Time Out

Well what an odd couple of days. Have got totally absorbed in Hermann Hesse, currently The Glass Bead Game. What a writer, if only one can emulate this man. Oh to be able to write like him. I have been giving my writing a lot of thought, and have a new project in mind, that will not go away. Want to know more? It is based on a real situation I and my family were in some years ago. It will definitely not be a children's story as the content is quite dark. A little Frank Peretti like, the forces of good and evil in today's world.

Monday I must record Fleur in it's entirety and get it into MP3, and during the course of the weekend write some more prequels, along with may be an outline of new book.

Today has been a total non writing day!

Today I had a very early start, in order to collect my daughter and grandson and take my daughter to have a tooth extracted under sedation, which culminated in bringing her back her and allowing her to sleep off the worst effects, whilst I had a very energetic 21 month old to entertain, we gardened, we walked to the park, and we visited friends for coffee, we had lunch then around 4.45 the 60 mile journey again to take them home along with Mike to stay overnight as she was not to be left for 24 hour. It has been one very long day, I will however get some writing done tomorrow.

Better late than never

Well I have about an hour and a half left of today, no writing I am so sorry, day has been taken up with a broken washing machine flooding the kitchen, and trying to finalize trip to Baltimore for Christmas, after 'Postcards from Baltimore' I want to experience the winter season too. It is such a contrast. I am also hoping to do a spot as Writer in Residence at a very large book store, followed a week later by story telling for kids just prior to Christmas. I am hoping to gather a wealth of new material to write about, especially some of those things kids come out with.

A brief glimpse of the Fleur series of books.

'Fleur a Lonely Pocket Mouse.' Book 1: tells the story of Fleur her love of flowers and her adventures.

'Fleur and Cedarick.' Book 2: Is the continuation of Fleurs adventures having met Cedarick.

'Griffin and Griselda.' Book 3: Takes up the story of two of the characters from the first two books.

'Freddie Reynard.' Book 4: Continues the tale from another character.

'The Book of Prequels' will be put into Book form shortly but I have more to add to it yet.

Did not get to write

Next prequel will be up tomorrow, somehow time today and yesterday has escaped me. I have been snowed under with other stuff, Poems off to Poetry competitions, recording Fleur onto MP3 nearly ready, sometimes there are just not enough hours in a day, but I sometimes think I would say that even if a day was twice as long, The time just seems to fly by. Tonight I will write.

Would you believe it.

I have come to the end of the prequels already written, so later today I must get started on the next set. Some will be for the following three books after Fleur a lonely pocket mouse, just to give you a flavour of them.

Today, now I have recovered from both a nasty cold, followed by a flu jab on Friday to which I had a nasty reaction, keeping me in bed for 48 hours, feeling very feverish, all that remains now is an egg like lump on my arm, however they also want me to have the Swine Flu jab on the 5th, me I am not certain, apparently I am a high risk group being diabetic and Asthmatic, but I do not want another reaction like this or worse, especially as I expect to be flying out to Baltimore again, to spend Christmas and some quality time with my man. I just hope he gets a job over here soon, or we decide for me to go and live there. Still time will tell.

The wheeled Wooden Platform (Continuation)

Eventually the day came, when the boy, no longer a boy, but a young man and his mother came into the room. They had with them large rubbish sacks, the boy began moving things to go outside, amongst those was the skateboard.

Casually tossed aside near the rubbish bins. It sighed to itself, wondering what was going to happen next, when all of a sudden, a big furry face was looking at him, next it used it’s two very furry paws to push it along, to see how well it moved. The inquisitive furry face smiled down at the skateboard, just what I was looking for it purred.

Before it knew what was happening it was being wheeled away to a new life. The big furry face belonged to Griffin a large grey cat, who was a very clever and resourceful chap, and between Griffin and the skate board they became invaluable to all those small creatures living in the Secret Garden. When it was not being used it was put away into the ancient wooden shed and kept dry.

It was he thought a very different life, but at lease it was a useful life.

The Wheeled Wooden Platform (Prequel)

The wheeled wooden platform, that Griffin used so much to help all the creatures in the Secret Garden, was old and very battered, it’s wheels were rusty, but it had it’s memories, it remembered much from before it just became useful.

It had been quite beautiful, bright and shiny red, with ornate Gold lettering on, it was highly lacquered and glinted in the sun light. It’s wheels, oh, it’s wheels were bright silvery gleaming stainless steel, and moved so very freely. How very fast they could turn.

It remembered the delightful face of the boy it was given to, that Christmas so long ago. He recalled how they had learned to respect each other, and the joy they had had together, the tricks they got up to together. Taking the boy along the pavement to school, in fact being taken everywhere the boy went, if not being ridden it was tucked securely under his arm.

Some years later however, it was left in the boys bedroom, the boy was rarely there now, and when he did come home, he did not take him out with him anymore. He was old now, no longer shiny bright, it’s wood was battered and dented, and it’s wheels well worn, and nobody rode upon him any more.

The bright shiny red skateboard had been abandoned, disregarded.

Secret Garden continuation.

There were so many different varieties of fruit trees and cans, raspberries, loganberries, pear trees, peach trees, apricot, plum and of course apple trees, it was a veritable mini orchard when they had finished the fruit are, just before it they planted a large strawberry bed, for the summers delightful fruits.

A bower was made, very small slender trees and shrubs surrounded it, delicately planted with sweet smelling flowers. In the centre stood a natural large stone on which the weather had naturally eroded a small shallow basin, ideal for putting water for the birds. All the gardeners were delighted with the finished effect they had created. They had all been sworn to secrecy about the secret gardens existence. It became their pride and joy.

Years passed the Head Gardener died and his helpers all went on to other things, so no one looked after the garden any more. The neglect started slowly, the old gardeners had kept their word and told no one of it’s existence, and the new owners did not really care gardens and gardening, they were just too busy.

By now, roses and ivy covered it’s exterior walls, the door totally concealed from sight. To all intents and purposes it had been totally forgotten and left to rot. Inside it was almost unbelievable, where once a riot of colour from plants and flowers greeted one, there was now only weeds and ground cover, in all it was a huge mess.

It had long forgotten the laughter from the children, being gently tended by the gardeners, it had given in to the ravages of time. Strong brambles grew twisting into shrubs, columbine had overtaken everything, and horsetails appeared everywhere.

Would it wondered anybody ever tend it again?

The Secret Garden (Prequel)

Long, long ago, the owner of an estate called Grace Manor, wanted a large, secluded walled garden, hidden behind very high walls. It was to be made exclusively for his wife and children. It was to be a private place of great beauty, and no expense was to be spared.

He commissioned a local builder to measure and dig out the trenches, then to build the high sandstone coloured wall, it was to have only one wide arched door into it, and the wall was to be 9 feet high.  When this was done, he got his Head Gardener and his helpers to clear and dig the ground, then to remake it to his own design.

When the structural work was done, all the beds laid out and planted, they moved onto landscaping the Secret Garden, leaving room for a large cedar shed and a glass house that was being spoken about, it would be sited at a later date, may even be on the far side of the wall if their was no room. It would look splendid there, as one swept down over the lawns, just wonderful.

When all the shrubbery plants were in place, the Head Gardener and his helpers planted swathes of brightly coloured bulbs that would pop up each year and make such a welcome sight.

They then turned their attention to the area marked out for vegetables and herbs, they duly planted every type of vegetable and herb they could get.

Next it was time to stake out the fruit trees.

Yet another day bites the dust.

Sorry folks, but prequel will have to come later, sore throat has turned into a chesty cough, and am needing to use my inhalers much more, so feel lousy. I will get round to posting the start of the next prequel later on today, but right now I am going back to bed with pen and pad to write some things that are on my mind, that I need to get down on paper. See you later.

So much for good intentions.

I had so much planned to do today but have been legated to being supine in bed, dosed up with Paracetamol, and a throat on fire, a head like lead and the beginnings of a real chesty cough. Not good, however I am determined to get back on track tomorrow with the next Prequel, so keep watching. I did do a little writing at odd periods today, which is good.

Well that is the first three

So now you have had prequels 1,2 &3, tomorrow will see the start of another, for your perusal. Today I have a ery sore throat and swollen glands, but will not let that prevent me from getting on, only thing I won’t do is record Fleur, until voice feels better, don’t want to sound like a frog!

I am working on going back to Baltimore in the very near future, and attempting to get some things set up for whilst I am there, Poetry Readings, Kid’s story corners and such like, giving it more justification than just going to see the man.

Baltimore is a wonderful place, such an eclectic mix of people, and on the whole it is very laid back, which is I guess why I like it so much, I also find it very inspirational and seem to write very well there, I guess it is because it is somewhere different, new sights, sounds, smells etc.

Still wherever I happen to be, I will write, just some places give more scope.

continuation

Later that afternoon, just before Old Joe was packing up for the day, across the lawn came the Baron and Baroness. “Joe we have come to see how it is all going” said the Baron. “Yes, I so want my first afternoon tea, so it must just be perfect” added the Baroness. Joe opened the door and led them in, pointing out plants, and explaining why they were positioned the way that they were, the Baron asked many questions, whilst her ladyship just looked down her long nose. “It is not at all as I envisaged” she said disappointedly, “Just where am I going to serve tea, you have left me no room.” “My dear” said the Baron, “this is a house for exotic plants not a tea room, surely you can have the maids set tea out on the lawn, maybe under the cedar, then you can give guided tours of the glass house.” she looked at him with distain, “that will just have to do, I suppose” she conceded.

Throughout the summer months the Baroness gave many tea parties, and the glass house enjoyed the adoration of her friends, it loved to here the envy in their voices. However the long winter months saw it unvisited apart from Old Joe and Jethro. It found that hard to understand if it was so beautiful.

This pattern continued for many years, Old Joe died and Sam took over, the war came and the glass house became more neglected year by year, no longer were there tea parties, and new plants, it was becoming tatty and so unloved.

Then horror of horrors, the newest Baron’s young son and his friend were in the garden looking as always to do mischief. They decided to put a marker against the low wall of the glass house and target small stones at different points of the target. All was well for a while, until they got fed up and boredom kicked in and the boys chose bigger stones, until thwack a stone hit one of the large panes and slowly it cracked, the cracks running all ways from the initial hole of the impact, the glass house was dismayed, this was the first damage it had sustained deliberately and no one would know, so it would not be repaired. The boys moved quickly took away the marker and picked up the tell tale stones, then between then they vowed a pact not to say anything about the accident. They knew if they did they would get in trouble, but if nothing was said the likelihood was it would not be noticed for a long time.

After they the glass house shuddered with disgust, looked around and truly realised it was old, dusty and now delapidated, many spiders had taken up residence spinning their webs everywhere, even birds came in through they door, that had not shut for a very long time. The only surviving plants were the orchids. Silently it sighed and gave up.

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Eventually the day dawned, the day the precious plants were to arrive. The Baron had ordered them all from Kew Gardens in Capital, they had been tended on their long journey by an expert sent by Kew to help Old Joe to get the very best from these plants. Old Joe may only be an old head gardener, but his whole life revolved around his precious garden and plants. Learning about new species was something he really enjoyed, learning all he could helped his alleged green fingers.

Finally the large covered lorry arrived, it was a very unusual sight hereabouts as there were so few motor vehicles, horse power was still the order of the day.  William, the expert got down from the front of the lorry and came to Joe, they introduced themselves and shook hands. Like Joe, William was enthusiastic about plants. Joe took him and showed him the glass house and all that had been done with the staging and trellises etc, William was delighted, “This will do very very nicely, they will thrive and enjoy themselves here.” he told Joe.

Old Joe blew a whistle he kept in his pocket, and soon along came Jethro complete with a large handcart. Now the three of them could start to unload the precious cargo from the confines of the lorry. It took an age to unload everything, plant after plant appeared, there were tree’s, shrubs, all manner of exotic and succulents with fabulous foliage. Many took Old Joes breath away with their beauty and scent. Slowly they moved all the plants into their new home, taking great care and paying great detail to attention they listened as William shared his knowledge on each species. All of this was filed away in Old Joes head, he never forgot anything, whereas Jethro had employed pen and paper, noting down the names, feeding and watering habits. They spent the entire day placing the plants to their best advantage, the final ones to be placed were the climbers, they were gently transferred into the beds prepared for them and attached to the awaiting trellis.

The final climber to Old Joes delight was a grape vine, he had made a special place for this, with it’s own latticed framework, it had it’s own list of do’s and don'ts with it. Joe was delighted, he had never grown a grape vine before and was very keen to do so, it would become his pride and joy he thought.

Weeks passed, everything had settled in well, and some had even grown a tad. Now that Old Joe was happy with the new acquisitions, he sent word to the Baron that he and the Baroness should come and visit the glass house.

continuation

Old Joe, smiled and dipped his head and went off. He of course had his own ideas of just how the glass house would look, and of course being the experienced gardener his way would prevail, at least with the Baron, who would then explain simply to the Baroness at great length why Old Joe was right.

The very next day Ted arrived with his horse and cart piled high with assorted lengths of timber and his huge dirty grey canvas tool bag.  He was a very skilled carpenter and for him only the very best job would do, made from the very best materials, wood and the ironmongery available. Old Joe was waiting for him with Jethro, who was Old Joe told Ted, there to be helpful to Ted fetching and carrying. Ted was very pleased, he had not been expecting any help, this would allow him to get more done.

He set Jethro to unloading the wood and carrying it carefully into the glass house, while he looked around the splendour of the glass house and in his minds eye saw all the things that needed to be done and just how they would look. Without wasting any time he set to work, measuring, sawing and joining pieces of wood together, until finally the interior was half finished. He stood back and surveyed all he had accomplished, tomorrow he thought I will finish it. On his return the following morning, he set out to develop a staging area, to show off a multitude of plants, he continued with a low boxed area to hold the fruit trees, and finished with an area of double staging with fixed trellis behind to show off all the fancy climbers he knew had been ordered. When he had finished, he was very pleased with his work, and when Jethro brought Old Joe to see, he also was delighted. Now all that was needed was for the interior ground to be prepared then to wait for the arrival of the plants. Old Joe could not wait, if ever anything excited him it was learning about new plants.

continuation

Unfortunately the half finished glass house overheard this conversation and began to form grandiose ideas into it’s very core. It was special, the only one around here, it was beautiful, people were going to come from far and wide to see it in all it’s glory. It’s glory would of course have nothing to do with all the beautiful exotic plants it would hold in time they were it thought just window dressing, to show it off in the very best possible way. Thinking all these thought it finally fell asleep under the stars, dreaming of how important it was.

The following morning was bright and sunny, the glazier arrived and finished off all the glazing, when he had finished he stood back gazing at the glass house in all it’s magnificent glory, it was he thought very beautiful, the clean lines and high ceilings, windows that opened perfectly, he was satisfied he had done the best job he could. He packed up his tools and wandered up to the Manor House to see the Baron and let him know all was finished, he knew also the Baron would pay him, he was known by all the local tradesmen as a fair and prompt employer and payer. Due to this when ever he needed a local tradesman he never had to wait, the Baroness however was a very different kettle of fish, no one chose to work for her, if it had not been for the Baron and how well l liked he was, very few trades people would respond to the Baroness, she was picky, rude and never content with what was done. She was not a well liked woman.

The glass house knew all this and decided to be perverse it would champion the Baroness however it could.

The following morning Old Joe the head gardener and Jethro one of his assistants, a hard working but slightly slow witted lad arrived. They both stood there open mouthed in awe at the sheer splendour of the huge glass house.  Today they would only be taking measurements for the Baron, so he could order the staging's and frames required for the interior from Ted, the local carpenter, who would bring the wood and construct them on site, in order to get them perfectly aligned.

With all the measurements noted down in his pocket book, Old Joe sent Jethro back to his work, and set off himself to see the Baron. When he reached  the manor house the Baron and Baroness were on the terrace reading the papers and drinking coffee. He doffed his cap and nodded to the Baroness, and went over to the Baron with his list of measurements. As he turned to leave, the Baroness asked in her very superior voice, “When can I expect it finished, with it full of plants Joe?” he turned to her and responded, “Marm, I think Ted will need the best part of a week, then we have to prepare the inside ground, then of course we have to wait for the arrival of the plants, so I think you should be thinking six to eight week plus maybe another two or three to allow the plants to settle.”

She pouted, “Oh, so long, iI hoped Joe it would be ready next weekend.” “No sorry Marm, can’t be done” replied old Joe. The Baron added “You can’t rush these things my dear, Joe is right these things will all take time.” “Hmm” responded the Baroness, “Do your best Joe, I want that glass house to be the absolute showpiece of Victorian Elegance. I want it to be the envy of all my friends.”

The House of Orchids

Fleur had a real scare when she bumped into an invisible barrier, until she found it’s huge mouth and entered into the house of orchids. It was a huge majestic place, but to Fleur and the orchids it was just a glass house.

Unknown to anyone, the glass house had a spectacular history, and just no one would believe how it was in it’s former glory. It sat day in day out deteriorating more and more, panes of glass missing and broken, never repaired, it hadn’t always been like that it remembered.

All it had left to it now, were it’s thoughts of what it had been. One of the previous Barons, a long time ago, had seen the glass house at the Great Exhibition, and knew it was exactly what was needed at Grace Manor. He visualized it growing oranges and lemons, and every kind of exotic plant imaginable. He ordered it there and then and returned to Grace Manor to have the ground cleared and levelled for it’s arrival. When this was all done, the Baron waited, finally the great day arrived, the glass house had arrived. It had come from London by dray, he had local workmen standing by to help unload and piece together the frame work. When the Baron was satisfied, he paid them knowing the next day the glazier would arrive to put in all the glass, he was a master craftsman so the Baron had no fears of the work not being of the very highest standard. He just knew how magnificent this Glass House would look.

The following day the glazier arrived, pane after pane he lovingly fitted, lining everything up and securing with connectors. It was a huge area he had to do, and he knew it would take longer than one day, he was loathe to leave it unfinished, he and the Baron agreed he would come back the following day to finish the job.

That evening the Baron accompanied by his wife the Baroness walked down to see the progress of the glass house, she was very impressed with what she saw and shared her plans with the Baron. She would she explained invite all her friends to take tea, which she would have the maids lay out in the glass house, then they could walk around and enjoy all the exotic plants. Old Joe would know how to lay it all out to show everything at it’s very best. The Baroness gloated as she told the Baron, that all her friends would be green with envy, never before would they of seen anything like it. The Baroness was a snob of the first order she enjoyed lording it over her friends. The Baron indulged her whims as she was of very delicate health, he loved her dearly and wanted her to have all she wanted.

Two down many more to go

Well that completes the first two prequels, I hope you have enjoyed them, tomorrow I will start posting the third. I have spent the last couple of days making ‘Postcards form Baltimore’ into an EBook, which can be purchased on this site, it will be up later today, I hope you take the opportunity and enjoy it.

I am currently recording Fleur- A lonely Pocket Mouse onto an MP3 format, and hope to have that up and available in the next few days.

The more research I do, the more it seems EBooks and audio MP3 are the way to go, it seems unlikely to me, but also that it is coming that the written hard copy book is dying a slow death, now things are becoming so more available on the internet, times are changing and I guess so must we, technology it seems will not stand still. I can not say I like the idea of the demise of book in the form we know them, but I guess it is the same that happened to the music industry, and all the downloads now available.

So I will begin to embrace the new format, and continue to write and post on this site. Have a great day, remember feedback is really appreciated.

continuation

A long year passed by, Sam and Jethro often talked about events of the war, about John and Ellen, who was now training to be a nurse. They spoke of the huge number of casualties the war was responsible for. With a heavy heart Sam told Jethro, he had not heard from John for some time and had no idea where he was.

Weeks went by until one afternoon when Sam and Jethro were hard at work, Ellen arrived looking for her father, her eyes were wide with fear. “Dad, you must come home, we have received a telegram, and mother is too frightened to open it.” she said breathlessly. Sam paled visibly and gave his keys to Jethro, asking him to put the tools away and lock up. He went off with Ellen.

The following day Jethro arrived on his own, this pattern followed for the next six days. Then a week after he had left with Ellen, Sam turned up, he told Jethro the sad news of John’s death, Sam choked as Jethro gave his condolences, he thanked him and sent him off to his chores.

Sam came inside and sat down just as old Joe had on the same upturned flower pot, he put his head in his hands and sat and cried, finally being able to stop being strong for everyone else, and allow his own grief to flow freely.

It stood totally surrounding Sam, taking in all his bewilderment and pain, but there was nothing it could do. It felt useless and old.

More years passed by, Jethro died in his sleep, Sam passed away, and the old master died, the estate passed into new hands. The new Baron Grace had very new fangled ideas, he did not employ gardeners, but contractors to care for the formal gardens, but no one came near their garden, it became a secret garden. Years went by and the garden garden neglected and unloved became a wilderness taken over by weeds and brambles, all around it nettles and weeds fought to choke it. So it went on year after year, until one day, it felt right down  by it’s right corner a very tiny heartbeat, rapidly beating as if frightened. All to soon it had passed and all that remained for it to see was a long golden tail, this was it’s first glimpse of Fleur, who unbeknown to it would become it’s saviour.

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Years passed, John and Ellen grew up, Jethro became quite an old man, but still worked in the garden with Sam, whilst the big brown non breathing thing stood watching and silently listening to all that went on around it, It continued to protect all it’s dependents inside.

When John was seventeen and Ellen fifteen, it overheard Sam and Jethro talking, about the war, both were to old to be called up for active service, but Sam was worried for John. He had always believed that John would be the first in the family to go to college, and better himself, it was not for him to be a gardener on a large estate. Sam wanted far better than that for his son.  Sam knew he had been lucky, both with the master and the work load, and he was doing something he enjoyed. He took immense pride in all he did, and it was both appreciated and noticed by the master, who took time each week to spend time talking to Sam.

A few months passed by, and there had been some very strange events, that it did not understand, huge loud explosions, that caused it’s windows to shake and even disturbed the runners it sat on. Then there were all the lights in the skies at night, they disturbed it’s rest, light beams crossing over from side to side, as huge bellied aircraft flew up there, dropping large bombs on cities and rural communities, where they caused such damage, where they missed they left huge craters.  It knew all this from listening to Sam and Jethro. So it stood and listened, taking everything in.

It was a Monday morning, it knew that because no one had come the day before, it knew this was called Sunday and it enjoyed hearing the Church bells ringing. Sam and Jethro arrived, they were both quiet, took out their tools and went about their work. Halfway through the morning John strolled into the garden, there was something very different about the young man, he was dressed very differently and his hair had been cut short and very tidy. He called out to his father, who came down the path thinking John brought a message for him from his mother. When he saw John standing there, he stopped and stared, part of him was very proud of his son, now in uniform and ready to go and fight for his King and Country, the other part of him was terrified for his son. War he knew was such an ugly thing.

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Old Joe called the lads in, they came from all areas of the garden, bringing their tools in, they each cleaned theirs and then put them away, pleased their long day was over. Old Joe, closed the doors, put the shiny steel padlock into the hasp that Sam had fixed earlier, locked it and off they all went home for the day.

When it was sure it was all alone, it sighed and mulled over everything Old Joe had shared with it, he was right Sam would be the best choice. It wondered how it could show overall approval for Old Joes choice, it would have to think that through.

Days, weeks, months and years passed. Old Joe and his lad’s coming daily for tolls and then tending the garden. One day, it was waiting, but no-one came, this it thought was very unusual, it waited and waited for Old Joe to arrive but no one came. Night fell and it had seen no one, it worried, there must be something wrong. It slept very fitfully that night, taking little if any notice of the birds when they arrived, until one fat robin, who had befriended it and was a resident in the garden, told him Old Joe had died, and the master had given the lads the day off. It was saddened by this news, but knew, the garden, the tools and it would be in Sam’s safe hands now.

Eventually the five arrived, Sam in the lead, with  Old Joes key in his hand, he opened up and they all got out their tools as Sam told each of them their job for the day. Sombrely they all went off in all directions and started the long days work.

Slowly the years past, Sam grew into a fine man, married and had a family of his own, he would often bring the children to help him in the garden. They enjoyed this as each had their own small garden patch for which they were responsible. Ellen grew carrots and salad, whereas John her older brother seemed intent on growing small alpine plants in delicate hues. The children enjoyed cleaning the tools, especially as it helped Sam, who  now had  Jethro to help him. Jethro was still slow but a very willing and hard worker. The other three had disappeared their own ways in the intervening years.

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Lunches finished, they all looked to old Joe for the rest of their days work, once he had dispatched them all to their allotted chores, he went back into the tools. He looked around him, and was so delighted with what he saw, and the way in which everything fitted.

Taking down a hoe, he set off to a small bed close by, and began hoeing the weeds away. Old Joe had been the Head Gardener here at Grace Manor for nearly 40 years, he knew that soon it would be time for him to suggest his successor to his master, thinking all the while about his five young gardeners. Hoeing finished he returned to clean off the hoe and put it away. He was getting very tired these days, he turned over a large flower pot, sat on it and mused out loud the virtues and failures of each of the five young men.

Norris, a fine young man, took his responsibility well and always did as old Joe asked, but old Joe just knew he was not a natural, he never suggested or saw things that could or should be done.

Roddy, on the other hand was a natural, he was the smallest and youngest of the five. Yes he had fine ideas, some of them smiled old Joe totally impractical, but that showed innovation and that he thought ahead. Old Joe, did not think Roddy would be able to contain his natural exuberance, or indeed encourage the other lads under him. He needed a bit more age.

Jethro, well Jethro was an extremely likeable hard working young man, always did as he was asked, but he was a slow gentle soul, everything took him twice as long as the other lads. so Jethro would have to stay as he was.

Now Reuben, he was a very clever sort, knew his plants inside out, and he had an eye. However though Old Joe, he was prone to being exceedingly arrogant, and putting the backs of the others up. He was not ready to be put in charge, no  he needed to grow and mature like the plants did.

That just left Sam, oh yes thought old Joe, Sam, he had a way about him of diffusing awkward situations as they arose between the other lads, he was both balanced and fair. He was also a very good gardener. He would keep things running well and he would continue to develop this garden.

Feeling more content than he had for days, having made his decision, old Joe went to the doors, gently smoothing them, You’ll help Sam, I know you will.  

continuation

Dawn arrived with the joyous chorus of birdsong, soon the inquisitive ones came and settled by the birds on it’s roof beam, it enjoyed their banter in good humour. Soon it was full daylight, the sun had risen, her golden rays gently spreading warmth with the promise of much more later.

It heard voices, they were coming towards it, it could see and older man and five sizeable young men. One was wheeling a barrow containing all sorts of gardening tools, the others too were laden with all manner of things. The old man had a large shiny steel padlock with a key, and a hasp fitting, it supposed this was to go on it’s door eventually.

The old man opened the double doors, and stepped back, “well lad’s, this is real craftsmanship, just look at the finish, this will last a great number of years. Cedar is such a hard wearing wood. Come on now, let’s get to work, getting these tools in place.”

One by one they entered and the old man told each of them where each tool should live. “order” he said, “good tools like these need to be put in order, like with like, and you lads be sure each is cleaned at the end of each day before it is put away.”

“Norris, your job is to ensure every tool is oiled weekly to keep them in the very best condition. Roddy, you are responsible for ensuring the blades and edges on everything are sharpened weekly, must keep a fine edge on them.”

When all the tools were stowed away to the old man’s satisfaction, they went into the garden to a bench, where they sat down and opened the packs they had each brought with them, eating their sandwiches and drinking their tea from thermos flasks. They sat gazing at it. “Master, certainly bought the very best, old Joe,” said Norris, “this one will see you out” he laughed.  “Eh, yes quality always shows out you youngsters, always remember, it’s not worth cutting corners to save a few pennies, quality is what counts.” the man called old Joe told them. “Master provides us with the very best tolls, and now a quality place to keep them, and in a few weeks the smaller one will arrive, the one for potting up in.” he added.

continuation

When the roof and beam with birds were fixed in place and bolted home, the ladders removed, the men fitted the large windows and hung the two doors.  How good it felt to be completed externally, now all that was left to do, it knew, was the interior linings and sealing against the weather.

The men were all sitting down on the ground, admiring their handiwork, and commenting on how fine it looked, whilst they ate their lunches and rested before sorting out it’s interior. It liked hearing their favourable comments, it gave a warm glow throughout it’s wood.

Lunch over, the men entered, and first they cut lengths of tar backed paper to hang to prevent moisture seeping in, it was a strange sensation as they stuck this on, sort of sensual and tickly. Next came the fibre layer for insulation for the cold weather and finally the cedar planks already cut to fit perfectly were put in place.  All that was left now for the men to do was to seal the windows and doors.

They stood back and admired the vision in front of them, it was beautiful. A good day’s work and thanks to the Major, who only bought quality it had all been so easy.

After they had left, and dusk began to fall, it looked at it’s surroundings, before it was a profusion of colour, it would see it all better in the light of the morning. It could see all shapes and sizes, from tiny violets to huge climbing bougainvillea, it could smell the evening perfume they gave off. It sighed to itself, it was going to enjoy living here. Night fell and bathed the garden with it’s silvery light. All was peaceful and quiet.

The Big Brown non Breathing Thing. (Prequel)

It was Fleur’s very first expedition in search of herb beloved flowers, that she first encountered the big brown non breathing thing- she was a little frightened by the sheer enormity of it. What was it? What could be inside it? How did it come to be there? Fleur being a very young and small pocket mouse had no idea, and certainly was not feeling brave enough to explore it, maybe at a later date she thought to herself. She scurried past it very quickly, and entirely missed the shuddering sigh it made.

It was so very lonely, sitting there unvisited and alone, it had not always been like that. The tools it contained from days bygone ignored it, for it was not one of them, it was purely a subservient entity, to provide them with shelter.  Whilst it maintained that function well, they had no need to communicate with it.

Even the colony of spiders living within continually tickling it with their tiny little feet, and cobweb building had no outward communication with it.

All it could do was to live on it’s memories and it’s former life. It remembered arriving in many pieces on the back of a cart. Each piece lovingly crafted to fit together perfectly, and built to last from the finest Cedar. The best and most durable wood.  It remembered the men carefully removing it from the cart and carrying piece by piece to it’s current location. It remembered seeing the ground perfectly levelled and across it lay large timber runners to prevent water seeping through the floor.

As the men had put the pieces together, fitting one piece carefully to the next, being delighted with the alignment the carpenter had achieved, it watched as they put strong shiny bolts in place, not for it common nails. Feeling two pieces of wood laid gently against it’s sides, it realized these were the roof, it was very proud of it’s roof a high apex, on which the carpenter had made a beam to sit on top and on this beam had carved four beautiful birds, that stood aloft, an owl, a kestre, an eagle and a buzzard, they were beautifully crafted.  It knew it would look so fine when all was finished.

Well Fleur Prequel is done

I have finished the prequel in small sized pieces to be read to children, and as I have said it is just a flavour of Fleur a lonely Pocket Mouse. Tomorrow I will begin posting the next Prequel of the first object Fleur comes across, sound like fun, well continue visiting and reading. Your comments are so important to me. So what’s on for today, well to finish recovering from migraine I had last night, go and post several packages, and then to write and write until my heart is content, I am developing the next book, Verruchio’s a fantasy tale for 7 – 11, I hope full of wonder and excitement and of course as ever a way of dealing with life's issues in a good way. Time will tell. I hope each and everyone of you has a good and fruitful day today.

continuation to end

Returning to her perimeter markers, she placed the next six twigs, and saw a strange thing in the grass. She did not know what it was, but from looking at it, she could immediately see it would make a perfect stool to sit at her table on. It was a sort of odd mushroom shape, but with a thicker stem and not so wider hat, she felt it, it was slightly spongy and pale brown with darker flecks in, she attempted to pick it up, and to her immense joy it was as light as a feather, she took it back to the terracotta pot, and returned to finish her markings. This time she spotted nothing of interest to her so placing the final twig, she set off back to the terracotta pot to put it in order, for this was now her very own home. Now her independent life would begin. Fleur was excited.

 

 

(This prequel of Fleur and indeed other prequels are just to set the scene and give background information to you the readers. Fleur the Lonely Pocket Mouse – continues Fleur’s story and expands both her character and idea’s and ideals.)

continuation

She looked out from the entrance of the terracotta flower pot, and went a short way from it, deciding as she went that it would be best to mark out a circle to start with that would become the perimeter of what would become in time her garden surrounding the terracotta pot. She knew with time and energy she could transform it into something beautiful, she could see it all in her minds eye.  She quickly gathered up some twigs, and as she walked the circle she pushed a twig into the ground as a marker.  She had just placed the seventh marker when just beyond it she spied a conker shell, it was perfectly halved, and she just knew it would be the very best thing to make her bed base from. She lifted it and struggled back to the terracotta pot, then returned to her perimeter markings.

Looking about her all the time, pocket mice have very acute eyesight, as she placed the twelfth twig she came upon a patch of tiny wild strawberries, now if there was anything in the world that Fleur liked better she had not found it, she loved wild strawberries they were her absolute favourite food of all. he looked around, happily she ate some and then gathered more for her supper, careful only to take what she needed as she could come everyday and harvest more, as she needed them and as they were available. She placed the strawberries onto a leaf, these were the ones she had chosen for her supper, she would take them with her. She continued to place her twigs, making a detour around the strawberries, so that they were now within her boundary, it did however make her circle a little odd shaped, still that did not matter too much she thought.

Planting her seventeenth twig, she caught glimpse of something shiny and sparkly, she went over to it, it was a little bigger than she herself was, and she could see a little pocket mouse looking at her. Excitedly she waved and walked forward, ouch, she exclaimed picking herself up, the other pocket mouse had pushed her away and she had sat on the ground. Bemused she looked again, and there was the little pocket mouse brushing herself off just like Fleur was doing, she had on the same blue coloured pinafore that Fleur herself was wearing. Just then Fleur realized, feeling somewhat silly, that this was not in fact another pocket mouse, but a reflection of her self. This must be a mirror, her mother had told her about mirrors and how useful they could be. She walked around the back of it, it was just a plain black colour. Fleur wondered if she would be able to get it to the terracotta flower pot, she carefully tried to lift it, and to her delight it was not at all heavy just awkward, so she trundled it slowly to her pot. She then returned and took her leaf containing the strawberries, so she would not forget them.

continuation

Fleur looked around her, she needed to clean out the terracotta flower pot. She spotted a fallen pine branch, went over to it, picked it up and tested it, perfect, it would do very nicely. She headed back to the flower pot and proceeded to de-cobweb it, the branch and Fleur made an excellent team, soon all the cobwebs were gone. The flower pot, however still looked grubby, so Fleur sat down to think how she could get it really clean, when she suddenly remembered her mother, when she was cleaning things she used a thick leaf full of clear sap. Fleur looked around, there just a short way from her was just the plant she needed, she recognised it being used by her mother.

Once she had gathered an armful she returned to the flower pot and set about cleaning it inside, it was very hard work as there was so much ground on dirt, and Fleur was only a tiny pocket mouse. Eventually exhausted she stepped back to admire her work, it just looked so much better, her eyes went to the outside and she decided tomorrow would be soon enough to clean that.  Her immediate concern now was to locate things she would need in her first home.

She recalled having seen some sheep wool caught up in a very brambly bush, she believed it would make the very softest of beds, if she could find something to put it in. She would roll the table and feathers home as well.  Setting off, she found the sheep wool and only just managed to reach it without getting bitten by the brambles, luckily as she tugged it, the only piece she could reach, it dislodged and down came far more than Fleur had realized was there. Picking it up she returned to the table, putting the sheep wool inside it, she then very cleverly remembered the blue stretchy material in her pocket, this she stretched over the the wool around the table rim and secured tightly with the string tail. She picked up the feathers and dropped the pebble in her pocket. Next she flipped the table onto it’s side and slowly pushed against it, to her joy once it started moving it took no effort to continue, just to guide it, so she made her way back to the terracotta flower pot. Once she had stowed these things inside, she thought she would go and have a look around for something suitable as a bed base.

Continuation

Feeling a little better Fleur went further into the dense undergrowth, until she found a hollow in an old log the undergrowth had swallowed up and grown around. She warily looked and smelled the hollow, just in case someone else was in residence, but no she was in luck, it was empty and did not appear to have been used by anyone for a long time. Looking around her, she saw some dry leaves, and also as luck would have it, she found some soft thistle down that had got caught up in the tangle undergrowth. First she gathered some dry leaves and spread them in the hollow, she then went back for the thistle down which she spread over the dry leaves. When she was satisfied, she went out again and to her immense delight spotted just what she was looking for, a large furry green leaf, broken off of a dock plant, she pulled this back to the hollow, she went in before it, and settled herself in her nest then pulled the leaf over her. Perfect she thought, no one will guess I am here, they will just see the dock leaf. She settled down, with her long tail wrapped around her, and closed her little eyes, very very soon she was fast asleep. Tomorrow her adventure would begin to find a home for herself.

Dawn arrived and with it the wonderful chorus of birdsong. Fleur woke and stretched, suddenly remembering all that had happened the previous day. She wondered about her family, did they know what had happened to her? Would she ever see any of them again?

She knew she could look after herself as her parents had taught all their children, the skill Pocket Mice needed for when thy left home to set up their own homes, but never as far away as Fleur found herself. She wondered to herself if their were any other pocket mice in this area, still time would tell. After she had eaten some seeds she looked for more berries, she then straightened up the hollow, just in case she would need it again. When she was satisfied with it, she went scurrying off through the undergrowth, into a much less dense area until she found herself in a very pleasant hedge. Soon she came upon a leaf holding the morning dew, she carefully tilted it and drank her fill of the sweet, cool dew, feeling refreshed she set off.

The sun was rising and the day promised to be dry and warm. Fleur looked about her, which way should she go? Eventually she decided on the right, the hedge thinned more until she came to a small meadow, it was full of wild flowers, Fleur sighed, this would be lovely, if she could just find a place to call home.

As she wondered around the meadow, she found all sorts of interesting things, some very pretty feathers, which she put in a pile with a pebble on top to weigh them down and keep them in one place. Next she found a small tower, it was made of something she had never encountered before, she pushed it, and to her delight it moved, it was not at all heavy as she had imagined it would be, she looked at it again, and in her minds eye she saw it turned over, with the solid bit on top, and she knew it would make a wonderful table, if she just had a home to put it in. She rolled it over beside the feathers.

Just then out of the corner of her eye she spotted what looked like a large piece of terracotta sticking out of the earth, hurriedly she made her way over to it. She stood and looked, she just gazed and gazed, knowing she had indeed found her home, for it was not just a piece of terracotta, it was an entire large terracotta flower pot.

She looked in it, it was currently filled with cobwebs, but Fleur could see beyond that, she could see it cleaned out and made comfortably into her very own home. It was perfectly situated, somewhat sheltered from predators, but looking out on all the beautiful meadow flowers, Oh how Fleur loved them. There was just something about their beauty that moved her deeply and drew her to them.

Continuation

After flying for what seemed a very long time to little Fleur, she noticed ahead in the distance a flock of birds, she had no idea what sort they were or indeed where they were going, but she could see that they were on a collision course with her blue sphere.

All as one the birds flew upwards in order to avoid the blue sphere, but the turbulence of their wings sent the blue sphere spiralling downwards. As it got lower and lower Fleur wondered about just letting go and taking a chance on a soft landing, before she could decide, she heard a gentle hissing sound, as she looked up she could see the sphere getting smaller and smaller. The smaller it got the faster it and Fleur went down, until at last with a small bump Fleur found herself on mossy grass.

She let go of the tail she was clutching in her paws, and went to what had been the beautiful blue sphere, it was now just a piece of blue material that was quite stretchy. She folded it and put it in her pocket.

Feeling very small and alone, she looked around at her surroundings. She was on a patch of soft mossy grass, in the middle of a circle of silver trees. She looked up and saw the sun had moved far to the West, soon it would be setting and dusk would fall. Being a sensible little Pocket Mouse she knew she must not stay out in the open, where any predator could see her, she must find herself shelter for tonight at least, and then look tomorrow for a more permanent home for her to start her new life on her own. She gulped at the enormity of it all, the tasks in front of her, she wiped away a tear from her eye as she thought of her family. Wearily and unhappily she made her way through the circle of silver trees into a nearby undergrowth, as she burrowed into the thickest part she came across some berries, these would at least keep her from going hungry. Then to her delight she found some seeds on the ground, she picked them up, dusted them off and put them in her pocket with the blue stretchy material. She would eat these later and keep some for tomorrow. The berries would also prevent her from being thirsty, as they were very juicy. She knew in the morning she would find refreshing morning dew to drink. Luckily her parents had taught all their children how to survive on their own, should it become necessary.