't we all have one? And let's not forget the famous girl with the golden hair long enough to use as a rope. Let's get real, people! Who on earth would be able to wash, dry and brush all that hair without spending a fortune on shampoo and hairdryers? I promise, if I ever meet her, I'll advise her to chop it all off, then donate it to charity. I bet it would bring a fair price!

If you work hard and save your money in an interest-bearing account, you can have anything you want. Call it a wish or a dream, that's entirely up to you. I call it setting goals, and goals are not considered fairy tales. Love happens when your heart is ready for it and Mr. Nobody won the lottery because he gambled his money away and simply got lucky.