sEA hAG

This is what I feel like TODAY! Only I have hair.

Bug Invasion

SOMETIMES THINGS AREN'T VERY LOVELY AS THEY COME ALONG

Iris and Irving

Hmm, Not sure where these guys are going to go. I am in a bit of a creative slump here lately...I think maybe Lemon Poppy Seeds.

BUY DOLLS

Buy my Mother's dolls or things could get a little RUFF! (Sorry about the Bad Joke.)

DANCe!!!!!

Ok! Grab your Partner!!! Its time to take a breather and dance a BIT! Turn up your Sound, grab your legs and GO FOR IT. No one can resist this music...So DANCE!!!

Prunella's decision

Prunella Fig-Pink paused before the bathroom mirror to once more check her appearance. She could feel her heart skipping a beat or two as she carefully arranged the remains of her party hat. There was an old wooden spool attached to the hat that acted as a tassel and hung at an angle, with little threads spinning out like tiny legs. She applied another coat of Black Lipstick, and smacked her lips. She Looked Great! They are almost here, she thought with great excitement.

The doorbell sounded. She rushed towards it, and jerked it open with a smile of anticipation. "So glad you could make it," she said nervously. "Please come in, come in, I am so glad that you are here."

Peg-leg the pirate motioned to Big Punzee to move the wagon through the entrance. As their eyes met Big Punzee shrugged her shoulders, as Peg-Leg lifted her eyebrows in surprise at their reception. Big Punzee looked around. The entrance hall to Prunella's home was papered in faded pink cabbage roses. There were some dark stains along the ceiling that had dripped down the wall in long jagged stalactites. There was an odor of mildew that permeated the air. Oh," said Prunella, "What have you got there? What have you brought to the party...is that for Me...for me," she repeated when no one answered. "Thank you so much for coming to my Birthday Party...I've been waiting for you," she gulped a little nervously. Peg-Legs thoughts raced ahead of Prunella. Her opportunist instincts were honed to a fine predatory edge. It was only a moment before she sized up the situation and had it turned to her advantage.

"We are honored to be your guests," said Peg, who waved her hands in encouragement for the other pirates to speak up...."Yes, thank you for inviting us," some chorused in. There was a crowd of cold and Hungry PIe-rats that were introduced to Prunella. As the names were given and pleasantries exchanged, Peg-leg had an opportunity to further scan the scene. She spied out the Dining Room with its cobweb of stretched and faded streamers, and eyed the Castle shaped cake that was in danger of crumbling into green dust upon the table.

"What's that smell? asked Big Punzee as she glanced around looking for the source of a most unpleasant smell.

"Is that my Present?" Prunella queried, impatiently waiting to be answered. She gestured towards the wagon with the Thread Pusher inside.

"Oh Yes," answered Peg, "We got you this here Thread Pusher as a birthday present...ain't that right Big Punzee?" Punzee eyed Peg with a look that seemed to say "What are you crazy?' and nodded her head.

"Well, thank you, Thank you...a most unusual present I would like to say. Prunella added.

"Well come into the dining room and we'll begin the festivities."

Looks amongst the rats were exchanged. They hesitantly followed her through to the middle part of the house where the party was set to go, many years ago.

Big Punzee realized that the smell was actually coming from Prunella herself.

The rats hopped up onto the table and looked about. It takes alot of something unsavory to put a rat off their food, but this offering set them back. Big Punzee stepped backward. She looked around the dining room sniffed the faded streamers, and the green castle cake that smelled of Raid. "Something bad is happening here," Punzee thought to herself.

Prunella hurried to the kitchen to find extra dishes for all of her guests, and to retrieve the beet juice for her empty punch bowl. She was very nervous and anxious to please, but something else was happening to Prunella that no one would have been able to predict. As she opened the refrigerator door, and saw the little light burning within, a thought came to her that she had tried not to think about for many years. Feelings of hurt and anger rose up in Prunella's throat. Why had no one come to her Party all those years ago? Why, oh why, had no one come? And now more importantly, Who were these rats that had arrived with a Thread-Pusher in a Wagon? Confusion entered into Prunella's brain and she wrestled with her thoughts to try to sort them out. It had been a long time since she had tried to, and her ability to wrestle was weak. "I will simply have my Birthday with these Rats, everything will be Fine." The denial attempted to re-assert itself. Gathering some of the jars of beet juice, she returned to the Dining room, with a smile plastered on her face. "Help yourselves to refreshments,"she said, waving a hand towards the platters of moldy cookies and cupcakes that she had carefully made so long ago. She watched the faces of the Pirates and realized then that there was a look of dismay on every face. No one was going to help themselves. Even Pie-rats will not eat a cupcake that is moldy and rotten. The Pie-rats looked at Peg-Leg for instruction...surely they would not be expected to eat this ghastly food.

Prunella watched, and then frowned. She remembered the extra plates that she had left in the kitchen and went to retrieve them, hurrying off.

Prunella's Mother had taught her that "THose who listen, never hear Good of themselves.' She tried not to listen to the whispers on the other side of the kitchen door, but she had been listening to her thoughts whisper to her for such a long time...and these were real Whispers. And so it was that Prunella Fig-Pink hovered at the kitchen door and heard the PIe-rats talking about her. The things they were whispering went something like this: "What is we doing in this CRazy Woman's house Peg? We can't eat this moldy food...I think she is a wack-job! She's got a squirrel loose in her attic! Let's get rid of her Peg! Then we can set up shop here. This place is OURs Now!"

Something happened to Prunella then that should have happened a long time ago. You can call it a crack in the wall of denial if you like, or maybe just a leak. Never the Less, Prunella understood that she was in danger from these Pie-Rats. They had not come here for a party. She did not know what they had come for...but it was not to have a piece of her Birthday Cake.

The whispering continued as Prunella, very quietly slipped her coat off the hook in the kitchen closet and wrapped herself in its warmth. She had made a decision that both frightened and exhilarated her. She hastily opened her kitchen door and stepped out into the winter night. She was going to ask Grace Tenderstitch for help.

The Rag Ocean Friends

Have you Met the Sea Captain Wendell and his Friend Antonia the Mermaid? They are currently for sale on Lemon Poppy Seeds. They met after a typhoon blew Wendel off couse in the Rag Ocean.

A very Blessed and wonderous Easter day to all of you in the blog world. He has Risen.

me and my dog

THere are moments when I feel that I am suspended on the crest of a huge wave about to take the ride of my life. It is not just caffeine but the Possibilities of what walking through the door to creativity and making might eventually lead to. God hears prayers.

Miss Loretta Tilby the Librarian

Miss Loretta Tilby is available on Lemon Poppy Seeds. She is a very KIND Librarian...and encourages us to read...even trash romance novels!

WORKING

The Goblin Light of Prunella Fig-Pink

Meanwhile, in another part of the forest, the light from a Goblin Lamp illuminated a snowy path to Prunella Fig-Pink's cottage. There were blackened sticks that lined the pathway and seemed to beckon like many crooked old fingers. Old bottles clacked together in the night wind that were tied to the leafless tree branches. Their sounds were jagged and warning, and threatening to break in the frosty darkness..

The pie-rats trudged up this path, pulling their burden of the Thread pusher in an old red wagon. They strained and tugged, smoking tiny clouds of misty breaths into the night. It was hard work, even for the biggest Rats, who had powerful legs and claws. Peg-Leg rode on top of the Thread Pusher, yelling encouragement, and at times vituperative remarks to her minions. "Hurry on," she yelled. "Its freezing out here, you idiots."

Big Punzee strained harder. She was beyond speech at this point and longed to be warm, longed to sleep, and longed to turn and tell her mistress to "shut-up."

Prunella Fig-Pink waited inside. She had been waiting a long time and so waiting for her had become second nature. Waiting for what? you might ask yourself. Prunella had been waiting to have her party. She was waiting and had been waiting for over 15 years for her guests to arrive for a Birthday party that would celebrate her 16th year. She was now 31 years old. She remained in the same dress, with the same party hat, and the same underdrawers, with the same makeup that she wore 15 years ago. The crepe paper streamers were drooping but remained secured to the chandalier in the dining room. They were faded and dusty and stretched to a dull pink. The party hats were still waiting for heads to adorn, prizes were wrapped in faded paper and the cake, which was the masterpiece of the celebration, shaped as a castle, remained uncut in the center of the dining room table. Prunella had to spray it at times for bugs. What had been shocking pink frosting was now mossy green. The punch bowl was still on the side board, but the beet juice beverage which Prunella liked to serve at these kinds of festivities had dried to scum in the bottom of the bowl. But Prunella was very excited. Her guests were about to arrive. They were pulling something very heavy down her pathway in a red wagon, and unless Prunella was wrong, it would be a present for her. Her heart sang. Atlast! Atlast I will have my Party, she thought.

More Story. (sorry it was a while in coming.)

There was a fine sweat that gathered at the neckline and scalp of Grace Tenderstitch. The snow fell and she was aware that the rats had scattered. She leaned wearily on the shovel and rested her forehead against her arm, aware that she was cold and damp. In this moment she feared looking around and assessing the damage, fearful that she would find her friends broken and hurt beyond what she could repair. Her anger was spent in the swinging of the shovel, fending off the Pie-rats. Her adrenaline spent.

There was an intrusive and irrelevant thought that came into her mind that she was out of eggs, and would have to borrow a few from the chickens if she was too bake cookies tomorrow. She turned slowly to survey the scene behind her, as the animals rushed up to her.

"Remind me never to make you angry," said Ernie the weasel, as he eyed the flat shovel with a renewed respect.

"Is everyone alright? Can we get a head count ?" This from Grace who looked wearily at the tattered garden that was swiftly being buried as the snow fell.

"Is anyone injured? Hurt? Is everyone ok?" Grace persisted.

Most of her animal friends stood stunned with fatigue, some licked their injuries, some were trembling.

"Where is Tisdale? Where is Myron, Angus? and the others? "

Murray responded, "Everyone seems ok Grace, lets get them inside and tend to wounds."

Murray rounded them up as Grace watched, still attached to the shovel. Into the house they went, some nursing wounds that now were beginning to ache.

Several mice that had once lived in the basement of the Red Cross had set up a triage area, little cots and mats were spread upon the floor to rest upon.

The kitchen table had been turned into a treatment area with iodine and needles threaded with silk for suturing if the need arose. Grace tended their wounds and saw to warming Tisdale whose little body was half frozen with cold. He was placed under the kitchen lamp where the heat from the bulb would gradually warm him.

Murray waited patiently while Grace saw to the others before bringing her attention to the arrows stuck in his shoulders and ears like little darts.

She did all that she could, but some had savage rat bites that would require the administration of an antibiotic and she had none. She would contact the vet in the morning to get his help.

After what seemed a long while, Grace retired to bed. Her thoughts were scattered, racing and uneasy. Something was very wrong, and out of habit she got up and went into the studio to refocus her mind on something positve, a distraction. She switched on the light, and shielding her eyes from the brightness, looked up to see that the Thread Pusher was gone.