Seanchai - An Irish Storyteller

When Pigs Fly. . .

Sometimes in life we need a little inspiration to keep us going – to keep us moving forward toward our goals. It’s hard to keep focused sometimes and it’s really easy to lose track of what we really want out of life. All too often we lose sight of what is really important.

I feel at times that I’m losing track of what it is I really want to be doing with my life. The important things in life are still abundantly clear to me - my Mom, my partner and my health.

I find myself constantly looking around for clues and signs that I am on the right track – am I going where I need to go, am I meeting who I need to meet, am I being true to myself?

After my Dad passed away this past fall I find that I am looking for signs that might be coming from him. My Dad, no matter what, was always a source of reassurance when times got rough and it was not long after he passed away that I found myself at the hospital with my Mom - it was one of those rough times. She was there to have a biopsy on a lymph node suspected to be once again cancerous and I was there to hold her hand. I paced the floor waiting and felt sad that my Dad was not there to hold her hand. He was not there to sit with us while we waited . . . he just wasn’t there. I wasted time by wondering through the gift shop looking at the items set neatly (though compactly) on the shelves. I was only half looking at the merchandise, I was really off in my own little world, wishing, hoping and praying (and I’m not religious) that my Dad could show me a sign that everything would be ok. It was at that moment that I received my wish and there on the shelf in front of me sat a flying pig.

It had long been a running joke between my parents and me that I would get pregnant when pigs flew. Briefly pigs did fly . . . but not for long. Since that time I have looked in vein for any kind of flying pig. So to see it there on the shelf in the hospital gift shop of all places seemed to be a sign of reassurance – a sign that my Dad was still around and thinking of us.

I have seen the pig fly twice more since that day – once at the shop across from a new job and again on Christmas morning as a gift from the love of my life. These pigs seem to be letting me know that I am on the right track and that everything would be alright. There are days when I wonder if I’m just being crazy, who in there right mind looks to a flying pig for guidance . . . it’s at those times that another one flies by. I have learned to just have faith.

Worry looks down

Faith looks up

Love perseveres

And hope floats

Chin up! As my Grandmother used to say (or quote) - “Laugh and the world laughs with you. Cry and you cry alone.”

I hope that some day soon - that is if you don't have one already - that all of you find your flying pig J





The little silver pig is what I found at the hospital
gift shop - the garden ornament was my
Christmas Angel - and the flock of piggy's
is what I found across the street from my new job.

The dummy "Sophia"

This post is in essence a re post . . . it's Sophia Takes the Cake, but I have placed separations where I hope to have illustrations. It's kind of a "dummy" of the book I would eventually like to see in print.
If you are attempting to write your own children's story creating a "dummy" book is a great way to visualize the end result for yourself and in some cases can be sent to publishers as you attempt to find one to pick it up for print. If you do go the route of traditional publication for your book the publisher themselves prefer to choose an illustrator - In choosing to self-publish, as is my case, you may keep that creative control and won't risk losing the integrity of your story.
I feel that illustrations are just as important to a children's story as the story itself. Having read a great deal of children's stories in researching my own (plus I took children's literature in University) I have seen that some were very simplistic and had it not been for the images the story would not have been as good. - or at the very least the book as a whole would not have been as valuable.
I am lucky to have a friend, who happens to be a wonderful artist, and he is contemplating the idea of illustrating my Sophia story. It's exciting to to think I might be able to see it come even more to life through illustrations.
Michael Marcotte is an extremely talented and classically trained artist who owns and operates his own studio in Tobermory, Ontario. Please stop by Apollo Art Production if you get a chance - for now visit http://www.apolloartproductions.com/

Below you can see what has been sent to Michael, as he starts to imagine and create the world of Sophia Takes the Cake. . .

***

Sophia Takes the Cake

Notes:

• story set at Christmas time in the 1840’s
• Fin and Finette were white poodles given to the girls as gifts. . .
• Their mother was very ill in the 1840’s – she died in 1846, so I have chosen not mention her.
• The story will possibly go through another round of editing, but it really shouldn’t change much more – really just changes to grammar and overall clean-up where needed.

Reference Images - what Sophia and her father really looked like  followed by their cozy little cottage ;) . . .

Illustration 1 - Cover Art

1- Inside initial page repeat of Title

2 - Next Page – Thank you to . . .

2 a. - Backside page  2 - copy Camilla’s Letter

3 - Next page - portrait of Sophia MacNab with preface/intro

Story

(Pages 1-27 – approximately 15 illustrations give or take)

1 - Sophia sat looking out her bedroom window. The world outside was white with snow and she wanted to go out and play in it with her sister Minnie and their dogs, Fin and Finette.

2/3 - Sophia ran to her Papa, who was sitting in his study reading.
"Papa please may Minnie and I go outside to play?" She pleaded. Her Papa looked up from his book and replied, "Sophia, it is much too cold outside for you to go out and play. A snow storm is on its way and it will be supper soon." Sophia sighed as she folded her arms across her chest.
"Maybe tomorrow will be better" Papa said as he got up from his chair and walked over to his young daughter, "for now why don’t you go back to your room and play with your sister. Later tonight I will read you a story before bed." Sophia’s Papa gave her hug and a kiss on the forehead and sent her back upstairs.

3/4 - Halfway up the staircase Sophia stopped and wondered what fun she could have inside. She didn’t really want to play a boring game with her sister. Maybe the servants in the house had something more fun for her and Minnie to do. Sophia ran up the stairs back to her room where her sister sat playing with a doll.
"Come Minnie, let’s go see what Cook is doing downstairs." Sophia said excitedly.
"But Sophia, we are not supposed to go downstairs. If Papa finds out he will be mad, and Cook doesn’t like us in her kitchen." Minnie was hardly able to finish her sentence when Sophia took her hand and led her to the opening of their bedroom door.

"Well then Minnie, I guess we will have to make it our secret mission to get downstairs without Papa or Cook knowing." She grinned as she led her sister quietly down the servants’ staircase.
Sophia had forgotten that to get to the basement she and Minnie would have to get passed their Aunts room. The girls Aunt was very strict and would be very cross if she caught her nieces playing around the servants stairs to the basement and even more cross if she found out they had gone down them.

5/6 - The servants were always busy working. They were always going up and down the stairs with hot water, trays of food and dirty dishes. If Sophia and Minnie were to get in the way of one of the busy servants they could be hurt accidentally, or accidentally cause one of the servants to be hurt.
Sophia turned to her sister as they came closer to their Aunts sitting room door and slowly raised a finger to her mouth, "Shhhh" she whispered to her sister. Minnie pretended to place a button over her mouth and the two tiptoed passed the door. Inside the room Sophia and Minnie could hear their Aunt singing Christmas carols softly. A floor board creaked as they made their way around the corner passed their Aunt’s door and the singing from inside the room stopped. Sophia and Minnie pressed their backs against the wall around the corner from their Aunt’s Room, just as their Aunt opened the door.
"Hmmm" said their Aunt as she looked around suspiciously and then stepped back into her room closing the door behind her.
Sophia and Minnie breathed a sigh of relief and continued to make their way to the top of the basement stairs. Sophia peeked over the railing and Minnie peaked through them as they tried to see or hear any of the servants.

7/8 - Besides the Cook there were three other servants who worked in the house; the butler, a footman and a maid. The Butler Sophia thought, must be in his room, the footman was probably in the stables tending to the horses and Bridget the maid was likely nearby in the basement helping cook prepare supper. Christmas time was fast approaching and guests would be arriving to stay at the house for the holidays soon. Cook was very busy preparing whatever she could for the upcoming holiday parties.

9/10 - As Sophia and Minnie began to take their first few steps down the basement stairs they could hear the sound of pots and pans clattering and then the sweet and savoury smells of the kitchen began to fill their noses. The two girls smiled at each other and in unison quietly said "Mmmm."
Once they reached the bottom of the basement stairs the girls quickly and quietly peeked into the kitchen. They could see that Cook and the maid Bridget were busy tending the kitchen fires and gathering water from the pump. Their backs were turned to Sophia and Minnie and the sounds of the pump, the crackling fires and the clanging pots and pans made it so that the girls were free to make a little bit of noise as they moved down the hallway to the dairy. The dairy is where cook would be storing the sweets and desserts for supper that night, as well as anything she could store ahead of time for Christmas.

11/12 - Sophia opened the door to the dairy and she and Minnie stepped inside. The sight before them was one of magic! The sweet smell of sugar and cinnamon filled the air.
There were cookies, tarts, meringues, chocolates and right in the very middle of it all the most wonderful Christmas cake covered in marzipan icing. The cake must have stood three feet tall and had four very thick layers. It was decorated with holly and ivy made out of icing and at the very top was a sparkling star. Sophia and Minnie stood in wonder, mouths open and eyes wide. If only they could have just a small taste . . .
Sophia began to make her way closer to the cake and as she did she heard Bridget ask Cook loudly if she wanted three or four more pounds of butter. There wasn’t much time, so Sophia and Minnie quickly hid inside a cupboard out of sight. Bridget entered the room wondering why the door to the dairy was open. She shrugged her shoulders and continued on her quest for Cook’s butter.

13/14 - Inside the cupboard Sophia and Minnie sat perfectly still until Minnie saw movement on a shelf behind Sophia’s head. Minnie was just about to scream when Sophia reached out her hand and covered her sister’s mouth. Sophia slowly turned her head just in time to see a little mouse scurry behind some butter moulds and jars in the cupboard. She took a deep breath and closed her mouth and eyes tight in hopes that Bridget would leave soon and she wouldn’t end up with a mouse in her hair!
Bridget finished measuring out the butter for Cook and when she left the dairy she made sure she closed the door tightly behind her. She didn’t want Cook to be mad at her for letting any warm air into the dairy that might spoil anything.

15/16 - Sophia and Minnie quickly but quietly emerged from the cupboard hiding place with their eyes again staring at the beautiful cake. A butter knife lay on the counter and Sophia quickly picked it up.
"Oh no Sophia you mustn’t do that!" cried Minnie. "If we are caught we will be in such trouble, and it is so close to Christmas!"
"Minnie, don’t be so worried!" Sophia replied. "The cake is so big. No one will notice just a little piece . . . or two missing."
Sophia cut down into the cake taking a slice for her, a slice for Minnie and one for each of their dogs Fin and Finette. Placing the slices inside a cloth from the counter Sophia secured her prize and reached for her sister’s hand.

17/18 - The door to the dairy was stuck and Sophia would need all her strength to open the door. She handed the cake over to Minnie and she pulled on the door with all her might. The door gave way and popped open throwing Sophia and Minnie to the floor behind them. The two girls did not make a sound and waited to hear if the sound of footsteps from the kitchen were on the way.
Everything sounded quiet, so they checked their cake and it too had survived the fall. Standing up and brushing themselves off, Minnie and Sophia made their way out into the hall and back to the basement stairs, making sure to close the Dairy room door tightly behind them when they left.
As they passed the kitchen they saw that Bridget and Cook were still very busy, so they

19/20 - continued on toward the stairs. Just as they were about to head back up the stairs they heard the floor creak at the top. At the same time behind them in the kitchen they heard Cook ask Bridget to go again and bring even more butter from the dairy.
What would they do - Sophia and Minnie felt trapped with no place to hide! The only place for them to go was inside the cupboard for the dumb waiter. The dumb waiter was a sort of elevator that was used to bring food from the kitchen in the basement to the dining room on the main floor. When Cook had food ready in the dumb waiter, she would ring a bell and the Butler would come in and pull on a rope bringing the dumb waiter up to his pantry. After the food had been eaten the leftovers and the dirty dishes were sent back down on the dumb waiter to the basement to be stored and cleaned.

20/21 - Sophia and Minnie quickly stepped inside the cupboard of the dumb waiter and closed the doors behind them. As they shuffled to find a place to sit down on one of the shelves inside, they noticed a few covered trays next to them. Sophia felt the covers and they were warm.
"Oh no" she whispered to Minnie. Just then the bell rang in the Butler’s pantry and they heard the Butler walk into the room above them.
Sophia and Minnie stared at each other in fear. If they were caught they would be in a lot of trouble. The Butler would surely tell their Aunt and Papa if he found them in the dumb waiter. That would certainly put them on St. Nicholas’ naughty list. Sophia closed her eyes and imagined only getting coal in her stocking for Christmas!
Slowly the dumb waiter began to make its way up from the basement to the main floor just inside the butler’s pantry. Sophia held tight to her sister’s hand as they waited for the pantry doors to open and for their fate to be sealed. "This is it" Sophia thought as she braced herself for the worst!

22/23 - Then it happened. A scream came up from the basement that was so loud and piercing that it stopped everyone in their tracks. The butler left his post by the dumb waiter doors and hurried down the basement stairs. Sophia and Minnie also heard their Aunts door open and then footsteps racing across the floor from their Papa’s study.
Soon all the grown-ups were downstairs tending to Bridget, who had found when she returned to the dairy for more butter, a mouse eating away at some of the desserts.

24/25 - Sophia and Minnie were in luck as they found themselves in the dumb waiter on the main floor, away from all the grown-ups in the house and still in possession of their prized cake. The girls quickly flung open the doors of the dumb waiter and stepped out into the pantry on the main floor of the house. In a hurry they closed the doors behind them and ran up the stairs back to their bedroom. Once inside the girls laughed and jumped under the covers of Sophia’s bed.
Fin and Finette, had been curled up by the fire in the room, but as the girls made their speedy entrance the two dogs made their way to the bed to join them.
Sophia took her package of cake and slowly unwrapped it for Minnie, Fin, Finette and herself to enjoy. The cake melted in their mouths as they ate it, it was so sweet and full of fruits and spices and the icing was so sweet and creamy. In a matter of minutes the cake was gone and Sophia and Minnie lay back in the bed with full and satisfied bellies.
The two sisters grew tired as they lay there thinking of their adventure. All the thoughts that Sophia had earlier of playing outside in the snow had left her and she and Minnie drifted off to sleep.

26/27 - Downstairs Papa wondered if the commotion in the basement had frightened his two girls, so he made his way up to check on them. He opened the door and saw them sleeping peacefully together in Sophia’s bed. How sweet he thought as he went to tuck them into the bed. As he drew closer he saw the cloth that Sophia had used to carry up the cake. Crumbs were scattered on the bed and icing could still be seen in the corners of their mouths.
"A mouse indeed" he said smiling to himself.

Papa leaned in to tuck his two little princesses into bed for the night. When he stood back he thought to himself that they would all certainly go out to play in the snow tomorrow!

Say What!?

. . . a few poems . . . enjoy.

The Storm
From you Eyes I see the sunlight,
flickering out across the sea.
Thunder rolls in the distance,
drowning out our hopes and dreams.
Lightening dances in the darkness,
echoing out beneath our screams.
Fire catches all around us,
leaving only memories.


The Nerve
Tongue in cheek
I bite down hard
How will I get through this -
It's too damn hard!

Roll up my sleeves
Dig in deep
Make positive changes
And don't hear bleep

Enough is enough
This novice knows some
Enough to know
That I am perfectly numb

I see the frustration
Managed by fear
Experience is knowing
Don't shed one tear

Caring is weakness
Organisation is for fools
"This is on you -
You dumb little tool"

So, you know what I think
I have from the start
You can take this and shove it
Straight from my heart


The Smile
It might not be real
That smile that you wear.
But it means everything
To whom you do share.

It lights up the room
It lights up a life
It brings hope and happiness
It knows not your strife

So keep on smiling my dear friend
For everyday is brighter, with you on the mend
:)

Sweet Sophia - the old girl has life in her yet!

If you are out there - whoever you may be (some of you I know of course,) following along to my blog, I am happy to say that Sophia Takes the Cake is going to print.
My only issue left is that I need an illustrator, and I would like someone local who wants to work with me on my vision for the story. I'm hoping for someone just starting out, as I am and who is willing to take this on as a learning experience more than anything else.
At this point, while I know the story will be published I can't tell what, if any profit it will make. However since illustrations are just as important as the story, especially in regard to children's books I am willing to work out something that would be fair for us both. Right now I would just like to see the story published and to bring attention to my wish to write and to the illustrators capabilities as an artist for further projects.
Send me a message if you are serious and would like to learn more!!



The lovely young lady above is (or was) the real Sophia and this portrait would have been done in the 1840's. You may learn more about Sophia and her life by visiting Dundurn National Historic Site in Hamilton, Ontario - or you can Google her where you might be lead to a page about her father Sir Allan MacNab - or possible to her Great-great-grandmother of Camilla, Duchess of Cornwall.

Spin, Spin sugar - A reason for everything, a glass of wine and everything will be just fine

Driving home tonight I felt the need to reaffirm with myself what it is that I want out of life.


My most immediate thought was that I needed a glass of wine . . . that of course would wait until I got home – but at least it was something that I could make happen pretty well immediately.

 

So with the thought of a lavishly large glass of cabernet sauvignon waiting for me at home I pondered just how disconcerting it was to find oneself at a certain age and not doing what it was that you thought you would be. Even after having spent years attempting to do just that.


How do teenagers figure this stuff out – they are forced to make decisions about there career at such an early age. All I can remember thinking as a teen was that I really didn’t know what specific career I wanted to take part in – all I knew were a couple key things.

1 - I didn’t want to do anything with math, and 2 - I loved to write.

My best advice to teens being forced into choosing their career path at such an early age is, to be true to you and to do something in tune with the things you love and are passionate about.

Once upon a time in my life I did love my job - it was such a great job that I didn't even think of it as a job. One day I found myself becoming complacent and thought I could do better . . . it turns out maybe I should have stayed where I was – but at the time I thought I was making the best decision. Being me I also have to find a positive way to spin it – the decisions that I made weren’t bad ones . . . they all had a reason, I just had to go on this journey. If I hadn’t gone on this journey I would not have met the people that I did, nor would I have learned the things I learned and I wouldn’t be where I am now, who I am now or with the wonderful man in my life now had I stayed where I was when I was supposedly so happy. And as the adage goes, you can't go home again because home isn't the same as when you left it. And that certainly rings true of the workplace that I loved and still hold very dear to my heart. It's not the same, and if I were to go back now I would be very unhappy.


I left the job I loved for a fantastic opportunity that was in essence handed to me when I was in my early 20's. I thought I had it made, and many others did too. Unfortunately it was all a show and I soon came to find that I wasn't ready to handle the blows thrown at me by people I thought would be more respectable - they certainly had been people that I had respected - at any rate, I recall being in the office one day working on one thing or another and being asked in front of a number of people, "and what is it you would like to be when you grow up my dear - that is outside of something the boss chases around the desk?" I guess somehow this withered up old prune was satisfied by trying to belittle me in front of a crowd. Without batting an eye (I knew enough that that would be a sign of weakness, I waited till after when I was alone to be upset) I replied that I wanted "to be happy." My answer was unexpected and she shut up, never to bother me again - to my face at least. Maybe I wasn't the bimbo dip-shit she thought I was. I do believe the Grinch’s heart grew two sizes that day.


Fast forward several years and I grew even more of a backbone, perhaps spurred on by the displeasing and unfair working conditions I encountered in a variety of places - I was becoming jaded. I armed myself with knowledge, attending human resources classes and becoming, of all things (I'm not sure how) a union steward - seems somehow people saw me as knowledgeable and fair. Unfortunately working with the Union allowed me to see even more inequalities and unfairness.


I started to realize that maybe work wasn't everything. It isn't - it is a means to an end and if you are lucky enough, as I was at one time, you will end up doing what it is that you love. It is truly sad that so many people have such a difficult time finding that balance between work and life. In the society we have today life is work and vice versa. Why is it that so many companies and organizations promote a workplace where people arrive at their desk by 9am and don't leave it (only for bathroom breaks) until 5pm? The time for breaks and lunches goes out the window, no one has time. Instead of being encouraged to maintain that balance of life and work, staff are encouraged by example to sit in that one stationary place for hours while their arteries harden - you tell yourself everyone else is doing it, I guess I should too . . . ? You don't want to be seen as not part of the team - a team player willing to go that extra mile like everyone else - after all everyone is busy building the bottom line.


As I drive home saying to myself that things will get better because I am experienced, knowledgeable, qualified and a good worker - I think "how the hell did I get to this place again?" What is it in my life that is most important? My result - My family, my partner and doing something that inspires me. After losing my father this year and fearing the loss of my mother because of her diagnosis with Hodgkin’s Lymphoma I find that I know what is most important - and it isn't working my ass off (mostly in the attempt to cover it) for the Miranda Priestley’s of the world. Miranda should be working for me.

 
Being a part of the rat race is what I wanted to avoid and what I therefore must leave. But how do I navigate myself to where I want to be . . . the answer doesn't come to me immediately - but I know that I will come to it.

 

Give them Everything . . .

And now for something completely different, well at least a little. It's still a story that I wrote - though it was written to be used by someone else for a project that was not my own - the message of this story was meant for them though it was never received. As usual comments and criticism are great and I will continue to work on each story and poem I post to make them better.
It's a darker tale and may not be for everyone . . .

***

I looked out the window and along the laneway watching the fireflies dart back and forth through the trees. A calming breeze drifted through the window rustling the curtains, leaving a chill on my skin. The air was crisp but invigorating and I felt like I could go out and run about 5 miles without batting an eye. I dared not though as the beauty of the twilight was deceiving.

With my eyes shut I could hear the rain begin to fall and I heard a howling sound off in the distance. I shut and locked the windows, drawing the drapes across, then crawled into bed.

Some time passed  when suddenly, without warning, the entire house shook. I bolted straight up in bed and looked at the clock - It was flashing 12:30 am, the power had gone out. I glanced at my wrist watch which read 3:15 am.

In the distance I heard a loud crash and glass breaking. Someone or something was in the house. The flashing of the clock provided my only source of light and in a moment it went out. I sat in complete and terrifying darkness.

The floor in the hallway creaked and I immediately felt that I needed to run – but where! I sat frozen in place, listening as the creaking sounds came closer and closer until it stopped just outside my room.

My mind was flooded with ideas of what to do or where to run. I was paralyzed with fear, until the house shook once again.

The lights flickered and everything around me began to crack and heave. The bed lurched forward and I was thrown to the floor just as it began to give way. There was no where for me to go, but down. Everything went black.

My eyes flashed open and immediately cinched shut again, as the glaring light filled the room. Hesitantly I opened my eyes again and memories of what had happened the night before flooded back. I was struck with terror. Where was the intruder who had been outside my bedroom door? My eyes darted everywhere but all I could see was destruction.

There were broken pieces of wood and glass along with a whole assortment of my personal belongings all mingled together in what had become a mash up of the main floor and the basement. Even though I sat among this destruction, I myself felt fine – other than fear over where the intruder had gone. I shifted my weight and shoved my mattress slightly aside so that I could sit up. I swept a hand across my forehead to wipe away the sweat I cold feel running down my cheek. To my surprise it was blood from a cut at my hairline. I traced my fingers over it and pulled out a small piece of glass that must have been from the window in my room. The one I had been looking out of only hours before. As I wiped away the blood with the sheet from the bed I noticed that the air was just as crisp and invigorating as it had been last night. It gave me the strength and courage to climb out of the rubble. I stood in the spot near where my window had been and looked back down on what I used to call a home. I saw nothing of the intruder and assumed that he or she must be buried in crumbled house. Hopefully they were buried enough that they would be unable to get out, at least until I was able to get some safe distance away.

I turned my back on my former home and looked to the laneway. There were no fireflies at this time, only blinding sun.

A rustling noise alerted me back to the destruction of the house. The intruder was on the move.

Retreating back behind a tree, I watched in silence, waiting to see the terrifying figure that had stalked my home the night before. My fears were solidified as the being was more horrible that I had imagined. Struggling to stand and find its bearings the being stood at about 4 feet tall. The innocence of its appearance was its greatest weapon as it usually left its victims completely defenceless and therefore open to its attack. It ran under the shadow of another nearby tree. Sunlight left these beings dazed as it burned their skin and blurred their vision.

The being turned swiftly as if something in the distance caught its attention. A small dog from the house down the lane had gotten loose and it approached the being with a sense of familiarity, its tail wagging excitedly. It was drawn to the beings deceitful innocence and in a moment it was no more. I turned away in horror.

My neighbours’ house was just up the lane, about 200 feet or so. I couldn’t see for the rolling hills and trees, but I decided to try and make my way there. The being was still busy with its breakfast as I inched my way in the opposite direction trying to keep cover among the trees.

As I made my way over the first hill I could see my neighbours home clearly. I couldn’t see any other living thing, which made me feel safe and I decided to make a run for it. I took one last glance in the direction of the being and its prey. My body went numb and I gasped - the being was gone. Only the lifeless dissected remains of the neighbours’ dog were left behind.

Frantically I looked in every direction and ran for the front door of the house. Everything seemed eerily still, except for me as I ran. Leaves and twigs crunched under my feet, my heart pounded and my mind raced.

There was still no sign of the being as I came up to the door and grabbed a hold of the handle.

“Daddy?!” called a voice inquisitively from behind me. I pushed through the door and turned to see my daughter smiling a devilish blood stained grin. She was standing several feet away, at a point where the driveway met the road.

I instinctively slammed the door shut and braced my body against it as I tried desperately to catch my breath.

“I love you Daddy, let me in. The light it hurts me.” Said a small voice from the mail slot below.

I turned the latch on the lock and ran for the kitchen at the back of the house. These neighbours, I knew, had a panic room in their basement. They were prepared for every attack that the beings made.

I took the basement stairs in two steps. The door to the protected room was closed and locked, meaning that someone had to be inside. I pounded on the door, loudly whispering “It’s me Nathan, your neighbour. Let me in. Please let me in!”

A small scope extended from the top of the door and angled down toward my face, then scanned the room and stairs behind me. In a moment it was gone and the door slid open.

I wasn’t yet in the panic room, just a holding area. After the door closed behind me I was given entry to the inner sanctum.

“We warned you that you wouldn’t be safe.” Said my neighbour Sam as he sat on a chair next to his wife Becky. Becky said nothing; she just sat staring at the floor, a single tear rolling down her cheek.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t believe you.” I nodded toward Sam.

“No one wants to believe that their child is an animal.” He paused. “A monster.” He rephrased.

How did we get to this point I thought to myself. All a parent wants is what is best for their children. We want to make them happy, keep them safe. Now we, the parents, needed to be kept safe from out own children.

For years parents had been giving in to every little thing – we spoiled our children letting them play more and more computer and video games. Their eyes grew weaker and smaller. The slightest bit of sunlight burned their skin so badly that bandages had to be applied.

One day all the video, TV. and computer screens went blank. The children’s eyes widened and they peered in even closer. Suddenly colours, images and sounds began to play. Blinding and deafening to any adult eyes or ears.

Whatever it all was, it left our children only recognizable to us on the outside. Inside something so terrible had occurred, effecting a change so frightening that we knew our children were not our children anymore.

There were parents and others - grandparents, aunts, uncles, and friends - who believed that the children were still in there, somewhere. So they continued to live with them, hoping that medication, discipline and love would bring them back. Those people did not survive.

The rest of us either locked up our children or set them outside. My neighbour and I chose to place our children loose outside hoping that maybe the sunlight one day would somehow bring them back to us. We thought somehow this was more humane than locking them away in a cell to die.

Unfortunately the sun did not cure them. They just ran and would hide until the night came – then no one was safe.

My daughter, as I knew her to be at one time, was a beautiful vibrant girl. Like all the other children she fell into the trap of always wanting more. More lights, more sounds, more buttons to push. She was swept into a world that wasn’t real and she never returned. A shell of her was all that remained.

No one knew exactly where the message that all the children saw played from, or who had created it. Why?! It would be a question that we would have for the rest of our lives. All we had to go on was speculation and the leading theory was that it was a game gone wrong. Instead of making our children slightly more addicted to their gaming products they went too far and destroyed our children. In destroying them, they destroyed themselves and the world fell into chaos. Parents everywhere were left to deal with the destruction, mayhem and devastation that swiftly followed.

Media and technology everywhere fell apart. Communication around the world became almost impossible. The only thing that worked were old ham radios and the occasional rotary phone if you could find them . . . but you never knew who might answer at the other end of the call.

Men, like my neighbour Sam, were at an advantage. He knew a little about a lot of things, namely computers. He built the safe room with cameras all over his house, in and out, so that he and his wife could keep track of their children. Though they were trapped inside, they strangely were still able to somewhat keep their family together, albeit in a very unorthodox way. It was a very unfortunate illusion.

I watched the array of monitors that Sam had attached to cameras throughout his home. Everywhere, in every room, I saw destruction. Broken windows, furniture, clothes and keepsakes strewn about. In one small room, the bathroom I saw what appeared to be a leg dangling over the side of the tub. As I noticed it I remarked to Sam, “What is that?!” I leaned in more closer and Sam zoomed the camera in. The lights gave a flicker and then it all came into view.

“It’s James . . .” Sam stopped. “Last night he was here with your daughter and some of the other kids from around, they were playing house.” He paused again and looked at Becky. “I wouldn’t let her go to him. That’s why she’s like that.” He stated glancing grimly in her direction.

I looked over at Becky as she still sat staring at the floor. My gaze returned to the monitor and then to Sam. “What Happened?”

The drain in the bath was clogged and he thought he could vacuum it out. It’s just that that old thing wasn’t meant for water – he placed the whole thing in there and got in with it.” Sam turned away. He sobbed quietly as he moved to sit next to his wife.

It seemed impossible to think that a parent wouldn’t go to their child in need. The reality was if Becky had gone, she never would have come back.

Apparently as James was passing, a tremendous energy was released from him and from all of the children. It’s what had initially shaken my house the night before. The children or beings as we sometimes call them, especially when we don’t know them, were frightened and they scattered.

This is why my daughter Amy had come home and when she couldn’t get in she became angry. One thing that we observed was that when the children became angry or frustrated widespread devastation would follow. Amy’s anger must have caused my house to crumble to the ground.

Sam and Becky were lucky to be alive. It probably helped that the house and panic room were reinforced with steel and concrete.

I reached for the monitor that was focused on the bathroom, where James lifeless body lay, and switched it off.

Sam held on to Becky’s still and silent body. I could hear him cry and tell her that he loved her.

“Things will be ok.” He said to her almost as if he were trying to convince himself. I stared at them huddled together, and tried to believe in his words myself.

Sometime later I awoke; I had managed to steal a nap. Sam and Becky too, had found the comfort of sleep and the two sat together as they were before I had drifted off.

I looked to the monitors, and all seemed quiet except that it was getting darker as night was beginning to fall.

I switched the bathroom monitor back on and stared for moment.

James was gone.

I panicked – where could a lifeless boy go?! Had one of the other beings – maybe the one that had been my Amy – taken him somewhere? If so where?

Many questions filled by mind as I frantically scanned the monitors.

Sam shifted awake, “What’s wrong?” He said as he came over to my side.

“It’s James; he’s not in the bath tub anymore.” I replied.

“Maybe he’s alive!” Becky finally spoke from across the room. She moved toward the door but Sam quickly stopped her from opening it. She struggled a little professing that she needed to be with her son.

“That’s not our son anymore Becky!” Sam shook his wife to bring her back to some form of reality. Becky gave up her struggle and again took position sitting staring at the floor. When she seemed settled enough again Sam came to sit with me again and we both scanned the monitors.

“Wait! There.” Said Sam motioning to the monitor focused on the living room.

The room was mostly dark, only the outline of shapes could be seen moving quickly about, until suddenly all movement stopped.

“What do you think they are doing?” I asked Sam.

“I don’t know.” He replied. “It can’t be good though.”

In a moment a light appeared in the room – the television was on.

“We haven’t had television in months!” He said a little confused.

All that appeared on the screen was static. The light it created though showed the eerily illuminated faces of the children as they stood holding hands in front of the screen. Two faces stood out to me, one was Amy and the other was James. Sam motioned for me to be quiet. He looked back to Becky, still staring at the floor looking lost.

The light from the television went out. Moments later the screen for the computer in the office down the hall flickered on and like the television it was just a hollow glow.

The children now gathered in the office and seemed to be anticipating something as if one of their favourite shows or games was about to appear. Nothing was happening – just stilled silence. My own anticipation was growing – my stomach was in knots. Something had to happen . . . and hopefully it wouldn’t be too terrible. I swallowed hard and breathed in deeply. Both Sam and I inched slightly closer to the screen.

The stares of the children became more intent and the computer monitor glowed ever brighter. The television came back and all the lights and other electronics in the house began to flicker. The children began to scream, we could hear it through the monitors in the basement as well as echoing down the stairs. They began throwing tantrums as it seemed what they wanted was not there. Suddenly they just stopped altogether, something that Sam and I, and now Becky too, seemed to find unsettling. Turning slowly they focused their attention on the camera that Sam had positioned to monitor the room. What followed next was a sound so ear piercing all of which seemed to be emanating from the children.

Sam, Becky and I instinctively covered our ears as we continued to watch the screen. Every screen seemed to burst into flame including those we were watching in the safe room. We covered our heads and fell to the floor. Everything went silent.

There were no more monitors for us to see what was happening in the rest of the house, or even outside. Sam quickly extinguished the small fires that had ignited all around us.

We sat not knowing what to do next. We seemed to sit for hours, and heard not a sound outside the double doors and thick walls that surrounded our cell.

Hours turned into what seemed life 2 or maybe 3 days. Finally, with no food or water left to speak of we decided that we had to emerge from our cell.

When we did we were shocked to find that nothing remained. The house was gone and the trees that had been around the house were gone too. In fact for miles around you could see no vegetation at all – just a blank lifeless landscape. How we managed to survive in the tiny little room, I do not know.

Sam, Becky and I surveyed what was left of the house. The computer room was now crumpled into the basement and it was there that we found several small figures, laid out together side by side.

Becky soon spotted the figure of her son and ran to him. Sam didn’t even try to stop her, there didn’t seem to point anymore. She knelt beside him and swept him up into her arms.

I saw Amy too, but couldn’t bring myself to go to her. We held our heads in silence.

“Mom.” Cried a small voice.

James coughed and his mother held him out before her so she could have a look at his dirtied face. Her eyes filled with tears and her whole body began to shake. Sam positioned himself around her to steady her hold on their son.

I felt fear, but it quickly diminished as something, and I can’t quite tell what it was, just felt different. The deadly innocence that once seemed to fill James – to fill all of them – seemed changed. It seemed to have vanished.

Amy and the others all awoke and none seemed to have any idea of what had happened, or how they had got there.

“Where’s Mom?” asked Amy. “We were supposed to watch a movie together.”

I stopped in my tracks. That was what they were to do together just before all of this chaos began. It was when the movie started that the strange message appeared on the screen.

I couldn’t tell Amy the truth. For months after the message, Amy’s mother tried to bring her back; she cried and prayed day and night for her “child” to come back to her. All that remained was a shell, a vicious shell that eventually killed her. Killed my wife and Amy’s loving mother.

How could I tell a child that her mother was dead and the she had done it? I was barely able to look at her myself at this point, but somewhere deep inside I felt that this “being” truly once again was my Amy.

I looked to Sam, Becky and James. Then I looked to the line up of other children standing among the desolation that remained.

“Why don’t we see about finding a home and something to eat?” I said.

“Sounds good Dad” Said Amy “But we already have something to eat.”

The children parted to reveal their tasty meal. Our family cat lay stunned on the ground at their feet. The children turned and tore into it as though it were feeding time in the lion’s den.

Sam and Becky looked in horror, frozen with fear as James smiled innocently back at them.

That was the last time I saw any of them . . . alive at least. The life I had known; my wife, my daughter – they were all gone.

The future seems bleak but I am determined to keep living and will remain on the run until I find answers. I hope to one day find an end to this nightmare.

Eulogy for Pa.

My father was a real pain in the ass.

You could even ask him and he would have to agree. He did after all know a thing or two about a pain in the ass. Besides the horseshoes that were jammed up there you could ask him –
“Norman, what burns your ass?”
He would reply, “A flame about this high” (indicating about ass high.)

He was a lucky man who enjoyed gambling. He frequented the Flamborough Casino and in his working days visited many more casinos, race tracks and off track betting locations around the province, in the U.S. and at home in Ireland. He faithfully played Winterio, Lotto 649 and Lotto Max and he won time and time again – always to the family’s amazement. How lucky could one man be!

My Dad’s first gamble was in coming to Canada. At the age of 18 in 1952 he decided that prospects for a good job in Ireland were pretty slim. Not even the fact that he was being scouted for the 1952 Olympics (for running) could convince him to stay in Ireland.
Blame it on years of watching John Wayne conquer the Wild West! Coming to Canada (where his Uncle Billie was awaiting him) seemed like and adventure that would pay off. So, with very little money in his pockets my Dad boarded a boat to Canada.
He struggled a little at first – and he did contemplate going home to Ireland. Steady work didn’t come as quickly as he thought it might and religious prejudice existed in Canada just as it did back home - Uncle Billie as it turned out wasn’t to fond of an upstart Catholic sympathizer. But Dad, even then, was stubborn and wouldn’t give in and soon he settled down working in high rise construction where he became adept at walking the high beams. Eventually he discovered what became his real niche, and his career, working as an elevator mechanic – working first for others, then starting his own business (Multiple Elevator Services Inc.) and at the end of his career he worked as an elevator inspector for the Province.

With a good job on the go, Dad felt good about setting down roots and starting a family.
In 1962 he and his first wife, Violet (or Vi) welcomed April Storm Winnifred (more like a hurricane) followed a couple of years later in 1964 by Cindy Lou . . . who was a wonderful addition to the family. Dad’s #1 and #2 sons.
Life threw some twists and turns and my Dad gambled again and in 1974 he married my Mom. It was a gamble for them both . . . and there have been days when I have heard my mother say “what the hell was I thinking – never marry an Irishman!”
Regardless of the ups and downs, ins and outs of which there were many – they did love each other. That didn’t always shine through, but they did and what they had worked for nearly 38 years.

So I like to think they both won on that gamble – not only did my Mom gain two daughters, but my Dad gained a devoted wife who stuck with him and looked after him right to the very end. She is an awesome woman.

In 1977 Mom and Dad hit the jackpot! On 7-7-77 the family welcomed Tara Shannon. Though not a total win . . . I wasn’t after all a boy. The bets (by my Dad and sisters) were hedging on my coming out a John Edward . . . nonetheless, I became Dad’s the #3 son.

My Dad loved his family!
Sometimes he loved to hate them . . . but you know what they say about the Irish and their tempers, their ability to drink like fish and cry at the drop of a hat . . . it’s only true on days that end in a Y.

All that aside, it’s time to remember the good and throw out the bad.
My father had a big heart and it filled with joy and pride each time a new grandchild or great grandchild was born. He loved his home and he loved it when we all gathered around with in it. He would sit back and take it all in – watch is family have a good time together.

The holidays were always a wonderful time around the Leitch house with food, laughter, decorations, gifts galore and of course family.
But sometimes it still wasn’t enough and my Dad had the need to gamble again.
On Christmas Day 2006, my Dad announced that he was going to the casino for a few hours – just to kill some time while the rest of us went visiting. I thought it seemed a bit sad . . . and imagined my Dad like an orphan sidling up to a slot machine. How wrong was I – we all were – he knew what he was doing and as usual his gamble paid off. He arrived home later that Christmas afternoon $27,000.00 richer.
He was a lucky man.

Not only was he lucky in his countless wins at the casinos, on the lotto, but also in life and with his health. How many people do you know who have survived 2 bypass surgeries, a couple of angiograms and plasties and a number of other invasive and serious procedures. We would sit back in awe of a man who could eat a full holiday feast complete with wine, champagne, sweets and liqueurs and still wake up the next morning! Oh, and did I mention that this was all done while he was a full blown diabetic, with hearth and lung problems – and undergoing dialysis three times a week!



Food was unfortunately losing its charm and Dad’s luck was running out and in his 77th year he peacefully went on to his next gamble and big adventure.

He was the last of four brothers to pass on – and one of the last in his group of friends. I imagine them all up in heaven – or perhaps among us now – having a great time! Dad would be playing pool with Uncle Matt, his beloved Kelsey laying at his feet, listening to one of Uncle Eric’s joke; “Why is Santa Claus always so Jolly? . . . Because he knows where all the naughty girls live!”

Dad would reminisce to me about how I used to ask him if he were a giant and then tell him that he was my hero. I guess he thought that as I grew up I didn’t think that anymore – and to be true sometimes I struggled. To me, my Dad has always been a “Big Fish.” He told these amazing stories that seemed larger than life. Just like I thought he was sometimes. He told me stories of “tickling the trout,” almost catching a specimen blue shark, drinking tales and fairy tales. I thought how could all this be true – but the stories were. And over time I came to understand my Dad – I may not have always agreed with him, but I understood.

So, while he was only 5’8” and may not have been a giant, he was still my hero and when he chose to, he could wipe away my tears and make the world a brighter place. Over the last few years I wished I could do the same for him.

Now that he has passed I know he is free of pain. The limitations that his body held him to are gone and he is in a better place.
His only reason for being sad now, is because we are.
He knows he will see us all again one day!

So to my Dad – Pa - I say we love you and we will continue to hold you in our hearts. We will try our best not to best not to be sad but instead be happy and pray that the road rise up to meet you. That the sun shine warm upon your face and the rains fall soft upon your fields. And until we meet again, that God hold you in the hollow of his hand.
Slainte.

Burns Night

Well Robert Burn's Night is coming up at the end of January - in honour of that day here is a little something I put together several years ago for an event I organized. It was great fun, and took place for several years in a row. I had the pleasure of giving this toast again last year - the laughter in the room was energizing! I had great fun and I think everyone else did too . . . Enjoy!!

Oh and for those that don't know - Robert Burn's is Scotlands national poet - he was born January 25, 1759 and died July 21, 1796. He was quite the character to say the least. Every year since his death on the anniversary of his birth people the world over still celebrate him with a very fun and entertaining evening of scotch drinking, eating and toasting.

***

A Toast to the Lassies - the Reply
(to the Toast to the Lassies)

When Chris asked me - a few days ago only - if I would be prepared to, give the reply to the toast to the lassies tonight, it wasn't so much the lack of time left to me to prepare my reply, but the fact that the reply, while illustrating the vices and lack of morality of the members of the `unfairer' sex, is to end on a complementary note?!!

Robert Burns represented the aspirations of the "common man". He put into song many of our better ideas and ideals and verbalized our higher instincts. He also had a hawkish sense of bawdy humour, and in that vein then, let me make a sincere effort to begin this reply on a complementary note - by beginning with a look at the "size" of Scottish manhood. (Raise hand to indicate "height")

Some years ago, whilst still living in Scotland, a television commercial for "Scots Porridge Oats" showed two tall, strapping men in kilts and string vests tossing the caber and strutting their stuff, after having consumed a hearty breakfast of hot porridge. The commercial however had to be filmed using English actors as no Scottish actors of the right build (i.e., tall and strapping) could be found to play the parts. A 5'2" Glaswegian man to whom I repeated the T.V. commercial story, theorized that all la creme-de-la-creme of Scottish manhood had been used as cannon fodder by the English in two world wars... leaving the runts at home to breed.

And what about the Scotsman's sense of style and dress? There is a theory that our ancestral Pict men painted themselves indigo so their wives could not see what they were up to in the heather with the woman next door. Nowadays though, Scotland is possessed of a tartan obsession. According to one historian, prior to Robert Burns the average clan gathering looked like a parade of tattie bags. A chief purpose of the original tartans was camouflage. Dressed in modern tartans the only way you men could hide would be to fight your battles on a ludo board.

Do we agree ladies with the statement that the kilt is an aphrodisiac? I once heard someone say that your man could hawk himself about in tight jeans or Italian suits and there's nothing doing. But should he (and I quote) "hap his hurdies with the passion pleats" it doesn't seem to matter what kind of women they are - rich, poor, old, young, black, white, yellow - they just melt, go shoogly in the legs, and submit. A social anthropologist who was asked why the kilt should be the world's greatest knee-trembler, just laughed and said "Accessibility old chap, that's what fascinates them, accessibility". Ladies take care - I am not speaking from experience here when I suggest, though, the answer to what a Scotsman wears under his kilt.... is best left to the imagination.

However, Scots men have acquired a few social graces over the past hundred years - they don't belch in the faces of women they are married to, and some of them (so I'm told) even take their socks off before having sex. Nowadays, alibis for bad behaviour based on a deprived Scottish childhood are so commonplace that they're ignored unless you can prove that you were breastfed by your father.

Robert Burns did not tolerate fools easily. In his epigram addressed to a gentleman at table who kept boasting of the company he kept, he wrote:

"What of lords with whom you've supped, And of dukes that you dined with yestreen! A louse, sir, is still but a louse Though it crawl on the locks of a queen"

Robert Burns - who died at age 37 - united music, realism, comedy and humanity in a manner seldom seen. He was a true champion of the common man. But would he still have been today, when the "common man" is as common as Rab C. Nesbitt? What he would have made of contemporary Glasgow - where one definition of an atheist is: "A bloke who goes to a Rangers-Celtic match to watch the football". What would he have thought had he overheard this remark in a local tavern: Q. "What shall we drink to ?" A. "What about to 3 in the morning?"

Still, ladies - and you should know this - according to the result of a British Gas Energy Centre's ''HouseHusbands Day'' quiz - which was a light hearted quiz designed to test men's knowledge of traditionally female tasks - Scottish men outperformed their English and Welsh counterparts when it came to their knowledge of household chores. (I stress the word knowledge - knowing how to do something, and actually doing it are very different things!)

More than 2,000 men all over the UK took part in the quiz. They were asked revealing questions about jobs such as ironing, baking cakes and the best way to remove a red wine stain. Thirty-five percent of Scots answered all of the questions correctly - far more than any other region - proving they really are modern men of the 90's. 99.7% of them claimed they were capable of baking a sponge cake! They were only beaten - percentage wise - on the best way to remove red wine stains - but who bothers to remove alcohol stains in Scotland?

Ladies - I received a chain letter recently - It read "This letter was started by a woman like yourself in the hope of bringing relief to other tired and discontented women. Just bundle up your husband or boyfriend and send him to the woman whose name appears at the top of the list. Then add your name to the bottom of the list and send a copy of this letter to five of your friends who are equally tired and discontented. When your name comes to the top of the list, you will receive 3,125 men -- and some of them are bound to be better than the one you gave up...."

There are three rings in marriage. The engagement ring, wedding ring, and suffering. Of wedding rings, Burns wrote:

"She asked why wedding rings are made of gold;
I ventured this to instruct her;
Why, madam, love and lightning are the same,
On earth they glance, from Heaven they came.
Love is the soul's electric flame,
And gold its best conductor."

You men may not be great believers in the institution of marriage, but let me remind you of something. There is only one thing worse than being a batchelor - and that is being a batchelor's son!

Robbie Burns was a great believer in the rights of women and held us, rightly so, socially and intellectually as equals. From our present day point of view - but not his - he abused women when he fell in love with them - but a point in his favour, he never deserted any of his misbegotten weans! I ask myself what has really changed in men's behaviour toward the fairer sex from Robert Burns' time to ours? Not a lot... But, despite all their vices - their immorality - and all the troubles they may heap upon us, we continue to love them - those men. We love them for all the little things a man can be loved for (and let's face it girls, some of us can love very little things). Two rugby world cups ago in Italy at the Scotland-Brazil match, as the camera panned into the crowd it picked out a bunch of tartan-clad Scotsmen holding a banner which read "Elvis is alive and living in Partick". You can't help but love them.

So lassies - for those of you who are still looking for Mr. Right - girls, the message is clear - head NORTH of the border.

Gone but not Forgotten

Sunlight shines warm
through the crisp autumn air.
Memories run like a picture reel
as calmly out the window I stare.

What does the day bring?
What about the year?
Nuance nurtures wholly
without ever having to shed a tear.

Kiss the golden memories,
warmly cozied in my heart.
Sweet, swift & solemn -
life's new adventure starts.
***


*Updated September 19, 2013 - the 2 year anniversary*

Of Gods & Dogs

-Untitled-

Born of hope
alive with war
love & death--
like fates before

Burn my heart
take my soul
quench my thirst
and give me more

Blood of life
I am the spark--
Flame ignited
close the door

Behold my love
my greatest gift--
It brightens darkness
It heaves and pours

Nothing to something
Don't leave me waiting

Wanting

Sore
~

- The Divine -

Behind your mask
there's a face I know
A place, a time
so let us go.

Don't delay
the time is near
Remember once
you needed me here

I held your heart
as you held mine
Together we created
the divine

Force of nature
earth and flood
Let us reign together--
It's in our blood.
~

-Untitled-

Fickle fiends
They scorn the earth--
Its only hope is
of our birth

If I must
I will alone
And for you my love
I will atone

Peace of nature
soft and kind
Will only come
through war of mind

Sublime this course
of which we row
For it will come with force
from what we sow

Danu

Nature’s Fairytale

***A Children’s Storybook/Picture book***

                                                                                                         

The world is changing.  It’s growing and flowing and people are moving to live in places they never have before.  People move so quickly that it seems they have no time to see the beauty that is nature.

Instead people today seem to want to tear down nature. They cut down trees and pave over meadows that used to be full of flowers. 

Forests are much smaller than they used to be.  A world of beauty and wonder is disappearing – but you can help me protect it! My name is Fae and I need your help to save the land where my family and I live.

Long ago the world was covered in green. There were no houses (at least, not any houses that look like the one you live in) no skyscrapers and no cars.

There were forests and jungles; Flowers, animals and sparkling waters as far as the eyes could see.  My family called this place Danu, and it was beautiful.

Danu still exists but sadly many people do not believe in it anymore.  People have forgotten what it means to care for nature.  They cannot see the beauty that is so close to them.  They cannot even see me anymore – they don’t even try.

When you are walking in the forest or playing in a stream you are in Danu.  The next time you go for a hike remember that if you are very quiet and kind to nature and to everything that lives in it – and if you believe – maybe, just maybe you will see me or one of my friends.

You will know that we are nearby when you see the bright coloured flowers and lush green plants and trees that bloom and grow in the spring and summer.

In the fall we are in the changing colours of the leaves.

In winter we take shelter in the hollows of trees and dance when the snow flutters and falls on the breeze.

You can help me save the land of Danu by caring for nature.  When you are at home you can recycle or grow a garden.  If you plant Roses or sunflowers I may come to visit. 

When you go for a walk in the forest, play at the park or go camping make sure you don’t leave any garbage behind.  It could hurt the animals or plants that call that place home.

The most important way to help would be to tell your friends and family to help protect and care for nature too.  Together you can recycle, create a garden at home or school and make sure that the forests, jungles, deserts, tundra and swamps of the world are safe for the future.

You can also speak or think this simple wish the next time you are outside. 

Friend of Fae I am, I may,

Save Danu for me and you.

Your words will carry in the air on the wings of butterflies and I will hear you and know you are a friend of nature, a friend of Danu – a friend of mine.

The more people who do these things will mean my home of Danu is healthy and strong.  I will continue to have a place to call home and you will forever have beautiful places to visit and care for.

Why just visit though, when after all, Danu is your home too.

~End~

Sophia Takes the Cake

~I've been working on this for a little while now . . . even sent it off to Sophia's great-great-grandaughter (Camilla, Duchess of Cornwall). She liked and sent me a little letter to let me know :) . . . maybe one day I'll get to do more than just post it to facebook and my Blog!!~

Sophia sat looking out her bedroom window. The world outside was white with snow and she wanted to go out and play in it with her sister Minnie and their dogs, Fin and Finette.
Sophia ran to her Papa, who was sitting in his study reading.
"Papa please may Minnie and I go outside to play?" She pleaded. Her Papa looked up from his book and replied, "Sophia, it is much too cold outside for you to go out and play. A snow storm is on its way and it will be supper soon." Sophia sighed as she folded her arms across her chest.
"Maybe tomorrow will be better" Papa said as he got up from his chair and walked over to his young daughter, "for now why don’t you go back to your room and play with your sister. Later tonight I will read you a story before bed." Sophia’s Papa gave her hug and a kiss on the forehead and sent her back upstairs.
Halfway up the staircase Sophia stopped and wondered what fun she could have inside. She didn’t really want to play a boring game with her sister. Maybe the servants in the house had something more fun for her and Minnie to do. Sophia ran up the stairs back to her room where her sister sat playing with a doll.
"Come Minnie, let’s go see what Cook is doing downstairs." Sophia said excitedly.
"But Sophia, we are not supposed to go downstairs. If Papa finds out he will be mad, and Cook doesn’t like us in her kitchen." Minnie was hardly able to finish her sentence when Sophia took her hand and led her to the opening of their bedroom door.
"Well then Minnie, I guess we will have to make it our secret mission to get downstairs without Papa or Cook knowing." She grinned as she led her sister quietly down the servants’ staircase.
Sophia had forgotten that to get to the basement she and Minnie would have to get passed their Aunts room. The girls Aunt was very strict and would be very cross if she caught her nieces playing around the servants stairs to the basement and even more cross if she found out they had gone down them.
The servants were always busy working. Going up and down the stairs with hot water, trays of food and dishes. If Sophia and Minnie were to get in the way of one of the busy servants they could be hurt accidentally, or accidentally cause one of the servants to be hurt.
Sophia turned to her sister as they came closer to their Aunts sitting room door and slowly raised a finger to her mouth, "Shhhh" she whispered to her sister. Minnie pretended to place a button over her mouth and the two tiptoed passed the door. Inside the room Sophia and Minnie could hear their Aunt singing Christmas carols softly. A floor board creaked as they made their way around the corner passed their Aunt’s door and the singing from inside the room stopped. Sophia and Minnie pressed their backs against the wall around the corner from their Aunt’s Room, just as their Aunt opened the door.
"Hmmm" said their Aunt as she looked around suspiciously and then stepped back into her room closing the door behind her.
Sophia and Minnie breathed a sigh of relief and continued to make their way to the top of the basement stairs. Sophia peeked over the railing and Minnie peaked through them as they tried to see or hear any of the servants.
Besides the Cook there were three other servants who worked in the house; the butler, a footman and a maid. The Butler Sophia thought, must be in his room, the footman was probably in the stables tending to the horses and Bridget the maid was likely nearby in the basement helping cook prepare supper. Christmas time was fast approaching and guests would be arriving to stay at the house for the holidays soon. Cook was very busy preparing whatever she could for the upcoming holiday parties.
As Sophia and Minnie began to take their first few steps down the basement stairs they could hear the sound of pots and pans clattering and then the sweet and savoury smells of the kitchen began to fill their noses. The two girls smiled at each other and in unison quietly said "Mmmm."
Once they reached the bottom of the basement stairs the girls quickly and quietly peeked into the kitchen. They could see that Cook and the maid Bridget were busy tending the kitchen fires and gathering water from the pump. Their backs were turned to Sophia and Minnie and the sounds of the pump, the crackling fires and the clanging pots and pans made it so that the girls were free to make a little bit of noise as they moved down the hallway to the dairy. The dairy is where cook would be storing the sweets and desserts for supper that night, as well as anything she could store ahead of time for Christmas.
Sophia opened the door to the dairy and she and Minnie stepped inside. The sight before them was one of magic! The sweet smell of sugar and cinnamon filled the air.
There were cookies, tarts, meringues, chocolates and right in the very middle of it all the most wonderful Christmas cake covered in marzipan icing. The cake must have stood three feet tall and had four very thick layers. It was decorated with holly and ivy made out of icing and at the very top was a sparkling star. Sophia and Minnie stood in wonder, mouths open and eyes wide. If only they could have just a small taste . . .
Sophia began to make her way closer to the cake and as she did she heard Bridget ask Cook loudly if she wanted three or four more pounds of butter. There wasn’t much time, so Sophia and Minnie quickly hid inside a cupboard out of sight. Bridget entered the room wondering why the door to the dairy was open. She shrugged her shoulders and continued on her quest for Cook’s butter.
Inside the cupboard Sophia and Minnie sat perfectly still until Minnie saw movement on a shelf behind Sophia’s head. Minnie was just about to scream when Sophia reached out her hand and covered her sister’s mouth. Sophia slowly turned her head just in time to see a little mouse scurry behind some butter moulds and jars in the cupboard. She took a deep breath and closed her mouth and eyes tight in hopes that Bridget would leave soon and she wouldn’t end up with a mouse in her hair!
Bridget finished measuring out the butter for Cook and when she left the dairy she made sure she closed the door tightly behind her. She didn’t want Cook to be mad at her for letting any warm air into the dairy that might spoil anything.
Sophia and Minnie quickly but quietly emerged from the cupboard hiding place with their eyes again staring at the beautiful cake. A butter knife lay on the counter and Sophia quickly picked it up.
"Oh no Sophia you mustn’t do that!" cried Minnie. "If we are caught we will be in such trouble, and it is so close to Christmas!"
"Minnie, don’t be so worried!" Sophia replied. "The cake is so big, no one will notice just a little piece . . . or two missing."
Sophia cut down into the cake taking a slice for her, a slice for Minnie and one for each of their dogs Fin and Finette. Placing the slices inside a cloth from the counter Sophia secured her prize and reached for her sister’s hand.
The door to the dairy was stuck and Sophia would need all her strength to open the door. She handed the cake over to Minnie and she pulled on the door with all her might. The door gave way and popped open throwing Sophia and Minnie to the floor behind them. The two girls did not make a sound and waited to hear if the sound of footsteps from the kitchen were on the way.
Everything sounded quiet, so they checked their cake and it too had survived the fall. Standing up and brushing themselves off, Minnie and Sophia made their way out into the hall and back to the basement stairs, making sure to close the Dairy room door tightly behind them when they left.
As they passed the kitchen they saw that Bridget and Cook were still very busy, so they continued on toward the stairs. Just as they were about to head back up the stairs they heard the floor creak at the top. At the same time behind them in the kitchen they heard Cook ask Bridget to go again and bring even more butter from the dairy.
What would they do - Sophia and Minnie felt trapped with no place to hide! The only place for them to go was inside the cupboard for the dumb waiter. The dumb waiter was a sort of elevator that was used to bring food from the kitchen in the basement to the dining room on the main floor. When Cook had food ready in the dumb waiter, she would ring a bell and the Butler would come in and pull on a rope bringing the dumb waiter up to his pantry. After the food had been eaten the leftovers and the dirty dishes were sent back down on the dumb waiter to the basement to be stored and cleaned.
Sophia and Minnie quickly stepped inside the cupboard of the dumb waiter and closed the doors behind them. As they shuffled to find a place to sit down on one of the shelves inside, they noticed a few covered trays next to them. Sophia felt the covers and they were warm.
"Oh no" she whispered to Minnie. Just then the bell rang in the Butler’s pantry and they heard the Butler walk into the room above them.
Sophia and Minnie stared at each other in fear, if they were caught they would be in a lot of trouble. The Butler would surely tell their Aunt and Papa if he found them in the dumb waiter. That would certainly put them on St. Nicholas’ naughty list. Sophia closed her eyes and imagined only getting coal in her stocking for Christmas!
Slowly the dumb waiter began to make its way up from the basement to the main floor just inside the butler’s pantry. Sophia held tight to her sister’s hand as they waited for the pantry doors to open and for their fate to be sealed. "This is it" Sophia thought as she braced herself for the worst!
Then it happened. A scream came up from the basement that was so loud and piercing that it stopped everyone in their tracks. The butler left his post by the dumb waiter doors and hurried down the basement stairs. Sophia and Minnie also heard their Aunts door open and then footsteps racing across the floor from their Papa’s study.
Soon all the grown-ups were downstairs tending to Bridget, who had found when she returned to the dairy for more butter, a mouse eating away at some of the desserts.
Sophia and Minnie were in luck as they found themselves in the dumb waiter on the main floor, away from all the grown-ups in the house and still in possession of their prized cake. The girls quickly flung open the doors of the dumb waiter and stepped out into the pantry on the main floor of the house. In a hurry they closed the doors behind them and ran up the stairs back to their bedroom. Once inside the girls laughed and jumped under the covers of Sophia’s bed.
Fin and Finette, had been curled up by the fire in the room, but as the girls made their speedy entrance the two dogs made their way to the bed to join them.
Sophia took her package of cake and neatly unwrapped it for Minnie, Fin, Finette and herself to enjoy. The cake melted in their mouths as they ate it, it was so sweet and full of fruits and spices and the icing was so sweet and creamy. In a matter of minutes the cake was gone and Sophia and Minnie lay back in the bed with full and satisfied bellies.
The two sisters grew tired as they lay there thinking of their adventure. All the thoughts that Sophia had earlier of playing outside in the snow had left her and she and Minnie drifted off to sleep.
Downstairs Papa wondered if the commotion in the basement had frightened his two girls, so he made his way up to check on them. He opened the door and saw them sleeping peacefully together in Sophia’s bed. How sweet he thought as he went to tuck them into the bed. As he drew closer he saw the cloth that Sophia had used to carry up the cake. Crumbs were scattered on the bed and icing could still be seen in the corners of their mouths.
"A mouse indeed" he said smiling to himself. He leaned in and tucked his two little princesses into bed for the night then stood back and thought that tomorrow, to keep them out of trouble they would certainly all go out to play in the snow!