Hipy papy bthuthday to A.A. Milne

“I might have known,”

  said Eeyore. 

“After all, one can’t complain. 

  I have my friends. Somebody

  spoke to me only yesterday.

  And was it last week or the week before

  that Rabbit bumped into me and

  said ‘Bother!’?

  The Social Round. Always something going on.” 

―A.A. Milne, Winnie-the-Pooh

Winnie-the-Pooh

and Eeyore, too

were more than just part

of my childhood.

They brightened my life

when I was an Eeyore

and made me laugh

when I felt like Pooh.

Of course, Pooh didn't always feel great, did he? He had his moments, as I did.

"I don’t feel very much like Pooh today," said Pooh.
"There there," said Piglet. "I’ll bring you tea and honey until you do." 

― A.A. Milne, Winnie-the-Pooh

But even Eeyore

had a birthday party.

Whereat a good time

was had by all,

except, quite

possibly, Eeyore.

"What I like doing best is Nothing."
"How do you do Nothing?" asked Pooh after he had wondered for a long time.
"Well, it's when people call out at you just as you're going off to do it, 'What are you going to do, Christopher Robin?' and you say, 'Oh, Nothing,' and then you go and do it. It means just going along, listening to all the things you can't hear, and not bothering."
"Oh!" said Pooh. 

― A.A. Milne, Winnie-the-Pooh

None of it would have happened

(of course)

if it hadn't been for a boy

named Christopher Robin,

whose father, A.A. Milne,

a writer who had written

in several styles

and more than one genre,

started to tell him stories

about his bear, Winnie-the-Pooh,

and his other toy animals,

Piglet, Eeyore, Rabbit, Owl,

Tigger, Kanga, Baby Roo,

all of rabbit's relatives,

and a Heffalump. Truly.

“Some people care too much. I think it's called love.” 

― A.A. Milne, Winnie-the-Pooh

A.A. Milne
1882-1956

It is January now, the birth month of three well-known fantasy writers, one of whom is A.A. Milne, and the other two of whom are Lewis Carroll and J.R.R Tolkein. At the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Kerry has asked Toads and contributors to consider one of these writers, and my first choice—in fact, my only choice—is the man who put Winnie-the-Pooh into my life, long before Walt Disney took Pooh and changed him. I've always loved Pooh, in the old books, with the old drawings by E.H. Shepard, whose pencil sketches were, to me, perfectly perfect. I am thrilled that I had read Milne's books many times before he died in 1956. I imagined, at the age of 10, that he somehow knew I was a dedicated fan. Happy Birthday, Mr. Milne.