Harold is a Pawn. A Chess piece.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Some more New Folks
This is Bertha Ledbetter. you can find her for sale on the Lemon Poppy Seeds site. She is holding a Chicken. 
This is Sunny. A dove on a vintage Spool. I am not sure where she will be posted yet.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
New Folks
This is Clara, she is inspired by the geese on my friend Debra's blog Sparrowgrass.
This is Pricilla Mooney, she's from the Blue Lagoony.
This is Willa. I am hoping to have her on Lemon Poppy seeds. That is if I ever get on Lemon Poppy Seeds. I am working on it. I like her teeth.Saturday, March 7, 2009
War
In the Kitchen of the Baggaraggs, everyone was talking at once. There were suggestions about what to do, how to fight, and bits and pieces of past glories that were offered to substantiate battle plans. Grace Tenderstitch tried to patiently listen to every suggestion, but inside her self there was a battle raging that was as real as the one that was about to be fought at the Garden Gate. She looked at all of her sweet companions and felt that she would give up any of her possessions in order to keep them safe. She would not sacrifice any of them for a sewing machine.
Murray looked up at his mistress' face and saw the consternation written there. "What are you thinking Grace?" he said.
"I am thinking that they can have the Thread Pusher...I don't care, I can get another one. I would not like to lose any of you in a Battle over a simple sewing Machine."
"And than what Grace?" asked Murray. "And then what do they take from you?"
"Already they have invaded our woods, and have harmed you and Murray," added Swain.
"Will we allow them to Live here in the Baggaraggs? You know they will try to take our home, and drive us out...filthy rats." This from Ernie the Weasel.
"No Grace, we cannot turn back now...this thing is decided for us," Murray finished.
Grace Tenderstitch Paused and looked around. Her heart was beating very fast, she swallowed to still it, as she said "I will go and try to talk to them."
"There is no talking Grace, they did not come here to ask for help. They did not come to find out what could be done to assist their People. They did not come to open a Bakery, Pie-rats or no. They came to take our Thread Pusher and to inhabit our lands. I think they have come for the very Baggaraggs itself," said Murray angrily.
Deep inside Grace there came a realization. The thought opened itself like a curtain pulled back to reveal a bright morning. And the thought was this: There are some things that cannot be appeased. There would be no making this right, there would be no negotiating, no peace. The moment was hugely uncomfortable for her. There were no words that would fix this, no actions to repair it. This was something ugly that could not be made even a tiny bit beautiful. She feared the outcome for all of them.
There was the sound of a cry at the Garden Gate followed by "Attack, Attack!"
There was the call of Tisdales Shell, as Grace Tenderstitch rushed forward to the door and out into the Garden. She hastily grabbed a flat shovel as she went. Her companions scrambled to her aid and Murray charged ahead, growling and barking furiously.
"Get back, Get back," she cried as the rats swarmed toward her and her companions. The weasels and the badgers were fighting hand to hand , as the Pie-rats tried to gain the inner garden.
Grace rushed the Gate with her shovel swinging wildly, Sweeping rats into an arc in the air, as she went. She was yelling at times almost incoherently, but mostly what she screamed was "Get out Get out." She was smashing and swinging the shovel with a horrible force, so that all around her gave her a wide birth, so as not to be tossed high into the air with a smack of the shovel.
Swain the Cat, fought a group of rats who could danced warily around the end of his deadly skewer. Murray's teeth found a home in the backs of some who were fool hearty enough to try him.
And in the Darkness overhead, there came a scream of warning, as Windslow swept down with Maybell upon his back. Down he came with others of his kind, bringing Talons of Death. Grabbing, snatching, clutching, their silent wings cupping and covering their deadly business, as the rats screamed and tried to flee.
Murray looked up at his mistress' face and saw the consternation written there. "What are you thinking Grace?" he said.
"I am thinking that they can have the Thread Pusher...I don't care, I can get another one. I would not like to lose any of you in a Battle over a simple sewing Machine."
"And than what Grace?" asked Murray. "And then what do they take from you?"
"Already they have invaded our woods, and have harmed you and Murray," added Swain.
"Will we allow them to Live here in the Baggaraggs? You know they will try to take our home, and drive us out...filthy rats." This from Ernie the Weasel.
"No Grace, we cannot turn back now...this thing is decided for us," Murray finished.
Grace Tenderstitch Paused and looked around. Her heart was beating very fast, she swallowed to still it, as she said "I will go and try to talk to them."
"There is no talking Grace, they did not come here to ask for help. They did not come to find out what could be done to assist their People. They did not come to open a Bakery, Pie-rats or no. They came to take our Thread Pusher and to inhabit our lands. I think they have come for the very Baggaraggs itself," said Murray angrily.
Deep inside Grace there came a realization. The thought opened itself like a curtain pulled back to reveal a bright morning. And the thought was this: There are some things that cannot be appeased. There would be no making this right, there would be no negotiating, no peace. The moment was hugely uncomfortable for her. There were no words that would fix this, no actions to repair it. This was something ugly that could not be made even a tiny bit beautiful. She feared the outcome for all of them.
There was the sound of a cry at the Garden Gate followed by "Attack, Attack!"
There was the call of Tisdales Shell, as Grace Tenderstitch rushed forward to the door and out into the Garden. She hastily grabbed a flat shovel as she went. Her companions scrambled to her aid and Murray charged ahead, growling and barking furiously.
"Get back, Get back," she cried as the rats swarmed toward her and her companions. The weasels and the badgers were fighting hand to hand , as the Pie-rats tried to gain the inner garden.
Grace rushed the Gate with her shovel swinging wildly, Sweeping rats into an arc in the air, as she went. She was yelling at times almost incoherently, but mostly what she screamed was "Get out Get out." She was smashing and swinging the shovel with a horrible force, so that all around her gave her a wide birth, so as not to be tossed high into the air with a smack of the shovel.
Swain the Cat, fought a group of rats who could danced warily around the end of his deadly skewer. Murray's teeth found a home in the backs of some who were fool hearty enough to try him.
And in the Darkness overhead, there came a scream of warning, as Windslow swept down with Maybell upon his back. Down he came with others of his kind, bringing Talons of Death. Grabbing, snatching, clutching, their silent wings cupping and covering their deadly business, as the rats screamed and tried to flee.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
The Sunshine and the SHADOW
I have no story in me today. I hate having to surrender my time to go to the doctors, and my creativity in worry that there might be something wrong with my physical body that keeps me from doing what I love. I do not willingly surrender my time to appointments and Manatory meetings. I also do not like negativity, and this is not like me, but I feel tired and worried. Tomorrow will be better.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Sunday, March 1, 2009
The Forest at Night
The night pressed in. If you have ever been in the Forest at night you are aware that the dark is very black and that the stars, when you see them are wondrously bright. If you have walked in the woods at night, you may have been touched by dark hands that emerge under the cover of Night, or momentarily trapped by a cobweb, as your recoil to brush it away. You cannot go there without a source of Light. You simply cannot pass safely. The Forest has a feeling. It claims the darkness for its own, as if to carry on a business that intruders may not see. Maybe it just wants a little privacy.
If the shadows were living things they would not have liked the intrusion of The Pie-rats into their Nightly rituals. They would have rustled the leaves into whirlwinds, and blown them high into the tops of the trees. They would have stolen around the branches with cold breath, frosting the tips where the Pie-rats hung, clinging, cold and waiting for a dawn attack. And they would have knitted webs that no Spider ever spun, to blanket the unsuspecting with a creepy coil of mossy threads.
Big Punzee waited in the top of a maple with the one legged leader of the Pie-rats secured to her back. She did not like the woods, the night, or the cold Breath of the Shadowy wind.
There was a whisper, then a cry from a branch below them, as an Owl plucked a Pie-rat from its hold on the limb. It was off, without a sound, the Pie-rat tightly clutched in Talons that seemed too big, too sharp, and deadly.
"Oie, Oie...did you see that?" This from Big Punzee, as she started to shinny backward on the branch. "I am gettin' us out of here before we get snatched," said Big Punzee. Peg-leg, her voice muffled, cried to the others around her, "Get down from the trees, Their are OWLS about!"
Some heard, some did not and some suffered the same fate as the first, Quietly plucked from a branch with only the whisper of a wing, softly, softly bringing the Talons of death.
"We cannot wait until the dawn to attack," said Peg-leg. "We will all be eaten by those nasty Owls. We have to change our plans and attack, or else hide until the dawn."
As the Pie-rats regrouped on the forest floor, there were continued cries overhead from Pie-rats who had not escaped.
"It is dreadful dark in this woods," said Big Punzee.
"There is a wicked feeling here,"acknowledged another rat named Lucky Lucy.
"Quiet that talk," blasted Peg-leg. "Stow IT!" Her nerves were on edge too.
They followed Big Punzee, almost blindly to the forest edge, where the Lights from the windows of the Baggaraggs, were a blur in the cold night.
"There they is , snug as bugs," whispered Lucky Lucy, gesturing towards the Baggaraggs.
"I say we storm them," said another rat named Angus.
"Hush," said Big Punzee, "Give the Peg a Chance to think."
And so they huddled in the shadows, some burrowed in the leaves, as the first snow flakes started to drift down.
"We will have to attack them, we cannot wait until the Morning, we will all be froze to death," ruminated Peg, aloud to Punzee.
"Oie, said Punzee, I think you is right."
"Gather them," said Peg, "And tell them to bring the biggest Leaf they can find, she instructed.
The troop of Pie-rats, regrouped with brown leaves curled upon their backs like cloaks, now camouflaged. They would slip unseen to the very Gate of the Baggaraggs.
If the shadows were living things they would not have liked the intrusion of The Pie-rats into their Nightly rituals. They would have rustled the leaves into whirlwinds, and blown them high into the tops of the trees. They would have stolen around the branches with cold breath, frosting the tips where the Pie-rats hung, clinging, cold and waiting for a dawn attack. And they would have knitted webs that no Spider ever spun, to blanket the unsuspecting with a creepy coil of mossy threads.
Big Punzee waited in the top of a maple with the one legged leader of the Pie-rats secured to her back. She did not like the woods, the night, or the cold Breath of the Shadowy wind.
There was a whisper, then a cry from a branch below them, as an Owl plucked a Pie-rat from its hold on the limb. It was off, without a sound, the Pie-rat tightly clutched in Talons that seemed too big, too sharp, and deadly.
"Oie, Oie...did you see that?" This from Big Punzee, as she started to shinny backward on the branch. "I am gettin' us out of here before we get snatched," said Big Punzee. Peg-leg, her voice muffled, cried to the others around her, "Get down from the trees, Their are OWLS about!"
Some heard, some did not and some suffered the same fate as the first, Quietly plucked from a branch with only the whisper of a wing, softly, softly bringing the Talons of death.
"We cannot wait until the dawn to attack," said Peg-leg. "We will all be eaten by those nasty Owls. We have to change our plans and attack, or else hide until the dawn."
As the Pie-rats regrouped on the forest floor, there were continued cries overhead from Pie-rats who had not escaped.
"It is dreadful dark in this woods," said Big Punzee.
"There is a wicked feeling here,"acknowledged another rat named Lucky Lucy.
"Quiet that talk," blasted Peg-leg. "Stow IT!" Her nerves were on edge too.
They followed Big Punzee, almost blindly to the forest edge, where the Lights from the windows of the Baggaraggs, were a blur in the cold night.
"There they is , snug as bugs," whispered Lucky Lucy, gesturing towards the Baggaraggs.
"I say we storm them," said another rat named Angus.
"Hush," said Big Punzee, "Give the Peg a Chance to think."
And so they huddled in the shadows, some burrowed in the leaves, as the first snow flakes started to drift down.
"We will have to attack them, we cannot wait until the Morning, we will all be froze to death," ruminated Peg, aloud to Punzee.
"Oie, said Punzee, I think you is right."
"Gather them," said Peg, "And tell them to bring the biggest Leaf they can find, she instructed.
The troop of Pie-rats, regrouped with brown leaves curled upon their backs like cloaks, now camouflaged. They would slip unseen to the very Gate of the Baggaraggs.
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