The Mysteriously Mutating Moth

I've never knit anything that had multiple personalities before. Moth seems to morph into odd objects while my back is turned. For example, the other day we had a guest who wanted to see my knitting. I fished Moth out of the bar sink (where current projects reside.) "Oh," she said. "I though that was a head of lettuce."

Before the vegetable episode, Roy and I were poking at Moth and decided that it bore a remarkable resemblance to a coral reef. Of course, I couldn't stop with just an offhand remark, so here, for your reading pleasure, is a new fairy tale:

The Lonely Reef

Once upon a time there was a coral reef named Daphne. Although she was nicely formed and quite gregarious, no sea creature called Daphne home. She sat sadly on the sand, watching flocks, schools, and pods swim by, nobody even stopping to bubble a quick hello.


One day Daphne was sitting quietly in a pool of sunlight, when suddenly, a huge dark shape cast an ominous shadow over the sea bottom, and an thunderous thrumming noise kicked up a bit of current. Daphne rolled a bit to her left--a good thing--because just then, a hail of pointy little sticks came floating down from the overhanging shadow.

A few of the pointy objects stuck in her seaweed tresses, though, and no amount of rolling around would dislodge them.

"Ridiculous," said Daphne to herself. "I look like a half-bald sea urchin."


A minute later, the shadow and the thrum disappeared into the distant sea. The return of the sunlight also brought a pair of octopi into view.

"Hey, Edgar," the red octopus said, "Look at this silly coral reef! She looks like a half-bald sea urchin."

Edgar poked at Daphne, snickering a bit. "Hello Gorgeous," he said. "Wanna play ball?"



The next thing Daphne knew, she was the main event in a game of reefball.


Already feeling sorry for herself, what with being ignored for millennia and more recently, being skewered by boat trash, Daphne started to cry.

"Hey," Edgar said gently, "We were just having a bit of fun. Ernie, better put her down before we traumatize all those little polyps."

Ernie carefully laid Daphne back on the sand. "What's the matter, darling?"

Daphne wiped her eyes with a piece of kelp. "Nobody loves me," she sobbed. "Nobody wants to live with me. Everybody swims by and ignores me. I tried putting out little signs and offering free sea biscuits and the services of a Decorator crab. I hired a publicist. I took out ads in Newsreef magazine. And not a single taker.

"Hmm., " mused Ernie. "I think I know what the problem is, dear. I think you are just wound too tight. And I have the perfect solution."

Ernie and Edgar removed the pointy objects from Daphne's midsection.

"That tickles, " giggled Daphne. She started rolling around the sand in an effort to escape the two octopi. As she did so, Ernie and Edgar notices little trails of thready polyps unwinding from the central reef core.

And of course, both octopi immediately thought of Fleegle, their knitting instructor, who had just demonstrated the proper technique for reef knitting a few days before.

Edgar signaled to Ernie to keep up the tickling...


...as he picked up the polyp thread and began casting on.

Edgar kept tickling Daphne, Ernie segued into Coral stitch, and pretty soon, Daphne had transformed from an uptight globule into a relaxed, expansive, inviting carpet of coral.


"Wow," Daphne exclaimed. "I have never felt so relaxed! Thanks, guys!"

Ernie and Edgar shook tentacles (a particularly complex operation) and were about to mosey off for a large shore dinner when they spied a school of squirt fish, each one trailing a large clamcase. (Erm, the clamcases are the same color as Daphne, which is why you can't see them in the picture.)



Ernie signaled them over. "Looking for cheap real estate, guys?" He gestured towards Daphne, who was now sprawled over a good section of the visible sandy floor.

"Yeah," the frillfin goby replied. "We used to swim over there (he finned over his shoulder), but a school of triggerfish moved in and we all started looking like targets." The polka-dot batfish looked particularly depressed during this exchange.

His buddies had drifted over to Daphne and were engaged playing hide and seek among her bumps.


"Hey look," one of them exclaimed. "Sunken Treasure!"


The rest of the group goggled the Neiblings, dropped their clamcases and began unpacking.

Daphne giggled.

The next day a couple of trumpetfish moved in, bringing a herd of cowfish to graze upon Daphne's lush bubbleweed. Trumpetfish being rather prone to, um, loudly trumpeting about this and that, quickly spread the word about the luxurious accomodations (Neiblings included! Plenty of algae!).

It wasn't long before Daphne became the most popular reef spot in that section of the ocean.


And she, Edgar, Ernie, and the rest of the gang lived happily ever after.

The End