Breakfast with the Skulls…

I scurried up to the garden today,

Afraid I’d receive a surprise.

Don’t bother to follow me,

You’ll surely seal your demise.

For every skull that ever I’d drawn will gather there for purpose unknown,

Because today’s the day for pancakes and crumbs, it’s Breakfast with the Skulls.

 For entire lyrics, please click here.

~ To be sung to the tune of “The Teddy Bear’s Picnic”

It’s not as strange as it sounds, and it ended up to be far more genteel than I’d ever imagined.

The skulls of friends long past, the Guardians of the Garden, decided it was time for a meeting…with me. As soon as I received the invitation, the heart palpitations began. Yes, I had been hanging around Quentin’s estate for the last few months, but my manners are impeccable, aren’t they? I’d either been introduced or introduced myself  to everyone. I never drew portraits without asking permission, and so far, no one had turned me down. Was there rivalry among the skull ranks? Had I spent more time with one or the other? Did they dislike their likenesses? I had tried to explain that I’m not a fine artist. Was it the boxes I’d begun to paint? I got a notion in my head to paint their portraits on boxes. Do they disapprove? I should have asked. Why didn’t I ask?

I realize how this all sounds. None of them had actually given me any reason to think I’d offended or angered any one of them. That doesn’t stop me from making up reasons. Guilty conscience, I suppose.

Turns out they want to make me an honorary member of the Guardian Garden Skulls. At least I hope it’s only “honorary.” I am pleased, of course. I had no idea that they thought this highly of me and I’m touched.

My only concern now is the Swearing-In Ceremony. I have no problem swearing. I can do that from dawn to dusk and barely have to stop to take a breath. It’s the ceremony part that has me anxious. I just hope I get to keep my hair. None of them have any, you see. Hmm…perhaps I should be more concerned about keeping my skin? There really are drawbacks to being the lone human in household filled with immortal (and dangerous) creatures.

In preparation for Halloween and Dia de los Muertos, I’m actually painting skull boxes for breakfast and lunch (and sometimes dinner). The idea of being invited to Breakfast with the Skulls wouldn’t leave me in peace (so to speak) and I had to write it down. One of my Demon pals has been calling for me, too. What can I say? It’s Grand Central Weird around here.

Carrothes Krazerous

Carrothes Krazerous is a member of the “How does Your Garden Groan” Plantvampings Series. What’s the “How does Your Garden Groan” Plantvamping Series? I’m asking myself the same damn question. 

I’m certain it won’t surprise you to hear that Carrothes has a majorly bad attitude. This attitude stems from his complete annoyance over the bright and cheerful orange color of his flesh. I cannot say that I blame him. Wouldn’t you be annoyed if you were orange? Since I didn’t want to cause him to go on a tear (have you noticed those teeth?), I decided that it best to doodle his portrait in black and white. I’m lucky that he sat for me at all. Actually, I’m lucky to be alive.

Like his creator the Great Vampire Botanist Quentin (who has become considerably more pretentious since my last encounter with him), Carrothes doesn’t like humans, except at mealtimes. But they must always be dressed. When Mr. Krazerous decides to have you for supper, he expects you to be wearing lots of butter and brown, organic sugar. A touch of cinnamon is always welcome. Go figure. Apparently it makes us taste better.

Although he looks small in this portrait, please note that I failed to include anything in the drawing to indicate scale. I’m fairly certain Carrothes would not have let me leave his cellar if I had! Although he may not appear frightening, he’s actually six foot, ten inches tall. Think about that for a moment. Are you back? Now then, would you want to meet up with 6’10” angry, chip-on-his-symbolic-shoulder vampire carrot in an alley? Or anywhere else for that matter? And not only are his teeth sharp, so are his wits. Do make sure that you keep yours about you.

Daiseous Vampireous

We always think of plants as pretty, decorative, and often useful. Other adjectives might include tame. Safe. We forget about carnivorous plants. Sure, those are dangerous to ants and flies, but what danger could they be to us? None. Until an introverted botanist named Quentin became a vampire. Quentin never connected to his fellow humans, preferring to spend all his free time in a garden or hothouse.  As a child he was heartbroken that the plants didn’t win at the end of “The Day of Triffids.”  Nothing has changed since he’s become a vampire and now the only way he relates to humans is as a food source.

Since he doesn’t associate with vampires any more often than he did with humans, to combat his lonely existence Quentin decided to experiment with his beloved flowers and plants. Daiseous Vampireous is his first achievement.

“The Day of the Triffids” would have ended differently in Quentin’s world and he has made very certain that his Plantvampings will always have the last word.

Vegetarians and florists, you’ve been warned.

Although Daiseous’ teeth are tiny, you should never judge something’s danger based on size. One mere scrape of those tiny teeth and you may never wake again. And her defenses do not end there. When she’s at rest, two small dragon leaves uncoil and stand guard over her. At her base, Oveous with its big, yellow eyes keeps watch. It would be unwise to skip through a field of Daiseouses. Luckily, there is only one of her. For now.