[Griffin]

Part two.

It took some time to clear the shed but between the three of them, they moved boxes and fabric carefully until they had a small cave inside the shed with light coming in through the open window and something like a small dais on which the curled up cat watched them. They decided that he would be their mascot.

The cat was much amused by this but said nothing. Sam then took a pair of broom handles and decided that she was going to make a scarecrow for their father's vegetable patch. Instantly Tam and Jam wanted to join in, so she told them to find some things to make the scarecrow with. First she tied the two handles so that the scarecrow had two legs. Then Tam wrapped some cloth around the body and some old tatty sheeps wool went around the neck and shoulders. Some nylon chiffon was tied on, thanks to Jam and then they looked for a suitable head. They found a strange set of small cardboard packaging which was tied and glued together to make a sort of head.

"It looks like a piggy." said Jam.

It did too. Tam got some leather scraps for the ears and Sam added some of the tatty sheeps wool to give it some sort of wig. Then they put the head on and admired it.

"It should certainly scare the crows." Tam said.

"I'm scared of it." Jam said and hid behind Sam, clutching at her dress with sticky fingers.

"It's not that scary." Tam told him scornfully.

"Anyway Jam, you're not a crow so you don't have to be scared." Sam added, tousling her baby brother's hair.

They were about to put it up in Dad's vegetable patch, but their mother called from the kitchen and they left the shed in a rush saying a hurried goodbye to the cat. The cat was left all alone with the scarecrow and now he stood up smoothly and smiled to himself. He stared at the scarecrow as if studying it and if a cat could laugh, this one would have. He stretched his paws and yawned. Then he arched his back and little electric sparks dashed across his back.

He liked the children but he also thought it would be amusing to tease them a little. In a catlike, magical fashion perhaps. He got down from the little dais and slinked across to the scarecrow. Once more he arched his back and brushed against the scarecrow with his tail raised like a banner. The little sparks crackled along his fur, spiralled up his tail and as if with a life of their own gathered themselves at the tip of his tail before leaping on to the scarecrow and spiralling about it right up to the piggy like head.

The children did not go back to the shed for the rest of that day and forgot about the scarecrow by the time their father came home from work. They had helped their mother in the kitchen and made biscuits. Jam had gotten extra sticky and his mother had washed him in exasperation. Two minutes after she had washed, dried and re-dressed him, he was sticky again.

Sam and Tam had cleaned up the kitchen and taunted each other. Tongues were stuck out, fingers wiggled and imaginative insults hurled until they were both breathless with laughter. Mum made tea and they sat with her telling her stories, which she found quite amusing and said so. When dad came home they helped set the table and prepare for supper.

The lights from the kitchen lit up the garden and for a little while after the children had eaten they were allowed to watch the foxes in the garden before being sent to bed. The lights remained on downstairs and in her bedroom, Sam could not sleep. She sighed, shut her eyes and turned over in her bed, but still did not feel sleepy. Then her eyes opened when she heard a sharp crack. She was out of bed and at the window in a rush. At first, she could see nothing unusual. Across the back garden, the back of Miss Hexham's house was quiet. Only something flew out of Miss Hexham's window that looked like a very large black bird with two yellow moonish jewels on it's tail that she swore blinked at her solemnly.

Then she heard the cracking sound again but put it out of her mind, shook her head and went back to bed. It couldn't have been anything important she thought to herself. She went to bed and slept.

But in the garden, the foxes turned their heads quickly and darted away. The bats squeaked and flew up along with the sparrows who had all been asleep. With a softer cracking noise, the scarecrow came down the garden with an awkward shuffle. Amazingly it did not lose it's balance but about it's body little bluish electrical sparks fizzed. It went slowly and ungainly towards the house and peered in at the window.

It was a neat room with pictures on the wall that mum had painted in her student days. There was a blue and white gingham waxed table cloth on the table and the chairs neatly placed about it. The table cloth was a little sticky at one point but that was understandable with Jam in the house. The scarecrow stared in at the lit interior without understanding when suddenly it was caught as if by something creeping up on it. A muttered word from an old woman and the electrical sparks fizzed up to the ears and leapt between the scarecrow to the tip of the old woman's broomstick.

"Daft cat, teasing little ones like that!" Miss Hexham softly snapped and turned her broomstick away.

Outside the window, utterly still the scarecrow stood. Mum got quite a fright when she came to draw the curtains. She shrieked once and fainted. Sam awoke suddenly and dashed out of her room to save her mum. So it was that when dad came back in from the garden he found Sam, Tam and Raspberry Jam standing ruefully at the top of the stairs.

"Mum's alright," he told them with a smile, "Go on back to bed. It was just a scarecrow outside the window."

Sam was about to speak when Tam gripped her hand very hard and shoved his hand over Jam's mouth.

"Ok dad." he said and dragged his siblings back to Sam's room.

"Nobody says a word," he told them, "Nobody will believe it and we'll get into trouble."

So they made a pact and to this day they have no idea how the scarecrow came from the shed to the dining room window. Miss Hexham moved house to a small cottage in the Lake District - with no near neighbours for thirty miles. The scarecrow was taken apart by the children quietly the next day.
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Confusion comes fitted as standard.

[Griffin]

Oops! I play the little jokule and Madame replies instantly!! My misstook... or perhaps Miss Took... or even Ms Took!

Hmm, the masts... Well the last two have been really very long. I have more time at the moment, so this time briefly...


The wide sky filled with a grand drift of clouds their slow movement promising a breeze. The ships below rock gently cradled on a slightly rippling mass of water, clear and blue. Reflections of the sky drift on the waters and the ships are ready to go. But the men on their decks are at ease, taking things easy. Then a whisper of wind, a ruffling of hair, a stirring of the ropes and the masts lean towards each other murmurings in their lines of salt air and wide endless spaces. The men cry aloud to each other and move with excitement.

Women turn to each other catching the excitement of the wind and the waters and the tall masts around them like a forest about to move. They turn to the lines and release the sails that belly out and fill - a sudden pregnancy of expectations and desire. Moorings are slipped and languidly the ships slip away from the quays, slow at first, feeling their liberty - until sure of it they dart forwards into the open channels hearing the dizzying call of the greater liberty of the sea.

The sea and wind sprites are called up by the wise women on the prows, softly and politely invoked. The women lean over the prows, a single rope holding them to the ships, their hair streaming back, fluttering like the pennants and ensigns on the masts. Their arms cast outwards and wide in supplication, their soft words flung like gulls out into the bright clean sharp air. The sprites come then and tease their callers, cradling the ships before flinging them about a little to show their power.

"You do not treat us lightly," they seem to say.

The wise women speak with the sprites peaceably and politely. The men stand well back from the prow and do not speak. But this demonstration of the power of the wise women un-nerves them. They want their own power and do not understand the tricky relationship of the women and the sprites.

The time will come when they will no longer call the wise women onto their ships, they will trust in the power of their ships and engines and the women will be but figureheads - reminders of the invokers of sea and air. The sprites will no longer speak with us but disappear to their depths and heights of sea and sky. Every woman that grows wise will stand upon the shore and hear them singing and feel in her blood the link they once had with the sea and sky... and earth.
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Confusion comes fitted as standard.

[msue]

Two wonderful stories to read just before my head hits the pillow!

All I can say is thank you!

[Griffin]

Folks,

In order not to clog up the clearly inspiring Clotilde's wonderful site and because you suggested it - Madame and I are on the verge of creating our very own blog in order to continue this kind of thing.

As neither of us are of the calibre of the mighty (and beautiful) Clotilde computer-wise, it will be very simple. But we are thinking of a name for it, which is where you come in.... got any ideas?

Just think, one day Clotilde decides at last to start a blog and it takes off... and now several years on, thanks to your blog Clotilde... a new blog is about to be born! I don't know if this means that the C&Z blog is at present pregnant and about to come to term, but still! What inspiration... and all because of you... and possibly Maxence telling you to just go and do it!

So thank you Clotilde.
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Confusion comes fitted as standard.

[gingerpale]

Here's maybe a little guidance: http://weblogs.about.com/od/startingablog/bb/ChooseDomain.htm

How 'bout.... "A Picture's Worth"

[Lilia Dignan]

Chers Madame et Griffin,

Bonne idee! I will surely follow you and add another wonderful site to the few that I regularly follow. Now, I have to think of getting a notebook for chez moi so I can log on on weekends as well! Bonne chance!

-Lilia
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"A man hath no better thing under the sun than to eat, and to drink, and to be merry."

[madameshawshank]

Griffin suggested 'Snapper and the Griffin'...doth rather like that
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"I've never accepted the external appearance of things as the whole truth. The world is much more elaborate than the nerves of our eye can tell us." - James Gleeson

[Barbara]

Your own blog. What a great idea. I don't like to think of Madame as a snapper, cos I think fish when I hear that word. Perhaps sometimes you might allow a guest photographer when Madame fancies a break.

Griffin - Clotilde has inspired so many new blogs she has been in a permanent state of pregnacy.
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Barbara

[madameshawshank]

any old time Barbara!...

in fact Annie Leibovitz can offer up an image any time she likes!

'n Richard Avedon can post from the cosmos he's in now...

as can the beloved Neil Davis..

ah..the fish snapper. (perhaps 'fish and the quill?)..I was a thinkin' image snapper...

am sure a title will pop its head around the corner any tick of the clock...
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"I've never accepted the external appearance of things as the whole truth. The world is much more elaborate than the nerves of our eye can tell us." - James Gleeson

[Barbara]

Actually Madame I was thinking more the C&Z snappers....and ONLY when you want a break.
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Barbara

[madameshawshank]

'tis a deal sweetness...
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"I've never accepted the external appearance of things as the whole truth. The world is much more elaborate than the nerves of our eye can tell us." - James Gleeson

[Griffin]

Snapper and the Griffin it is... tho' Barbara, I too think of the fish when I hear Snapper! But I know Madame is no fish. I did wonder about Madame and the Griffin or even J and G's Wonder Emporium.

Yes, I wouldn't mind a few images from any other snappers (not fish) here. Actually, I did wonder about Clotilde putting an image or two up as some of hers are quite interesting...

I am going to set it up now... wish me luck!
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Confusion comes fitted as standard.

[Griffin]

'Tis done! I feel a sudden rush of nerves and what-ifs, but if it were done, 'twere well it were done quickly... and what's done is done and cannot be undone (unless I fully work out how!!)

The link is thusly: http://snapperandthegriffin.blogspot.com/ for the introduction. Now I await Madame's photo... er, one way or another!

Clotilde, thank you for your inspiration and for this site, with which we began... the Snapper and I.
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Confusion comes fitted as standard.

[kymee]

I am speechless me Girish, simply, breathlessly speechless. *drool*

[Griffin]

Kymsta,

I have that effect on a lot of people... the being speechless, not the drooling obviously!
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Confusion comes fitted as standard.