Second Re-post of: A Tiny Story from My Mantle ~ 2019 ‘edition’

A Tiny Story from My Mantle

Searching through my previous blog posts for a little story I found this tiny one. On days when my muse seems to have flown away, I look around me to find a story in my own home. In 2013, I must have been in that quite uncomfortable space when I saw the beautiful owl. Painted by my sister Kate, it seemed to be flying out of the dark forest just behind my little Christmas tree. Rather than forests, it put me in mind of a great white owl I saw on the prairies several winters ago. The story unfolded from there and granted me muse something to work with. Today, with a bit of editing, my muse has been satisfied.

A Tiny Story from My Mantle ~ 2019 ‘edition’

The big white owl flew silently from dry rustling grasslands barely covered with thin and worn blankets of snow all the way to the edge of a deep forest to the little evergreen tree decorated with lights and with toys. Snow-filled wild wind whistled and danced around hills and rocks, through trees stripped bare of summer leaves. The old owl was always certain that gifts would be under the little tree. Gifts for the old couple that lived over the hill and down the road just past an old town that twinkled with candle light in windows trimmed with snow and icicles.

There is no reality as bright and magical as a starry moonlit night over snow covered fields. The magic of these nights and the little tree that sparkled and shone at the edge of the forest drew field mice and rabbits to discover the little tree. No one ever knew who decorated the tree each year. No one knew who cleared the snow and placed the presents there. Children from the tiny town made forbidden forays to the edge of the Great Evergreen Forest each year just before Christmas when the moon rode high in the starry night sky. Elven shadows danced and elven music drifted in the cold night air. The children told each other marvellous stories of seeing elves and their nights in the snow. The grand snowy owl watched over the children on these nights filled with glitter and excitement. He spread his wings to his nest in grasslands only when the children were all back in their sturdy homes and tucked safely in their beds.

“That’s the thing about magic; you’ve got to know it’s still here, 

all around us, or it just stays invisible for you.”

~ Charles de Lint

Book Review: The Paper Bag Princess by Robert N. Munsch

In my wander and culling of photographs, this little book fell out from between two not so memorable photographs. I read it in a few minutes and decided that a Book Review was in order. We all have our dragons and this told me how to deal with them. (Christmas used to be kind of ferocious.)

Book Review:  The Paper Bag Princess

A whimsical and very wise story 

of a beautiful princess and 

a fiery dragon that snatched 

her handsome prince away.

When all the finery had been burned, 

a curious story of resilience and courage 

emerged so the princess 

could save her prince.

The end of the story, I’ll not tell. 

This tiny story tells 

that big or small, we can put

all our dragons to rest.

“‘Wait,’ shouted Elizabeth. ‘Is it true that you are 

the smartest and fiercest dragon in the whole world?’     

‘Yes said the dragon.’”

Robert N. Munsch, The Paper Bag Princess

Title: The Paper Bag Princess

Author: Robert N. Munsch

Copyright: 1980

Publisher: Annick Press with contributions from the Canada Council

Type: Children's Story

Format: Paperback

ISBN: 0-920236-25-1

Tiny Art From Victoria

Artist: Ruth Van Egmund

The Junction is a little shop. Outside, in business hours, you may see a refurbished wooden chair or possibly a small side table, an updated bookshelf, or a whimsical little piece of art. If you stop long enough to peer through the large windows, a store full of repainted furniture, lamps and lovely pieces of china. High up on the walls are large paintings ~ cityscapes and landscapes. Lightly scattered over dressers and tables are more of the whimsical small art pieces from found objects. While all of this is a wonder to me, I always navigate carefully to the back of the shop where, on a low shelf are wonderful tiny paintings by local artist and store owner, Ruth Van Egmund. Paintings of our natural world and the tiny things we don't always notice as we brush past them.

Artist: Ruth Van Egmund

Yesterday, when I had a few minutes to browse one of my favourite stores, I purchased two of her tiny paintings, about the size of a coaster. Displayed on my bathroom wall, their colours and ‘fishy’ content are a perfect match for my decor. 

When Christmas shopping, traffic and general busyness needs a bit of a pause visit The Junction at 1543 Fort St. here in Victoria, B.C. Or if not in Victoria, Ruth Van Egmund is on Facebook and Google for an internet browse of her extensive artworks.

“Art washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life”

~ Pablo Picasso

A Writerly Friday Afternoon ~ 2

Customary clothes and coins are two things we often think about before heading out to any group event. The weather is usually taken into consideration but the change we carry with us may or may not be. A small group of us gather on the first Friday of the month for our writer’s group. Customary clothing is always casual ~ jeans and casual tops. Coins ~ well there is an occasional phantom-like admonition to ‘put a quarter in the pot’ should we denigrate our own writing even before sharing it. No one has ever seen this ‘pot’ and no one has ever even reached for their wallet! (Julie, you’ll appreciate this little bit of fun.) Lots of smiles and chuckles though.

I’ve included in this post my offerings for and from writer’s group yesterday. First:  Our assignment was to write a Tiny Story. Tiny Story contests are held in many libraries. The main rules are: the story must have a beginning, middle and end; it must be 420 characters or less. Characters include: words, spaces and punctuation ~ a difficult task! Mine is titled Never Land (380 characters) The second exercise, arranged by the host, was a draw of a slip of paper already prepared by our host. Each slip had a well known name on it. I drew Donald Duck and was not impressed. Other names were just as intriguing ~ Paddington Bear and Mickey Mouse were just two I recall. The time: 10 minutes (I confess: I only was able to get my brain to write for 8 minutes)

Never Land (380 words not including the title)

My parents said ‘summer is forever’. They told fanciful stories of graceful trees and sparkling blue water. Stories of catching glittering fish. Breathing deeply of cool summer nights. A faded, cracking beachball and a scratched, faintly red plastic pail were special July childhood playthings. Sand castles blew away in hot, whistling winds. I grew up. Climate change had passed.

Donald Duck (no editing)

Donald Duck was my favourite cartoon character. He squawked and quack with spittle flying all over the place. His big gold duck feet slapped the ground. And I can’t think of what else to write except that that he just hasn’t inspired me. There’s no story there because Disney has them all. From the times when cartoons were hundreds of pencil sketches to digital cartoons today we still have those marvellous Looney Tune characters. I’m not sure I did have a favourite. Elmer Fudd and his ‘wascally wabbit’ with his shotgun. Bugs Bunny popping out - or into his rabbit hole munching on a carrot. Wylie E. Coyote being flattened by an anvil or a semi trailer truck. They were all fun in a most ‘graphic art’ sense of those words. “So there.”

(I dare you to say the last two words in a very Donald Duck sort of way - and don't forget the spittle.)

“You can make anything by writing.”

~ C.S.Lewis

As Though I'm Biased

Rylie Rose’Marie 

A tiny new face so full of expression

Wide open smiles, soft shy smiles or faintly furrowed brow

Open mouth looking as though stories and words will be pouring out

A tiny new body so full of energy

Soft pillowed feet kicking and pushing as though practicing to run and play

Wee hands reaching into the air as though expressions of all those stories and words that have yet to form.

Sleeping soundly, with fluttering almost asleep eyes or wide awake

This precious child ~ grown so quickly in her brief six weeks and five days ~ will grow in stature and personality ~ a joy to hold in my heart.

[Great]-“Grandmothers hold their grandchildren 

in a special place in their heart.”

~ Catherine Pulsifer

[Great] - added by this Great Grandmother Susan

On a Foggy Day

Tiny jewelled chandeliers

woven by master weavers

 ~ forever a curiosity.

“In nature, everything has a job. The job of fog 

is to beautify further the existing beauties!”

~ Mehmet Murat Ulsan, Turkish author, playwrite

Two for One - A Writerly Afternoon

My writer’s group met yesterday to read out our assigned topics for October and to participate in a writing exercise just before nibbles and coffee or tea. Our topic - write a tiny story following the guidelines from the Greater Victoria Public Library contest guidelines. As it turned out the attendance for the afternoon’s writer’s group was also tiny as three of our members had conflicting engagements. But we soldiered on anyway. 

One of our ‘away’ members emailed her story to us. By the way, a Tiny Story is to be 420 only - that includes letters, spaces and punctuation! It really works out to about 140 words. We each read out our Tiny Stories. Because the readings were short and sweet, we had lots of visiting time. Here is my contribution:

A Love Story

Richard struggled to push her wheelchair across bumpy grass. Astrid looked up at him with a love reserved for the movies. Their ages were as mismatched as the misshapen clothes on their backs. When his illness became terminal, shelters and workers were her life line to his hospital bed. His death was her great tragedy. A great love transcended the cold ground, wheelchairs, hospital beds and their longing for a home. 

*****

Then it was on to our writing exercise. Our host fanned out a selection of folded papers. We were to choose one and not to show it to anyone else. Each page contained a picture and a line beneath with questions to be answered. Our host had chosen them from the many online writing prompts. I was definitely curious about what and how I would be able to write anything for 10 minutes. I actually only managed nine minutes - and on my iPhone. My questions were:  'It's the morning of her first day of school. What's going on? What does it mean?'

Challenged

I’m not really scared. You’re awfully big and I know I should be but you look like you’re half asleep! How can I be scared when you’re not even awake? Would you like some breakfast? You would have to get up because you’re walking me to school. Did you forget? This is my first day at school and I want everyone to see that I am not afraid of you and that you are beautiful. I will introduce you to all my new friends and to my teacher so they all know that I have a wonderful strong and gentle friend that will be with me every day. Well, most days, unless you stay in bed and sleep. But you really need to wait to sleep until Saturday or Sunday when school is out. Then I’ll let you stay in bed.

“The scariest moment is always just before you start.”

~ Stephen King, On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft