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Speaker 1: Hello, and welcome back to Sleepy Stories. I'm your host, Lucy,

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and my friends and I will be reading you a

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sleepy bedtime story every week to relax you and to

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help you to drift off into a RESTful sleep. From

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time to time, we will also read you a relaxing,

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peaceful meditation that will take you somewhere beautiful and calming.

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Once we have read the stories, we will then read

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them a second time, but this time they will be

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ready even slower. This will help you to relax even more.

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Before we begin, I would like you to close your

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eyes and breathe in and out nice and deeply. Take

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a few seconds to inhale, and then hold your breath

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for a few seconds more, and then release and breathe out.

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Do this a few times if you need to. While

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you listen to the music and you listen to my voice,

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give yourself time to let your body relax and your

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mind settle. It's important that we allow time for us

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to feel safe, cozy, and completely at ease. And now

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it's time for this week's story.

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Speaker 2: At the far edge of a farm so wide that

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even the cows sometimes forgot where they had started, and

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the chickens behaved as though fences were only polite suggestions.

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There stood a cottage that had very clearly been built

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for two people, and then, through either optimism or a

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clerical error, inherited a third. The fields rolled outward in

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lazy green waves, broken by hedge barns that leaned companionably

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toward one another, windmills that creaked only when someone was

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trying to nap, and ponds full of ducks who had

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opinions about everything. Somewhere near the middle of it all

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squatted the cottage tucked beneath a crooked apple tree, whose

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branches leaned against the roof like an old friend who

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had arrived for tea and quietly decided to stay forever.

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The roof dipped, the chimney leaned, the door frame slanted

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just enough that visitors entered with a faint bow, whether

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they intended to or not. The cottage accepted this graciously.

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Inside lived three sisters who loved one another fiercely and

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argued with athletic commitments. The elder was Marabelle, who believed

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that most problems in life could be solved with shelves, lists,

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straight lines, and mornings that began with a sensible plan

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written in tidy handwriting. The middle sister was Tansy, who

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believed that most problems could be solved by experimentation, sudden inspiration,

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rearranging furniture, repainting something that had not asked to be repainted,

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or starting a new plan halfway through Marabelle's old one.

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The youngest was Clover, who believed firmly that most problems

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could be solved by petting them, collecting them, feeding them crumbs,

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or sitting on them until they stopped being problems. Sometimes

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she combined all four. The cottage itself contained one table

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that had once been square and now leaned toward roundness,

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two chairs that disagreed about height, and a stool that

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wobbled in a way that suggested it had tried very

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hard to be furniture and nearly succeeded. There was one

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cupboard that opened only when complimented, one stove that ran

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at two temperatures lukewarm, regret or heroic inferno, and a

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sink that dripped thoughtfully even when no one was using it.

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There were two beds. There were three sisters. This mathematical

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imbalance powered most of their daily conversations. Mornings began with

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negotiations that somehow always involved sacks. I slept on the

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floor yesterday, Marabelle announced one dawn, while extracting her sleeve

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from the kettle. That wasn't the floor. Tansy replied, that

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was the sack of grain. I thought the sack of

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grain was the one with feathers. No, that's the other sack.

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Clover blinked awake from beneath the table. I used the feathers.

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They escaped. Marabelle closed her eyes for a long, quiet

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moment and inhaled, as though practicing for mountain climbing. Breakfast

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brought new challenges. Someone always wanted the pans someone else

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was already using. Someone always stood up just as someone

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else leaned over. Someone always knocked over the mysterious jar

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of buttons that nobody remembered buying, but nobody dared to

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throw away. A chicken frequently wandered inside through the open

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window and inspected the situation with visible disappointment. On one

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particularly crowded morning, Marabelle tried to introduce a one person

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at a time policy for moving between the table and

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the sink. Tansy attempted to prove that this was unnecessary

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by demonstrating a dance like spinning maneuver that ended with

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three overturned cups and one extremely offended loaf of bread.

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Clover applauded and then tried to feed crumbs to the bread.

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Later that same day, Tansy decided the table would function

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better rotated ninety degrees. Marabelle rotated it back, Tansy rotated

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it again. Clover climbed underneath and pretended to be a

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mole until someone tripped over her. By noon, someone had

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spilled flour, someone had sat on a chicken, someone had

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misplaced the kettle, and someone had put the kettle inside

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the bread box without remembering why. The cottage itself seemed

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a tense in resportons, the walls creaking while the ceiling sighed,

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and the apple tree dropped a fruit onto the roof,

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as though attempting to file a formal complaint. That was

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when the knock came. It was not loud or demanding,

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but cautious, the sort of knock that suggested whoever was

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standing outside had once knocked too hard somewhere else and

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learned a valuable lesson. Marabelle opened the door, a careful

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inch on the doorstep, sat a dog, not a neat dog,

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not a small dog, A round, fluffy dog, the color

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of warm bread, with ears that drooped thoughtfully and eyes

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that gleamed like polished buttons. Its tail wagged in slow,

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confident sweeps, as though it had already decided the visit

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would go well. It was holding a stick. Good morning,

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said the dog. The sisters screamed, the chickens screamed. The

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cupboard dropped another spoon. When the noise faded, the dog

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politely asked whether it might come in. Marabelle refused, Clover agreed.

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Tansy said it was obvious. The dog blinked, remarked that

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the doorway was drafty, and stepped inside anyway, immediately filling

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most of the remaining floor. It introduced itself as Bramble,

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and added casually that it was magical. Tansy demanded proof.

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Bramble sneezed, the stool stopped wabbling. Clover demanded the cupboard

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be fixed. Bramble sniffed, causing the cupboard door to glide open,

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produce the missing kettle, and shut again with offended dignity.

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The sisters stared for a very long time. They then

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began speaking at once producing a torrent of complaints so

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dense that even the dog had trouble following them. Bramble

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raised a paw and insisted on tea first. Ten minutes later,

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everyone was sitting somewhere, including two sisters on sacks of oats,

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and Bramble using the third chair. With heroic confidence, he

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listened carefully, head tilting father and father to one side,

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before announcing that they were suffering from what he called

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a proximity problem. He explained that he could make the

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cottage larger. They leaned forward. He explained that he would not.

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They leaned back. Instead, he planned to take them somewhere.

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One bark later, the gate outside swung open, and a

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wooden cart rolled into view, pulled by nothing at all.

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After an argument about seating arrangements that lasted longer than

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the actual loading process, they climbed aboard the cart lifted

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into the air. Chickens applauded. They screamed again, though with

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slightly more awe this time. They soared over fields, fences, ponds, barns,

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startled cows orchards, streams, and one scarecrow that fainted dramatically.

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The cart eventually set them down in a valley so

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vast that Maraba Well forgot about shelving for nearly fifteen

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whole seconds, Trees rows like towers, mushrooms grew taller than doors,

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rivers curved lazily through fields of wildflowers. Bramble told them

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that this was what space felt like. Their first task

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was simply to walk in different directions for ten minutes

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and then come back. They made it three. Their second

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task involved crossing a wide stream without touching. They all

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stepped on the same rock. The third involved climbing a

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hill by three separate routes. They argued about which route

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belonged to whom and ended up on the same goat path. Later,

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they were asked to gather firewood without competing for the

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same stick, hate shade, without selecting the same patch of grass,

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and sit quietly without adjusting one another's posture. They failed magnificently.

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They slipped, they splashed, they laughed, they argued, they apologized.

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They tried again. In the afternoon. Bramble took them farther still,

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into a meadow where the grass hummed, into a canyon

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that echoed their voices until they burst into giggles and

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beside a lake so still that even Marabelle hesitated before

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rearranging anything. At dusk, they shared berries, watching the light fade,

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and slowly realized that nobody had counted who took more.

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Clover admitted that they bunched. Tansy admitted that they carried

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chaos with them. Marabelle admitted that perhaps shelves alone could

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not fix every human problem. Bramble wagged. They returned home

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at last, tired in the good way. The cottage still

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leaned and dipped and sighed. Bramble sneezed. A third bed

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slid from the wall. Shelves appeared, hooks sprouted, the ceiling lifted,

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the table stretched. He told them they had done the

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real work themselves. When they turned to thank him, he

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was gone. Only muddy, poor prints and a stick remained.

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They framed the stick. The chicken approved, and from that

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day forward the cottage was still small, still cozy, still full,

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but fre finally big enough. The sisters still argued, of course,

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but mostly now about who was responsible for keeping a

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bowl of water by the door in case a certain

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magical dog ever decided to visit again. At the far

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edge of a farm so wide that even the cows

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sometimes forgot where they had started, and the chickens behaved

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as though fences were only polite suggestions. There stood a

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cottage that had very clearly been built for two people,

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and then, through either optimism or a clerical error, inherited

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a third. The fields rolled outward in lazy green waves,

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broken by hedgerowss that leaned companionably toward one another, windmills

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that creaked only when someone was trying to nap, and

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ponds full of ducks who had opinions about everything. Somewhere

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near the middle of it all squatted. The cottage tucked

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beneath a crooked apple tree, whose branches leaned against the

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roof like an old friend who had arrived for tea

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and quietly decided to stay forever. The roof dipped, the

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chimney leaned, the door frame slanted just enough that visitors

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entered with a faint bow, whether they intended to or not.

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The cottage accepted this graciously. Inside lived three sisters who

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loved one another fiercely and argued with athletic commitments. The

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eldest was Marabelle, who believed that most problems in life

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could be solved with shelves lists straight lines and mornings

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that began with a sensible plan written in tidy handwriting.

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The middle sister was Tansy, who believed that most problems

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could be solved by experimentation, sudden inspiration, rearranging furniture, repainting

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something that had not asked to be repainted, or starting

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a new plan halfway through Marabelle's old one. The youngest

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was Clover, who believed firmly that most problems could be

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solved by petting them, collecting them, feeding them crumbs, or

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sitting on them until they stopped being problems. Sometimes she

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combined all four. The cottage itself contained one table that

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had once been square and now leaned toward roundness, two

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chairs that disagreed about height, and a stool that wobbled

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in a way that suggested it had tried very hard

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to be furniture and nearly succeeded. There was one cupboard

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that opened only when complimented, one stove that ran at

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two temperatures lukewarm, regret or heroic inferno, and a sink

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that dripped thoughtfully even when no one was using it.

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There were two beds. There were three sisters. This mathematical

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imbalance powered most of their daily conversations. Mornings began with

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negotiations that somehow always involved sacks. I slept on the

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floor yesterday, Marabelle announced one dawn, while extracting her sleeve

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from the kettle. That wasn't the floor. Tansy replied, that

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was the sack of grain. I thought the sack of

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grain was the one with feathers. No, that's the other sack.

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Clover blinked awake from beneath the table. I used the feathers.

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They escaped. Marabelle closed her eyes for a long, quiet

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moment and inhaled, as though practicing for mountain climbing. Breakfast

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brought new challenges. Someone always wanted the pans someone else

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was already using. Someone always stood up just as someone

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else leaned over. Someone always knocked over the mysterious jar

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of buttons that nobody remembered buying, but nobody dared to

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throw away. A chicken frequently wandered inside through the open

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window and inspected the situation with visible disappointment. On one

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particularly crowded morning, Marabelle tried to introduce a one per

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person at a time policy for moving between the table

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and the sink. Tansy attempted to prove that this was

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unnecessary by demonstrating a dance like spinning maneuver that ended

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with three overturned cups and one extremely offended loaf of bread.

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Clover applauded and then tried to feed crumbs to the bread.

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Later that same day, Tansy decided the table would function

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better rotated ninety degrees. Marabelle rotated it back, Tansy rotated

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it again. Clover climbed underneath and pretended to be a

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mole until someone tripped over her. By noon, someone had

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spilled flour, someone had sat on a chicken, someone had

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misplaced the kettle, and someone had put the kettle inside

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the bread box without remembering why. The cottage itself seemed

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a tense. In response, the wall falls creaking, while the

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ceiling sighed, and the apple tree dropped a fruit onto

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the roof, as though attempting to file a formal complaint.

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That was when the knock came. It was not loud

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or demanding, but cautious, the sort of knock that suggested

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whoever was standing outside had once knocked too hard somewhere

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else and learned a valuable lesson. Marabelle opened the door,

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a careful inch. On the doorstep sat a dog, Not

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a neat dog, not a small dog, a round, fluffy dog,

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the color of warm bread, with ears that drooped thoughtfully

235
00:21:46,440 --> 00:21:52,119
and eyes that gleamed like polished buttons. Its tail wagged

236
00:21:52,200 --> 00:21:56,720
in slow, confident sweeps, as though it had already decided

237
00:21:56,759 --> 00:22:00,720
the visit would go well. It was holding a stick.

238
00:22:02,200 --> 00:22:08,680
Good morning, said the dog. The sisters screamed, the chickens screamed.

239
00:22:09,559 --> 00:22:14,319
The cupboard dropped another spoon. When the noise faded, the

240
00:22:14,359 --> 00:22:19,480
dog politely asked whether it might come in. Marabelle refused,

241
00:22:20,599 --> 00:22:28,240
Clover agreed. Tansy said it was obvious. The dog blinked,

242
00:22:28,720 --> 00:22:33,319
remarked that the doorway was drafty, and stepped inside anyway,

243
00:22:33,640 --> 00:22:39,400
immediately filling most of the remaining floor. It introduced itself

244
00:22:39,480 --> 00:22:44,799
as Bramble, and added casually that it was magical. Tansy

245
00:22:45,000 --> 00:22:53,240
demanded proof. Bramble sneezed, the stool stopped wabbling. Clover demanded

246
00:22:53,279 --> 00:22:59,039
the cupboard be fixed. Bramble sniffed, causing the cupboard door

247
00:22:59,119 --> 00:23:03,519
to glide open, produced the missing kettle, and shot again

248
00:23:03,640 --> 00:23:09,559
with offended dignity. The sisters stared for a very long time.

249
00:23:10,880 --> 00:23:15,160
They then began speaking at once, producing a torrent of

250
00:23:15,240 --> 00:23:20,640
complaints so dense that even the dog had trouble following them.

251
00:23:21,279 --> 00:23:27,759
Bramble raised a paw and insisted on tea first. Ten

252
00:23:27,839 --> 00:23:33,039
minutes later, everyone was sitting somewhere, including two sisters on

253
00:23:33,279 --> 00:23:36,920
sacks of oats, and Bramble using the third chair. With

254
00:23:37,039 --> 00:23:44,000
heroic confidence, he listened carefully, head tilting father and father

255
00:23:44,200 --> 00:23:48,599
to one side, before announcing that they were suffering from

256
00:23:48,720 --> 00:23:54,319
what he called a proximity problem. He explained that he

257
00:23:54,400 --> 00:24:01,119
could make the cottage larger. They leaned forward. He explained

258
00:24:01,440 --> 00:24:06,880
that he would not. They leaned back. Instead, he planned

259
00:24:06,880 --> 00:24:12,319
to take them somewhere. One bark later, the gate outside

260
00:24:12,480 --> 00:24:17,039
swung open, and a wooden cart rolled into view, pulled

261
00:24:17,119 --> 00:24:22,039
by nothing at all. After an argument about seating arrangements

262
00:24:22,039 --> 00:24:26,400
that lasted longer than the actual loading process, they climbed

263
00:24:26,440 --> 00:24:34,759
aboard the cart lifted into the air. Chickens applauded. They

264
00:24:34,920 --> 00:24:40,839
screamed again, though with slightly more awe this time. They

265
00:24:40,920 --> 00:24:48,960
soared over fields, fences, ponds, barns, startled cows orchards, streams,

266
00:24:49,160 --> 00:24:55,559
and one scarecrow that fainted dramatically. The cart eventually set

267
00:24:55,599 --> 00:24:59,480
them down in a valley so vast that Marabelle forgot

268
00:24:59,519 --> 00:25:05,519
about sh shelving for nearly fifteen hole seconds, trees rows

269
00:25:05,759 --> 00:25:11,799
like towers, mushrooms grew taller than doors, rivers curved lazily

270
00:25:12,000 --> 00:25:17,680
through fields of wildflowers. Bramble told them that this was

271
00:25:17,759 --> 00:25:23,119
what space felt like. Their first task was simply to

272
00:25:23,279 --> 00:25:27,119
walk in different directions for ten minutes and then come back.

273
00:25:28,119 --> 00:25:33,559
They made it three. Their second task involved crossing a

274
00:25:33,640 --> 00:25:39,480
wide stream without touching. They all stepped on the same rock.

275
00:25:40,480 --> 00:25:45,279
The third involved climbing a hill by three separate routes.

276
00:25:46,359 --> 00:25:50,359
They argued about which route belonged to whom and ended

277
00:25:50,440 --> 00:25:54,759
up on the same goat path. Later, they were asked

278
00:25:54,759 --> 00:25:59,079
to gather firewood without competing for the same stick, locate

279
00:25:59,200 --> 00:26:02,960
shade without selecting the same patch of grass, and sit

280
00:26:03,119 --> 00:26:10,279
quietly without adjusting one another's posture. They failed magnificently. They slipped,

281
00:26:11,079 --> 00:26:19,920
they splashed, they laughed, they argued, they apologized. They tried again.

282
00:26:21,240 --> 00:26:25,079
In the afternoon. Bramble took them farther still into a

283
00:26:25,200 --> 00:26:28,759
meadow where the grass hummed into a canyon that echoed

284
00:26:28,799 --> 00:26:32,680
their voices until they burst into giggles and beside a

285
00:26:32,799 --> 00:26:39,359
lake so still that even Marabelle hesitated before rearranging anything.

286
00:26:40,559 --> 00:26:44,599
At dusk, they shared berries, watching the light fade, and

287
00:26:44,839 --> 00:26:50,119
slowly realized that nobody had counted who took more. Clover

288
00:26:50,519 --> 00:26:56,279
admitted that they bunched. Tansy admitted that they carried chaos

289
00:26:56,319 --> 00:27:01,599
with them. Marabelle admitted that perhaps shelves alone could not

290
00:27:01,880 --> 00:27:09,640
fix every human problem. Bramble wagged. They returned home at last,

291
00:27:10,200 --> 00:27:14,480
tired in the good way. The cottage still leaned and

292
00:27:14,519 --> 00:27:20,319
dipped and sighed. Bramble sneezed. A third bed slid from

293
00:27:20,400 --> 00:27:29,119
the wall. Shelves appeared, hooks sprouted, the ceiling lifted, the

294
00:27:29,240 --> 00:27:34,119
table stretched. He told them they had done the real

295
00:27:34,240 --> 00:27:40,200
work themselves. When they turned to thank him, he was gone.

296
00:27:40,599 --> 00:27:45,880
Only muddy, poor prints and a stick remained. They framed

297
00:27:45,920 --> 00:27:51,400
the stick. The chicken approved, and from that day forward

298
00:27:51,680 --> 00:27:58,599
the cottage was still small, still cozy, still full, but

299
00:27:58,799 --> 00:28:05,839
finally big enough. The sisters still argued, of course, but

300
00:28:06,039 --> 00:28:10,440
mostly now about who was responsible for keeping a bowl

301
00:28:10,480 --> 00:28:14,519
of water by the door in case a certain magical

302
00:28:14,640 --> 00:28:30,680
dog ever decided to visit again at the far edge

303
00:28:30,720 --> 00:28:34,880
of a farm, so wide that even the cows sometimes

304
00:28:34,920 --> 00:28:39,279
forgot where they had started, and the chickens behaved as

305
00:28:39,319 --> 00:28:44,000
though fences were only polite suggestions. There stood a cottage

306
00:28:44,039 --> 00:28:48,039
that had very clearly been built for two people, and then,

307
00:28:48,400 --> 00:28:53,519
through either optimism or a clerical error, inherited a third.

308
00:28:54,599 --> 00:29:00,000
The fields rolled outward in lazy green waves, broken by hedgerows,

309
00:29:00,839 --> 00:29:07,079
barns that leaned companionably toward one another, windmills that creaked

310
00:29:07,279 --> 00:29:12,079
only when someone was trying to nap, and ponds full

311
00:29:12,119 --> 00:29:17,759
of ducks who had opinions about everything. Somewhere near the

312
00:29:17,799 --> 00:29:22,160
middle of it all squatted the cottage tucked beneath a

313
00:29:22,279 --> 00:29:27,480
crooked apple tree, whose branches leaned against the roof like

314
00:29:27,519 --> 00:29:31,680
an old friend who had arrived for tea and quietly

315
00:29:31,759 --> 00:29:37,319
decided to stay forever. The roof dipped, the chimney leaned,

316
00:29:37,599 --> 00:29:42,000
the doorframe slanted just enough that visitors entered with a

317
00:29:42,039 --> 00:29:47,279
faint bow, whether they intended to or not. The cottage

318
00:29:47,440 --> 00:29:54,160
accepted this graciously. Inside lived three sisters who loved one

319
00:29:54,160 --> 00:30:00,839
another fiercely and argued with athletic commitments. The eldest was Marabelle,

320
00:30:00,960 --> 00:30:04,279
who believed that most problems in life could be solved

321
00:30:04,319 --> 00:30:08,920
with shelves, lists, straight lines, and mornings that began with

322
00:30:09,000 --> 00:30:14,079
a sensible plan written in tidy handwriting. The middle sister

323
00:30:14,519 --> 00:30:18,000
was Tansy, who believed that most problems could be solved

324
00:30:18,000 --> 00:30:24,440
by experimentation, sudden inspiration, rearranging furniture, repainting something that had

325
00:30:24,480 --> 00:30:27,720
not asked to be repainted, or starting a new plan

326
00:30:28,079 --> 00:30:33,400
halfway through Marabell's old one. The youngest was Clover, who

327
00:30:33,440 --> 00:30:37,240
believed firmly that most problems could be solved by petting them,

328
00:30:37,480 --> 00:30:41,519
collecting them, feeding them crumbs, or sitting on them until

329
00:30:41,519 --> 00:30:48,079
they stopped being problems. Sometimes she combined all four. The

330
00:30:48,119 --> 00:30:52,640
cottage itself contained one table that had once been square

331
00:30:52,839 --> 00:30:57,680
and now leaned toward roundness, two chairs that disagreed about height,

332
00:30:57,960 --> 00:31:01,000
and a stool that wabbled in a way that suggested

333
00:31:01,160 --> 00:31:06,480
it had tried very hard to be furniture and nearly succeeded.

334
00:31:07,680 --> 00:31:11,960
There was one cupboard that opened only when complimented, one

335
00:31:12,000 --> 00:31:18,160
stove that ran at two temperatures lukewarm regret or heroic inferno,

336
00:31:18,599 --> 00:31:21,720
and a sink that dripped thoughtfully even when no one

337
00:31:21,839 --> 00:31:26,599
was using it. There were two beds. There were three sisters.

338
00:31:28,119 --> 00:31:36,240
This mathematical imbalance powered most of their daily conversations. Mornings

339
00:31:36,319 --> 00:31:43,359
began with negotiations that somehow always involved sacks. I slept

340
00:31:43,400 --> 00:31:48,759
on the floor yesterday, Marabelle announced one dawn, while extracting

341
00:31:48,839 --> 00:31:54,200
her sleeve from the kettle. That wasn't the floor. Tansy replied,

342
00:31:54,440 --> 00:31:58,440
that was the sack of grain. I thought the sack

343
00:31:58,480 --> 00:32:02,839
of grain was the one with feather No, that's the

344
00:32:02,920 --> 00:32:08,119
other sack. Clover blinked awake from beneath the table. I

345
00:32:08,359 --> 00:32:13,920
used the feathers. They escaped. Marabelle closed her eyes for

346
00:32:14,000 --> 00:32:19,000
a long, quiet moment and inhaled, as though practicing for

347
00:32:19,200 --> 00:32:26,200
mountain climbing. Breakfast brought new challenges. Someone always wanted the

348
00:32:26,319 --> 00:32:31,279
pans someone else was already using. Someone always stood up

349
00:32:31,599 --> 00:32:36,400
just as someone else leaned over. Someone always knocked over

350
00:32:36,519 --> 00:32:41,279
the mysterious jar of buttons that nobody remembered buying, but

351
00:32:41,480 --> 00:32:47,200
nobody dared to throw away. A chicken frequently wandered inside

352
00:32:47,400 --> 00:32:53,200
through the open window and inspected the situation with visible disappointment.

353
00:32:54,480 --> 00:33:00,160
On one particularly crowded morning, Marabelle tried to introduce a

354
00:33:00,359 --> 00:33:04,200
one person at a time policy for moving between the

355
00:33:04,279 --> 00:33:08,960
table and the sink. Tansy attempted to prove that this

356
00:33:09,160 --> 00:33:13,720
was unnecessary by demonstrating a dance like spinning maneuver that

357
00:33:13,920 --> 00:33:18,799
ended with three overturned cups and one extremely offended loaf

358
00:33:18,880 --> 00:33:23,960
of bread. Clover applauded and then tried to feed crumbs

359
00:33:24,000 --> 00:33:28,559
to the bread. Later that same day, Tansy decided the

360
00:33:28,599 --> 00:33:34,319
table would function better rotated ninety degrees. Marabelle rotated it back,

361
00:33:34,519 --> 00:33:39,039
Tansy rotated it again. Clover climbed underneath and pretended to

362
00:33:39,079 --> 00:33:44,519
be a mole until someone tripped over her. By noon,

363
00:33:44,839 --> 00:33:48,440
someone had spilled flour, someone had sat on a chicken,

364
00:33:48,759 --> 00:33:52,319
someone had misplaced the kettle, and someone had put the

365
00:33:52,400 --> 00:33:57,799
kettle inside the bread box without remembering why. The cottage

366
00:33:57,839 --> 00:34:02,039
itself seemed to tense in response, the walls creaking while

367
00:34:02,079 --> 00:34:05,200
the ceiling sighed, and the apple tree dropped a fruit

368
00:34:05,400 --> 00:34:09,000
onto the roof, as though attempting to file a formal complaint.

369
00:34:09,960 --> 00:34:13,679
That was when the knock came. It was not loud

370
00:34:13,920 --> 00:34:18,559
or demanding, but cautious, the sort of knock that suggested

371
00:34:18,599 --> 00:34:22,960
whoever was standing outside had once knocked too hard somewhere

372
00:34:22,960 --> 00:34:28,119
else and learned a valuable lesson. Marabelle opened the door

373
00:34:28,360 --> 00:34:34,840
a careful inch. On the doorstep sat a dog, Not

374
00:34:35,199 --> 00:34:42,320
a neat dog, not a small dog, a round, fluffy dog,

375
00:34:42,440 --> 00:34:47,079
the color of warm bread, with ears that drooped thoughtfully

376
00:34:47,320 --> 00:34:53,000
and eyes that gleamed like polished buttons. Its tail wagged

377
00:34:53,039 --> 00:34:57,559
in slow, confident sweeps, as though it had already decided

378
00:34:57,599 --> 00:35:03,719
the visit would go well. Holding a stick. Good morning,

379
00:35:04,199 --> 00:35:10,519
said the dog. The sisters screamed, the chicken screamed. The

380
00:35:10,559 --> 00:35:15,480
cupboard dropped another spoon. When the noise faded, the dog

381
00:35:15,559 --> 00:35:22,559
politely asked whether it might come in. Marabelle refused, Clover agreed.

382
00:35:23,639 --> 00:35:30,320
Tansy said it was obvious. The dog blinked, remarked that

383
00:35:30,400 --> 00:35:35,840
the doorway was drafty, and stepped inside anyway, immediately filling

384
00:35:36,039 --> 00:35:41,159
most of the remaining floor. It introduced itself as Bramble,

385
00:35:41,360 --> 00:35:47,079
and added casually that it was magical. Tansy demanded proof.

386
00:35:48,159 --> 00:35:54,760
Bramble sneezed, the stool stopped wabbling. Clover demanded the cupboard

387
00:35:54,840 --> 00:36:00,119
be fixed. Bramble sniffed, causing the cupboard door to to

388
00:36:00,159 --> 00:36:04,559
glide open, produce the missing kettle, and shot again with

389
00:36:04,679 --> 00:36:10,400
offended dignity. The sisters stared for a very long time.

390
00:36:11,719 --> 00:36:16,000
They then began speaking at once, producing a torrent of

391
00:36:16,119 --> 00:36:21,360
complaints so dense that even the dog had trouble following them.

392
00:36:22,119 --> 00:36:28,639
Bramble raised a poor and insisted on tea first. Ten

393
00:36:28,679 --> 00:36:33,920
minutes later, everyone was sitting somewhere, including two sisters on

394
00:36:34,119 --> 00:36:37,760
sacks of oats, and Bramble using the third chair. With

395
00:36:37,880 --> 00:36:44,880
heroic confidence, he listened carefully, head tilting father and father

396
00:36:45,079 --> 00:36:49,519
to one side, before announcing that they were suffering from

397
00:36:49,559 --> 00:36:55,199
what he called a proximity problem. He explained that he

398
00:36:55,280 --> 00:37:02,000
could make the cottage larger. They leaned forward. He explained

399
00:37:02,320 --> 00:37:07,679
that he would not. They leaned back. Instead, he planned

400
00:37:07,760 --> 00:37:13,159
to take them somewhere. One bark later, the gate outside

401
00:37:13,360 --> 00:37:17,880
swung open, and a wooden cart rolled into view, pulled

402
00:37:17,960 --> 00:37:22,880
by nothing at all. After an argument about seating arrangements

403
00:37:22,920 --> 00:37:27,280
that lasted longer than the actual loading process, they climbed

404
00:37:27,280 --> 00:37:35,639
aboard the cart lifted into the air. Chickens applauded. They

405
00:37:35,760 --> 00:37:41,679
screamed again, though with slightly more awe this time. They

406
00:37:41,800 --> 00:37:49,800
soared over fields, fences, ponds, barns, startled cows orchards, streams,

407
00:37:50,000 --> 00:37:56,400
and one scarecrow that fainted dramatically. The cart eventually set

408
00:37:56,440 --> 00:38:00,360
them down in a valley so vast that Marabelle forgot

409
00:38:00,400 --> 00:38:07,480
about shelving For nearly fifteen whole seconds, trees, rows like towers,

410
00:38:07,800 --> 00:38:13,679
mushrooms grew taller than doors, Rivers curved lazily through fields

411
00:38:13,760 --> 00:38:19,440
of wildflowers. Bramble told them that this was what space

412
00:38:19,679 --> 00:38:24,559
felt like. Their first task was simply to walk in

413
00:38:24,639 --> 00:38:29,159
different directions for ten minutes and then come back. They

414
00:38:29,239 --> 00:38:34,880
made it three. Their second task involved crossing a wide

415
00:38:34,960 --> 00:38:40,360
stream without touching. They all stepped on the same rock.

416
00:38:41,320 --> 00:38:46,159
The third involved climbing a hill by three separate routes.

417
00:38:47,199 --> 00:38:51,199
They argued about which route belonged to whom and ended

418
00:38:51,320 --> 00:38:55,599
up on the same goat path. Later, they were asked

419
00:38:55,599 --> 00:38:59,880
to gather firewood without competing for the same stick, locate

420
00:39:00,119 --> 00:39:03,840
shade without selecting the same patch of grass, and sit

421
00:39:04,000 --> 00:39:11,119
quietly without adjusting one another's posture. They failed magnificently. They slipped,

422
00:39:11,960 --> 00:39:20,760
they splashed, they laughed, they argued, they apologized. They tried again.

423
00:39:22,079 --> 00:39:25,960
In the afternoon. Bramble took them farther still into a

424
00:39:26,039 --> 00:39:29,639
meadow where the grass hummed into a canyon that echoed

425
00:39:29,639 --> 00:39:33,519
their voices until they burst into giggles and beside a

426
00:39:33,639 --> 00:39:40,199
lake so still that even Marabelle hesitated before rearranging anything.

427
00:39:41,400 --> 00:39:45,440
At dusk, they shared berries, watching the light fade, and

428
00:39:45,679 --> 00:39:50,960
slowly realized that nobody had counted. Who took more. Clover

429
00:39:51,400 --> 00:39:57,159
admitted that they bunched. Tansy admitted that they carried chaos

430
00:39:57,199 --> 00:40:02,480
with them. Marabelle admitted that perhaps shelves alone could not

431
00:40:02,719 --> 00:40:10,480
fix every human problem. Bramble wagged. They returned home at last,

432
00:40:11,039 --> 00:40:15,320
tired in the good way. The cottage still leaned and

433
00:40:15,400 --> 00:40:21,239
dipped and sighed. Bramble sneezed. A third bed slid from

434
00:40:21,239 --> 00:40:30,000
the wall, shelves appeared, hooks sprouted, the ceiling lifted, the

435
00:40:30,119 --> 00:40:34,960
table stretched. He told them they had done the real

436
00:40:35,079 --> 00:40:41,440
work themselves. When they turned to thank him, he was gone.

437
00:40:41,440 --> 00:40:46,760
Only muddy, poor prints and a stick remained. They framed

438
00:40:46,760 --> 00:40:52,320
the stick. The chicken approved, and from that day forward

439
00:40:52,519 --> 00:40:59,440
the cottage was still small, still cozy, still full, but

440
00:40:59,599 --> 00:41:06,679
finally big enough. The sisters still argued, of course, but

441
00:41:06,880 --> 00:41:11,280
mostly now about who was responsible for keeping a bowl

442
00:41:11,320 --> 00:41:15,360
of water by the door in case a certain magical

443
00:41:15,519 --> 00:42:25,079
dog ever decided to visit again. Name Si