GLUM

The heat wave continued to ravage the Glum City. The ravens panted between their angry caws of irritation at the atmosphere. The blood red roses wilted and dropped their petals as if weeping for respite. The beings of glum were sticky with sweat and terse and grumpy with one another; no amount of fluid could slake their thirsts or cool their hides and they lolled about shriveled, disheveled and dehydrated. The beasts and critters of Glum crept away to sleep in the drowsy heat; small unenthusiastic scuffles broke out over the few remaining glimpses of shade, though they offered little respite from the inescapable humidity that stalked every living thing.
Just when the inhabitants of Glum seemed to have resigned themselves to the merciless heat, a dark quilt of rain clouds rolled across the sky and the damp smell of impending rain hinted in the air and the people of Glum felt something as close as they ever might to joy…..

Mr Black Bird V's Miss Jeannie Kitty Princess

There is an on going turf war in our courtyard between Miss Jeannie Kitty Princess and Mr Black bird and family. Mostly this rears its ugly head in the season of Birdie Amore when Black Bird and co move back into our tiny courtyard to nest. Miss Jeannie who is generally a house cat, but does occasionally peruse the courtyard is suddenly enemy number 1 and Mr Black bird starts in on her morning noon and night ; he will even go as far as to screech at her from the other side of the glass sliding door.
This year has been just as insane as the previous, which surprised me as I could have sworn there weren’t any nests in our garden. I was thinking it was a bit rich attaching Kitty when you weren’t even residing at her address. That was until I did a little watering (actually it was more like mouth to mouth resuscitation in our 37C heat). Low and behold the Black Bird family has left me agog at their latest feat of architectural ingenuity- this year they have built a summer house in a small pot that I covered with aluminum flashing and screwed to the fence. They merely pushed the geranium already occupying the pot to one side and got busy with some garden mulch and mud. Frankly the nest is almost wider than the circumference of the pot, so it must have been a full house.
I have to say I love it (nests are fascinating) and now that they have abandoned it – rebuilding in the honey suckle I think for their second sitting (Black birds don’t reuse their nests) I think I will put a dolly in it.

Nest Envy 

a full house 

Ingenious Nesting realestate 

A New Year at the grotto.

It was the party to end all parties and the ghoulie grotto was alive with fun and mischief. Devilish dollies cavorted in the garden, picking weedy posies and filling their chubby plastic fists with mud to fling at one another.
Smudgy footprints besmirched the floors as a multitude of dirty little dolly feet tracked throughout the rooms; stopping here and there to investigate or greet a ghoulie friend.
The kitchen proved the place to be (as it does at so many parties) and there was much tug of war over knives and other sharp instruments. A gang of naughty little fiends trapped a plush animal in the electric fry pan while another group experimented with the coffee grinder and various plastic appendages.
Then their was the party fare, for what would a party be without food? Ghoulies love sugar, though it has rather adverse effects on their already rambunctious habits. The banquet table was a riot, littered with crumbs and plundered goodies; biscuits with all the jam licked off, cupcakes minus the cream and housing small sleeping dollies within their soft spongy interiors. The gingerbread house was demolished when a struggle over ownership ensued. Chocolate wrappers were everywhere and at one point some ghoulies commandeered a rice cooker to make a melted chocolate spa bath- like a kind of ghoulie fondue.
Nylon Hair was singed by party poppers and toothpicks and sizzle sticks were jammed in plastic ears and nostrils. Dollies swung from chandeliers and sailed helter-skelter down the stair case. Ghoulies were stuck in the CD player and tug of war was played with make-shift rope procured from video cassettes. Patty pan ships were sailed in the bath tub and many a cute faux fur animal was dunked in the sink.
Indeed it was a fine New Years Eve party culminating in the riding of fire works sky rockets across the back yard.

Happy New Year from the ghoulie grotto- where we are still rounding up the dollies and restoring order to the work room.