Tired of life in the slow lane, Seymour crawled out from under his rock and sped as quickly as he could away from the sanctuary of the Smith's garden and into the fascinating world beyond the garden wall.
Where to go first, thought Seymour... perhaps he would visit a relative; it had been a snail's age since he'd seen any family members. At first he couldn't think of any relatives in the area, but then remembered a sea snail cousin, Pierre, mentioning his intention to emigrate to BC. Yes, yes, now Seymour remembered: Pierre had come across as quite the braggart at the last family snailfest when he talked about his certainty of being "buttered up" by a top chef at a French restaurant in Vancouver. After several moments (or was it hours?), Seymour slid around and headed Westward to the nearest Fisheries and Oceans facility to search for information about recent sea snail immigration.
Down, down, down, slid Seymour at an admirable pace; into the depths of the impressive and educational Capilano River facility
Damn - nothing but salmon here.
1 comment:
Love, love, love this story. I laughed at every adventure and am constantly astounded how clever & creative Barbara is. I want a signed copy of the book when it comes out...first in line.
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