Hot pen - A Snowy story...

(This one took longer than the requisite 3 minutes - I got rather carried away!)

Mark looked up and saw a white silhouette against the snowy background....

"Maria" – he whispered – "I’ve seen a white silhouette in the snow – what could it be?"

“Don’t be silly darling,” giggled Maria – “that can’t be a white silhouette – it would never show up against the snow – I told you not to drink shots with the locals – they have a lot stronger stomach for that kind of thing than you have.”

Mark sighed. He had tried very hard to educate Maria about snow. It wasn’t her fault but she still managed to see snow in the way that every other non-snowspert on the planet saw snow.

White. Lily-white. Dulux White and whitest white – until it turned to slush that is, when it became a kind of brown, but most people didn’t even think that far.

 He was tempted to refer her to Dr Eismann’s Directory of Snow-Shades, which she swore she had been swotting up on in preparation for their Antarctic expedition, but there wasn’t time. The white – and it was white – silhouette against the darker shades of the snow had not moved and he was still no closer to finding out what it was.

Leaving Maria giggling happily to herself (she was still hallucinating from the effects of the Antarctic ‘Brandy’ – and he knew that because he had stayed home reading all night, while it was she who had been out on the ice floe swigging back the local brew until the early hours), he crept closer.

Suddenly the sun dipped behind a cloud making it easier for him to see – and what he saw had him gasping in amazement and reaching for his camera.

Surely this was an Ice-angel penguin- the only known species of completely white penguin with feathers instead of fur. They were six foot tall and the only part of them that was a different colour was their startlingly blue eyes – which you almost never got a sight of as they were buried deep within the feathers.

In mating rituals of course, the feathers would open up to reveal their best and most colourful attribute to the opposite sex, but as there was only one of them, there was no chance of a mating ritual today.

Mark tried as far as possible to muffle the crunch of his footsteps over the fresh snow but along with very good eyesight (which it had to have to see clearly through its feathers) the Ice-angel penguin also had excellent hearing. It turned its head and looked in his direction.

Mark groaned – this was a chance in a lifetime to get a picture and here he was scaring it off. But no – the penguin looked straight at him and an amazing thing happened. Its feathers parted and the most amazing blue eyes he had ever seen, looked piercingly at him.

He fumbled with the camera and finally captured within the lens one of the world’s rarest sights. He chuckled to himself thinking of what his fellow Penguinologists would say when he showed them.   Then his brain started working again – there had been a temporary hiatus due to the cold – and he realised what this meant. The Penguin was starting a mating ritual – and he was its object.

Very slowly he started inching backwards towards his tent. From what he remembered of the ritual the first 10 minutes were mutual staring – and presumably - adoration. After that it was full on penguin mating with liberal use of beak and claw and he didn’t want to be there for that.

There was nothing for it.  He reached the relative safety of his tent, still holding the creature’s gaze. He grabbed the giggling Maria with one hand, his camera tight in the other. It was time to RUN!

Hot pen - Dougal's Itch!

Thanks to Maria for this next hot pen - I just love finding out what each one turns into - it's never what I expect! ;)

 

Dougal had a itch that just had to be scratched...

And lo! He’d scratched it. But then he discovered it had run off to a new place – so he hunted it down and scratched it there too. He thought he’d got it then but no, it moved off again to a new and rather inaccessible spot. There was nothing for it but to lift up his leg, twist his back, stretch his other leg round that bit further and....

“Well DONE!” said his Yoga Teacher.  “NOW you are master of the art of Zen Yoga. This position that you have finally mastered is called ‘Scratching the untraceable itch.’” 

Dougal panted and gasped with the exertion of holding the pose while his Yoga Teacher hummed, tutted and moved round him taking photos from every angle, measuring with his Zen ruler and scribbling in his notebook.

It seemed to take years but finally the teacher had finished and Dougal was told he could relax his pose and return to the central Yogic pose of “waiting for a bone.” This pose required him to stand on all fours, with his neck extended forward and his head tilted to one side, his tail pointing skywards. This was a much more comfortable pose and he couldn’t wait to get to it. The only trouble was, he’d twisted himself round and round like a corkscrew and he wasn’t sure he could untwist himself again.

He experimentally lifted a paw but it slid off in another direction than he expected. He was balanced precariously now and he could see disaster looming. He could see it in the Yoga Master’s face. He had a resigned air, as if to say, “It’s a miracle you got into that pose - I can’t see how you’re going to get out of it again.”

Without more ado he topped to the floor in a tangle of limbs.  He looked up in despair – what would his teacher say now?

 “VERY good,” cried the Yoga Master, greatly impressed. “Now you have mastered 'pose of the splatted squirrel'. Just relax and hold still while I take some notes.”

Dougal groaned and closed his eyes. To think that this had all started with an itch!

 

Bear Haiku

Some Bear Haiku - Haiku, for those not in the know, is a 3 line poem, first line is 5 syllables long, second line is 7 syllables and last line is 5 syllables.

See below for examples:

First poem (should be read in Japanese accent for best effect):

Japanese bear pome*
five syllable and seven
always about bears.

* (sorry had to 'cheat' but actually this is an authentic word in 'Bearspeak' meaning 'poem')

Long years of wisdom
belied by his furry face
hidden in his eyes.

Look at your teddy
Is he just a lifeless toy?
Or something much more...

Astonished round eyes
Reflect the light and shadow
In their button depths.

One ear flops forward
The other ear flops backwards
Can't help but love him!

Mysterious bear
So much hides in that stuffed head
Deep, timeless, knowledge.

A full tummied bear
Soporific, yawns and sighs
Time for a bear nap.

and on that note - I think.... bear bedtime! ;)

Hot-pen - Mouse and Bear story

Abracadabra! shouted the mouse. You once were a bear and now your a...

“CAT!” ........  “Oooooops!” The mouse gulped, his ears twitching madly. The question was – would the bear remember what a NICE mouse he was, how he had shown him the best places to find honey. Would he remember their games together and how Mouse ALWAYS let him win at chess? Or would his new ‘cat’ senses take over, would he suddenly find his old friend looked as tasty as a pot of honey always used to?

Mouse’s mind raced wildly. Mouse magic only lasted for half an hour – that was something, but half an hour was more than enough time to eat him. What could he do? There was only one thing for it. He looked up at his Bear-Cat friend and shouted loudly: “HELP! Next-doors dog is after us – RUN FOR THE MOUSEHOLE!” Bear-Cat’s eyes widened and he looked around him for the dog.

“No time to waste LOOKING!” shouted Mouse, as loudly as he could – “RUN!”

 Mouse and Bear-Cat ran for the mousehole. Bear, in the good old days was just of a size to fit in the door, now however he was a cat and cats do not fit in mouseholes. But he was running far too fast to stop.

SMACK! He hit his head on the wall above the mousehole and sunk to the floor.  Mouse cringed. He looked over at his friend who, it was plain would be ‘sleeping’ for  awhile.

“Sorry old chap,” he whispered  – “I couldn’t take the risk – you’d have felt terrible if you’d turned back into yourself and remembered that you’d had me for dinner.”

Then he went off and burnt his wand and all his magic books – there were some things that a mouse should leave well alone!

Hot -pen exercise No 1 - Gooey bear

Maria has kindly provided some sentences for some hot pen entertainment and playtime... so here is the first:

Gooey Bear, dipped his paw into the cake mixture while his mums back was turned. mmmm forbidden chocolate goo....

It always seemed to turn his hair bright pink but he couldn’t care about that right then. He dipped one paw in, then another. He slurped and slicked and slooped, til all the mixture was gone and he was a brown sticky mess.

Suddenly, panic overcame him. What would Mummy think when she returned? He had to cover his tracks. First he must get clean – he waddled over to the sink and heaved himself up onto the draining board; luckily the sink was full of soapy water. He closed his eyes and dived in.  A minute later a new squeaky-clean and goo-less version of himself was climbing back down and rushing over to the mixing bowl. All the goo was gone – a dead giveaway, BUT he had an idea. Emptying several tins of custard into the bowl he dyed it all brown with some Marmite and placed the spoon back in. No-one would ever know. He sat back in his chair and fixed an innocent expression onto his face.

GOOEY BEAR! hollered Mummy from the kitchen door – you NAUGHTY BOY! You’ve eaten all my cake mixture! Gooey bear’s face fell a mile. He shook his pink spiky head sadly... what was it about mothers – how did they always find you out?!