Spring Once Again vs Horticulture

“In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt.”

~Margaret Atwood, “Bluebeard’s Egg”

If I weren’t a confirmed and *certified Brown Thumb, I might agree with the above quote. I don’t mind the smell of dirt (earth that is); however, it’s the planting of the seeds and then the maintaining of the little sproutlings that trips me up. I’m just no good at it. Since I have other skills (I make a mean lasagna), I do not let it get me down.

When it comes to flowers my preference are of the wild variety. Yeah, just let them sprout wherever they darn well please and grow at their own particular pace. Where do those wildflowers come from? I thought about it. And yes, I do realize there are science thingies called biology and horticulture. “Horticulture,” sounds a little snooty, doesn’t it? But that isn’t why it doesn’t interest me. No offense to any of you horticulturists out there (reading my blog?? Hah!), it just doesn’t interest me.  You may not have noticed, but I am much more fantasy, rather than science, orientated. So, I came up with my own version of what happens at spring.

You can find my tale on the Halloween Artist Bazaar site. Click on this link and it will take you straight to the short story “Spring Once Again.” Enjoy!

*Or was that certifiable? Ah well. Doesn’t really matter, does it?

Creepy Bunny Banner

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Halloween Artist Bazaar is hosting a fabulous giveaway for the spring. The winner will receive a package of indie artisan handcrafted collectibles worth over $200. You can sign up for FREE by clicking on the image below:

Halloween Artist Bazaar...we're not just for Halloween anymore (or ever)

Halloween Artist Bazaar…we’re not just for Halloween anymore (or ever)

Hearts and Flowers, Blah, Blah

Yeah. I actually wrote a Valentine tale. Weird. By my standards, of course. The tale includes Fiddler-the-Cat (created by Twilight Faerie) and Wilbur. Equipped with a sharp beak (which is uncomfortable when applied repeatedly to your head, especially the way he wields it), Wilbur began pestering me around November last year. Since that time, he’s taken a few different forms. This is what he looks like now:

Wilbur & Betty Bee

My original pen drawing of Wilbur and his latest squeeze, Betty Bee. Yeah. Betty Bee. Things were running slow in my brain that day and that’s the name I came up with.

You won’t find the Valentine tale here. I wrote it for the fabulous artist group I’m lucky enough to be a member of, Halloween Artist Bazaar. Click on this link or the image below and it will take you straight to the short story “A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Valentine Dance.”

Enjoy! And a Happy Valentine-Hearts-Flowers-and-Candy Day to you.

Halloween Artist Bazaar

Sleepy Blue Stars and Fiddler

Recently, I was asked to write a winter’s tale for the artist group of which I’m proud to be a member: Halloween Artist Bazaar. I decided to write a twist(ed) on ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas and titled my piece “‘Twas the Eve Before Fiddler-The-Cat.”

Fiddler is Halloween Artist Bazaar’s mascot and his image is our leader, Twilight Faerie’s creation. The perfect mascot for our group, Fiddler is dark and mysterious, playful, and oh-let’s-just-say-it: adorable. Fiddler came to life through Twilight’s fair hand, and as soon as she told me his name it seems that he has had much to impart. This tale may only be the beginning…

I enjoyed writing this short story so much that it inspired me to create the following piece “Three Sleepy Blue Stars.”

“Blue stars,” you ask?

Yep. Blue.

Three Sleepy Blue StarsIK

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Halloween Artist Bazaar is hosting another fabulous giveaway for the Winter Holidays. The winner will receive a package of independent artisan handcrafted ornaments, jewelry, and other holiday fare worth over $200. You can sign up for FREE by clicking on the image below:

WinterGiveAway

Best of luck to you and whatever holidays you celebrate may you thoroughly enjoy yourself!

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.