Quick post before I nip into town to see The Shondes. Yes, I am going out, and not to a gig! Is this what people mean by a social life? Hmmm…May not be very good at it as three of the five people I was going out with had to cancel. I don’t think it’s me tho….But, before I go, a few pictures for you.

Gayle sent me this today and I thought it was such a nice picture I would share. So serene I look, so calm, so very musical!

Not!

And some way too cute of the Mighty M taking Cabal for a walk, with Cabal being fine with it except desperately trying to keep by me…

And finally, mostly for Boss, as he can see my blog, but not his…..

Cabal seems to be eating better now, and happier. I swear he Knows when Boss is coming home soon. Tonight tho, he could eat his chicken, but only if he took it outside, and ate it in the rain. Of course.

Right. I’m off, I’ll let you know how the music was when I get home, but I suspect I will tell you, it Rocked!

Love and Music,
Lorraine

Oh dear. It seems Lorraine’s unexpectedly handed me the keys to the van, as she’s had to run off to tonight’s gig (where I’m told she’ll be playing the bagpipes). Yes, I’m as baffled as you are. But she really wanted to get all the night garden pieces posted tonight; in my capacity as the Backup Fairy, I’m pleased to oblige in her absence. Many thanks to Phiala, Spacedlaw, Ariandalen, and Stacy: you’ve shown us your hearts, and rewarded us with beauty. It doesn’t get better than that.

Fireflies & Stardust
by Nathalie Boisard-Beudin

Untitled
by Phiala

The garden is not haunted.
Leaves rustle only from the cool night breeze.
Those flowers bloom at night for moths, not pixies.
No gnome lives in the hollow tree.
A row of garlic keeps the nonexistent vampires at bay.
Those glowing eyes definitely do not belong to a zombie.
I will go in to bed now, the bed without the monster underneath.

Green Moon Garden
by Ariandalen

There was a light breeze among the roses. The garden was lit only by the stars. It had been a long day, and tomorrow would be even longer. I desperately needed sleep, but there I was, out in the garden, trying not to dwell on the next day’s events.

There was a sudden sharp scent of rosemary, so I turned and saw her walking towards me.

“Isn’t it lovely how the limestone path glows in the starlight?” she asked calmly, her long white dress shifting ever so slightly in the breeze. “Yes,” I said.

She walked softly along the path, stopping at one rose before moving to the next. Without looking at me, “There will be a new moon tonight. Did you know that? The second for this month, a green moon.” I stood where I was, unable to move toward or away from her. “Hunh. Now that you reminded me, yes. A good time for new beginnings.” I thought I saw a soft smile play across her lips.

She moved to the next rose bush, softly cupping a white single rose in her hands. She bent over so that her face was right next to the blossom and inhaled deeply. Her brows knit together as she stood and looked at me. “I know you chose your roses for their scent, but I don’t know why I cannot smell them. I can only detect a hint of their fragrance. Can you tell me why?”

Before I could say a word, the tiniest sliver of a moon appeared in the sky. A single moonbeam landed between us, creating a hazy opening in the air. We both stared at it in wonder. A stronger breeze seemed to come from the opening, at least enough of one to move her hair slightly off her shoulders, though I felt nothing.

Her face became radiant with a smile as she moved towards the portal. “There! That is the scent I remember. And music. Such music!” Still I stood, riveted to my spot. She placed one foot through the now glowing portal, turned and asked, “Won’t you come with me?”

I shook my head, “No. I can’t right now.” She stepped on through, waving, then the portal closed with a sigh. I fell to my knees, and the tears that would not come earlier that evening began to fall.

darkness finally~     peace and cold,

now I can work,     freely and with ease,

I do not practice      for perfection,           only function:and that; I have perfected.

unborn mouths to feed      all are restless, confined.

I pass a single elegant appendage over it       soon my darlings...

beyond~

something stirs

something panics

something dies

we shall dine

by the glow

of my red hourglass

shhhhhhhh

Short post tonight as it has been a long day here and I am ready to nip home to some Bengals and I Couch, and a little Tivo action.

Except I have home work. Hmmph. Forgot about that. It seems there is some sort of TEST thing next week, and I am meant to actually know, as in have memorized, something called Chapter One. Doesn’t seem fair somehow…(What do French Students who don’t have Nathilie to Skype with DO?????)

Kitty is back! I know, we knew this, but it makes me happy to know, and she will be here soon. I have no pictures here for you tonight, but if you nip over to Kitty’s Neverwhere Blog she has posted enough pictures for both of us. Lovely shots of the tour, and tales of wonder and excitement.

(SHE got to assist in the Pyro Department. Why don’t Paul and I have Pyro in the Pubs?)

No word on the Carrot. No cell phone in it’s traveling carton. I will keep you updated once it arrives at the Birdchick’s.

Phiala and Paul, whatever you are talking about keep it up.

We have decided that when you get your Night Garden Pieces done, send them to Jess. She is going to keep track of them, as I obviously am not the one for the job. Send them to me too, tho! I want to see them as soon as ever. In the subject line, include something subtle, like HEY DORK! THIS IS A NIGHT GARDEN PIECE. Then I will know…Sigh. (in my defense tho, I do get a LOT of e-mail and am juggling a few too many balls sometimes)

Dan, I wanted to clarify, you are NOT part of the people trying to encode something that would allow us to talk to aliens? As you believe, if they came among us, the global economy would be in big trouble? Whew. That’s good, you can tell they haven’t as the economy is so very….Oh.

Ok, and now the moment you have all been waiting for! Yes, here it is MORE ULLEANN PIPES! Can you believe I have only been playing one week! Just listen, it’s amazing, FOUR notes, played in no particular order!

(Warning: For the faint of heart….It’s truly a cacophony. Like some sort of hideous tortured soul. And the long suffering sigh you hear at the end? That’s not pipes, that’s the Dog Expressing his opinion of the entire project.)

Love and Magic,
Lorraine

Well, wasn’t this one of my better Faux-pas? Managing to completely not realize not one, but three things people posted, linked to or sent me were Night Garden Project things? Phiala, Spacelaw and Adriandalen, I am truly sorry, and need to keep better tabs on things. Jess is going to help me from now on, and once we get the new site up, things will be much better. And I got a fourth today too, from Stacy! Wonderful all they are!

I’m going to hold off and post them all on Friday, as I have gigs Friday night, Saturday Day, Saturday Night , and Sunday Day, and am then going to nip in and see The Shondes on Sunday night, with Paul and Woodsman Hans. And since blogging will be difficult, you’ll have lots of lovely things to read.

One thing I wanted to talk about was that, I know how hard it is to send stories, art, poetry, sculpture, music what ever it is you do, out into the world. I kept my stories close for a long time. I loved them, but I didn’t know if they would work for the world at large. Kitty and Kimbo had been urging me to go for it, and find a publisher, and of course Malena loved them, I had been writing them mostly to amuse her. But it was all of you who encouraged me to go for it. And gave me the heart to say, “Look, here is my heart”

Music is like that too, and performing. It’s hard to put your heart out there, and scary. I think what I am trying to say is yes, it’s scary, but what is important is not if you made something good, but that you put your heart into it, and put it out there, in whatever form your heart takes. One rule Adam Stemple taught me about performing was “Never Apologize on Stage”. Or in art. If you get up there and say, “well, I wrote this, I hope you like this poor pitiful thing..” you have created just that.

People may like what you do. And sometimes they won’t. What’s important is to go for it, and stand up for it. And learn. And then go and do something else.

There, enough with the deep thoughts, back to the Carrot who wanted to be a Mandrake root.

Our Fiend, as you can see, has been hanging out on it’s Goat Cheese Couch in the fridge, waiting to find out it’s fate. A lot of people seemed to be in favor of the moonlight burial, complete with an effigy of a hanged man, but more seemed in favor of sending it to Cinnamon to Disapprove of. The Birdchick was agreeable, and so………

Here is our Fiend reclining in it’s First class Priority Cabin, getting ready to travel. The Birdchick has promised both photos and Video, first Video for this blog!

And here, at the post office. Try explaining to those dear folk exactly why you are a) mailing a carrot and b) why you need photos of it. One post Lady said “Are you doing a Photo Doc on Bob?????

No, I said. On a Carrot.

Love and Madness,
Lorraine

Fods, long day. I am truly very tired. I was wondering on the way home from Dog School, what I could possibly write about that would be as fun as, Mr Marrot, Mandcake, Cuthulu Dude, and wasn’t coming up with anything. (He’s currently sitting in the fridge chilling out, since half the vote seems to be going for burying him so the Garden Gnomes can wonder, and half of the vote for sending him to Cinnamon to Disapprove of.)

Then, like a gift, for a worn out Assistanting-French-learning-dog-agility-girl, I find Page Two of the Night Garden Project! A poem by Jess.

It deserves it’s own entry. I am accompanying it with a picture of Venus, because I like it, it’s spooky, it’s my blog and I can do what I like, but mostly because it is getting WAY late and at least this way I can point out to her when I do get home, that I was not ignoring her…

Love and Night Gardens,
Lorraine

Tinkerbell and the Butterfly Bush
(for Audrey)

It isn’t true that Tinkerbell
came into our back yard at night,

to buzz around in sunny moon-
light and wait till my teeth fell out,

so she could carve a new tea set.
(Enamel’s stronger than ox-bone,

and Tinkerbells pay well.) But I
sat in the hall window seat, fists

over my ears (to keep out bats),
my lost teeth tucked into my palm.

Our Black Knight bush stood tall enough
to brush the sill, and butterflies

clung high to its blue-velvet blooms,
so near to the pane you could see

their needle-noses poke into
each tiny trumpet. I thought Tink

might land there and wait, hanging on
by her little bare feet and hands,

just like a butterfly– and I
swear the branch moved, though no breeze blew

as I pressed my nose to the glass.
It dipped beneath the sill and up:

a hundred eyes, each a tiny
orange flame, winked at me through the pane.

I didn’t know that the Black Knight
kept all her eyes open at night.

It seemed we shared a great secret.
I’m loathe to break her trust. But you

ought to know, and feel unafraid,
when Tinkerbell fails to appear–

or when something stirs in the night
where a butterfly should have been.

2008 by Jess Mersky

I am mis-understood. No one knows the pain I go thru on a daily, and nightly, basis. I have always been different, and I have never fit in. I have always known that I never would.

They laugh at me, and mock me, and say it is all in my head, and that I am not normal. This I know too well, all too well. I am not normal. I am not like the others. I am myself.

They see Carrot, most Carrots anyway, and think, ah, juice, or perhaps soup or cake. Or a light snack, in lieu of potato chips. But that it is not me. I was not born, nor bred like most of my kind.

For you see, I am a Mandrake Root, born into the body of a Carrot.

I was meant to come to life, under the body of a Hanged Man, under the full moon. A wise women should have come to me, armed with the Secret of pulling my deep rooted self from the Earth, without becoming mad from my screams.

I should have been lulled by a beautiful maiden, who would sing the Old songs to me, I should have had only to reach out and embrace her with my tendrils, and known only joy.

I should have been used, as my fellows have been for centuries, in potions, and spells, and rights, that witches, good and bad, concoct on nights when there is magic in the air. I wanted to heal. Or to hurt.

I am a creature of mystery, and enchantment and of legend!!!! This I know. Deep in my heart, and in my soul. But I live like this. A Mandrake Root, trapped in the body of a carrot, for all time. I will never know all that I can be, nor fulfill my destiny.

I turn my back on your juices, salads, and soup.

I will wait for the night I awaken.

As myself.

Love and magic, Lorraine

What a most excellent fun day it was. Got up really early, and spent some time with The Birdchick and Friends, while they set up for banding birds, always fun, and then headed out for Fest, in the Prius, with the Dog.

(Think clown car, it does work, and I put a bed in there for him. HIS car takes way too much gas for a weekly jaunt)

Cabal loves the Fest. He gets to go for a ride, always good, no matter where we are going, he is with me, (I am so the Alpha in the absence of Boss) and it’s like a day long Walk, with other dogs everywhere. Mostly he stays with our Minnion when I am playing, a Very Nice Girl named Nicky with many piercings that he has taken a liking to.

(Don’t you wonder why I mentioned her piercings? Read on, my dears…)

But sometimes, it all gets too much, and he has to BE with me….Not a great shot of me in my Fest dress, but fun of him….It’s just my show, no reason to stay awake for it or anything….

Gayle came out with her son, the Mighty M, which was beyond delightful fun. Cute Police are going to be ON that kid, much fun collecting treasure, and I spoiled him rotten finding things to put in his Spider Bag. Sorry Gayle, I’ll do it again in a second.

Gayle and Nicky, of the Many Piercings, got to hear my Bag Piping, they were the only two brave enough, the rest bailed en masse when I pulled them out. They’ll be sorry…..

(OK, so it WAS pretty hideous, but I do have four notes now…)

So, this will sound a little strange. And I don’t know quite what to make of it, but Cabal, after some three odd weekends with Nicky (of the many piercings) decided that, well, piercing ones nose was in fact the cool thing to do.

We were walking thu the shop from our Green Room (”Room” is stretching, it has neither walls nor roof, but it is our spot behind a friendly shopkeeper) and, I have NO idea how, odds might be a MILLION to one, but Cabal managed to pierce his nose.

The Shopkeeper and her Husband have art that hangs on short chains, with a hook at the end of it, small hook, not quite an inch, an S hook. One was hanging on a nail, about Dog height.

I do not know how it happened, as we walked past, but Cabal managed to, well, Pierce his nose, all the way thru, as we walked past! He yelped, I saw it, Jeff the husband tried to get it out, the S hook with 6 inches of chain hanging from his nose, Cabal freaked..Jeff said, I hold, you get it out.

UH…..

Well, one does what one has to.

Got blood all over my nice white chemise, but it came straight out. (the hook, it remains to be seen if the blood does) I was shaking and thinking “Don’t throw up, don’t throw up”

HOW he managed that I truly do not know. It seems fine now, tho I think a call to the vet is in order in the morning. A lesson on the dangers of trying to fit in.

Came home to what was left of a Mouse. Not much. I think I am glad Mim is so on the job. I think.

I am ready for no more adventures today, tho all in all…

It was pretty fun.

Love and Piercings,
Lorraine

Cabal is having another sleepover, hopefully, with less disastrous results than the last one….It went something like this….

CABAL: What a great day, huh, Freck???

FRECK: Yeah Cabal! This is the best. They dropped me off early, and we got to play in the Dog Pen. Can you believe how muddy we got in the hour before Lorraine got into work????

CABAL: Great idea you had, jumping in the pool, then rolling around in the dirt! I don’t know what Lorraine was sighing about, we were REALLY glad to see her! You jumped all over her, and I didn’t leave her side. What did she mean when she said she had just taken a shower?

FRECK: Beats me. What’s her problem? We followed her into the house and went everywhere with her? I think she was happy, did you see how fast we got to go to Doggie Day Care???

CABAL: I really liked the way you leapt from the car and took OFF! We got to chase you forever! And wasn’t it nice of her to have rabbits for us to chase when we got home??? We went WAY off into the woods, who cares about a few Burrs?

FRECK: Isn’t it dinner time? What are you having?

CABAL: Same old, same old, half a raw chicken. What are you having?

FRECK: (Pause.) (Long Pause.) Crap. They left kibble. Say, buddy old pal, couldn’t help but notice YOU have half a chicken….

CABAL: (Warily) Yes. I do. Go eat your kibble.

FRECK: Awww…Come ON….

CABAL: I like you, but no. My chicken. I am going to carry it everywhere and eat it every time I get a few steps ahead of you. And since YOU aren’t eating the kibble, I am going to eat it when you are done.

FRECK: I am HUNGRY here, look, it isn’t easy being me. I’m telling Lorraine, with my imploring brown eyes, she’ll crack in a second. See? I have steak now….

CABAL: HEY!!!!!!!!!!

And so it went. Dogs. Gotta love ‘em. But silently, they are asleep now.

Which is where I will be soon, two days at the Festival. Tomorrow sitting in for Fiddler/Bagpipe Teacher Joe, and Sunday because Fiddler/Bagpipe Teacher Joe will be back, and I will get to play with him, and get my lesson.

Everyone will be mighty impressed with with my three notes. I know Miss Kitty will be when she gets her voicemail tonight. A special message for her last day of the tour…

Love and the Weekend,
Lorraine

You know in old British TV shows, where they have the police cars zooming around with the siren’s on? And how they sort of do a two note Whhhe, hoo, whhhe-hoo???

Well, I can now make JUST that sound with my bagpipes. Yet another useful skill I am developing.

I learned a LOT in class today. Not so much French, but other things. You know, college is a LOT of work! (I am guessing you all DO know, except Emily, and she will find out)

Like, when the teacher asks, “Where is your textbook” because you are the only person in class who has not opened it to the desired page, and your answer goes something like “What textbook? We have textbooks??”

Duh. I said I would be happy to buy this book, but what was it and where did one acquire it, and they very patiently told me, No, no, you go to the library textbook section, and they give you one. You rent it. Show them your Student ID….

“Student ID?,” I asked weakly. We took up a solid 20 minutes explaining the mysteries of such things to me, which everyone seemed very happy to do, and they were very nice, but I am really shy, no not kidding, if I’m not on stage or assistanting or know you well, very shy.

The teacher also mentioned things like what had I shown when I paid for the course, and I explained they had been pretty vague about what it was costing me or where I paid this….And so it went. A one point I felt obliged to explain I really did function very well in the real world, but college was simply beyond me. Apparently.

A very nice girl took me to the library, where I found my first sane person, who told her co-hort to just give me the book, I was in the system somewhere and it was un-likely I would WANT the thing if I wasn’t taking French, and winked at me and said (Paraphrasing here) “You don’t need no stinking Student ID” I will always love this women.

Now, my English Major and properly educated friends, my troubles are far from over. There are appalling gaps in my education, and I need some help.

Today, we conjugated the verb “Erte” or in English “To be” after the lesson, I kind of grasped how it goes in French, but the problem is, I don’t understand it in English. I am really confused about what is First Person, second person and third person, singular and plural. And which words are what, like am, are, is….

And if you have a noun or proper noun, what is what there?

Can you help me, explaining it as simply as possible? Jess said I wrote my stories in second person, which I gather is “You” but I am really quite confused….

I suspect this will not be the last time I ask you for help.

Teach me, s’il vous plait…..

Love and Grammar,
Lorraine

My Note has two friends now, and I can make the thing make notes each time I pick it up. I ought to be happy, but it sounds, if anything, worse now that I can play three notes. Kind of the opposite of progress…(Congress? I slay myself!)

Apparently, it takes longer than two days to learn these Bag Pipes. I will give myself at least a week.

I spoke to Spacedlaw today via Skype, before my first French class, to kind of warm up, as it were. The only thing I had to work with was “French For Cats” and the only thing I managed to pronounce well enough for her to understand was “I do not want to be neutered” (Je ne veux pas etre chatre) which I am sure will amaze and impress any French people I speak to.

French is kind of wacky. Today I learned a good rule of thumb is don’t pronounce the last half of any word, it’s only there to look cool, and has no bearing on how the word is actually pronounced.

One good thing, this class is on the 4th floor of an old building. Between those stairs every day and Doggie Boot Camp, I am going to start getting FIT.

If Doggie Boot Camp doesn’t kill me. Doofus cut in front of me tonight instead of going for the jump, chasing the hand with the chicken no doubt, and I went OVER him, in a most beautiful tuck and roll maneuver,landing on my back, with a few more rolls to finish it off. A perfect 10 from the judges, after they got done laughing.

Spoke to Kitty on a rare day off for her today. She sounds much better as the tour is nearly over, and she will be out here by the end of the month, then back again in October, which will be wonderful fun. Boss will be home again in about two weeks too.

I will amaze them both, and sooth their tired traveling spirits with my mystical Irish Bagpipes, and whisper gently to them in the only French I know….

Je ne veux pas etre chatre…..

Love, French, Pipes and Dramatic Falls,
Lorraine