Teddies and Pickles

Story 6

"I'm very proud of my name," said Hodgepodge bear, "It's got a long history if I could only bring it to mind." You see I have lived such an eventful life, the adventures have rather all melded together like a sticky marshmallow, mmm marshmallow. I like marshmallows especially in the hot chocolate at bed time. Did I tell you the story of when I rescued a cocoa bean from a jungle elephant. Buttoneye Bear, would have rolled his eyes if it were possible to; instead he sighed. Hodgepodge bear was renowned for going off on these tangents, and could never tell a tale from start to end. Actually this was most likely where he got his name from; his tales really were a hodge bodge of mixed memories.

Story 7

"You put WHAT in the Christmas pudding?!" cried Maria in a panic. "A secret pickle like you said" Markles eyes were wide, with terror. "Did I get it wrong", he whispered. Maria's face had twisted into a bemused grimace as she pictured a slimy green pickle living in the centre of the Christmas pud. She couldn't be angry though. Only Markles would think it logical to put a pickle in a pud. This the same man who recited science equations and such gobbledeguck for fun. "I said nickle darling, I'm not sure a pickle is going to bring anyone much luck". Speak for yourself thought Doxie, their shaggy springer spaniel. I like pickle pud!

N.B. Mark would like to point out that under no circumstances would he ever put a pickle in a xmas pud. Unless of course he was getting Maria back for spreading nasty pickle stories about him.

More hotpenning fun - The Snodgebucket

Story 5 

"And this," continued Liz, "is a Snodgebucket - I think you'll find it very useful. "Oohh I have never before seen a Snodgebucket", said Maria. "I shall put it to use straight away, I am sure my desk is overflowing with snodge".

A snodgebucket - a place of hibernating jottings, and the last vestage of hope for a desperate writer

Now for those of you not familiar with snodge, let me enlighten you. You see even here in random creative scribble world we are still plagued by jargon, and Snodge stands for:

S - scrappy

N - notes

O - of

D - dubious

G - general

E - eloquence

Thus the purpose of a snodge bucket is to gather all of the these ramblings into one coherent place. You non-writers out there are most likely more used to the Snodgebucket's more common name 'bin'. However the true writer knows that even out of the most seemingly awful nonsensical writing, an ounce of pure brilliance may one day appear. It is thus paramount that all works in progress be kept in a Snodgebucket, until such a time as this brilliance is recognised.


I have two more to come, but first to cook pretend xmas dinner

Bye for now

Maria x

Hotpenning Fun

Firstly I must say a huge thank you to Lizzy for giving me all those sentences to work on. I know it has taken a little while but here you go. Hope you like them!

Story 1

Mrs Wicken gazed at the lump in the straw suspiciously, it was not Mr Wicken's usual toilet spot and so she wondered what on earth it could be. Wait a minute it just moved! Now that really was strange. A wriggly little poo? The more it wriggled the more it got covered in straw until it looked like a spiky little conker shell.

"Mr Wicken's!" yelled Mrs Wicken's. "Come explain this wandering spiky yellow poo"

Well Mr Wicken's was as taken aback as Mrs Wicken's. "I promise you chickypoo I haven't eaten anything that could give me that dicky a tummy".
"Cheep" said the scurrying spikey yellow poo. Bashing into another straw bale in blind haste.
"Talking spikey yellow poo!" said Mrs Wicken's. She was having quite a blond moment. Poor baby Wicken's had transformed beyond all recognition. 

Story 2

Oh my god! Look at that SLUGH cried Mrs Bear - NOW what are we going to do? Slugh? Whats a slugh? Quick to the google machine. Maria typed frantically but to no avail the words meaning evaded her. Perhaps it had something to do with that lovely place Slough? Were they known to Slugh? Or perhaps even Slur? Maybe a negative comment directed at Slough is known as a Slugh?

Slightly chuffed with herself for creating a new definition Maria plonked the giant Collins dictionary on the table and looked up the chaps name who made it. I'm sure the people of Slough would love my new word to be in the next edition! Ever the optimist she wrote to the publisher the very same day. Of course she had to add some examples of the words use:

1. Slough is a dump
2. Slough has lots of ploughs and likes to play with cows

Well how rude said the publisher we wouldn't want to encourage these slanderous words against the beautiful and culturally diverse Slough!
And so Maria's definition was forgotten except in her head. And although it was naughty she smiled when she thought of a bad thing about Slough. 

Story 3

"Hmmm, Writer's chalk, that sounds useful" - Maria poked it experimentally wondering if it was edible. A quick lick to get the creative juices flowing. Urghh! gross, OK so it is not edible. I know I will smear it on my head and then my mind will absorb its special powers. Markles walks in to find his wife with a white head sucking on a pencil. "Honestly darling I thought you were sane when I married you". Startled Maria spins round. "I was in the 'zone', dreaming of creativity". I repeat "I thought you were sane when I married you". Shaking his head with happy disdain Markles walked away leaving Maria on her imaginary cloud of thoughts.

Story 4

"Today," said Maria to her reflection in the mirror, "I am going to shock the world!" I have had a yes week but it was challenging enough. I want more!! I will systematically think of all the things people wouldn't expect little old me to do. 

1. Die hair purple and cut into mohecan - add glitter and stars for girly touch
2. Denounce all clothes, none of them suit me anyway, nudey is the way forward
3. Order KFC because it is finger licking good no matter what the greenies may tell me
4. From my headquarters - bed; I will hack the Internet sites of the BBC and other major TV people and broadcast my evil plan
5. Unbeknowst to everyone, I am a genius at physics and such stuff. By rolling under my bed and lifting a 'lost' shoe you will find a secret button to my laboratory. Password = where's your shoe mate?
6. he he he, just thinking of my mischief has me excited! For I have been busy this last year. Not baking but making! A GIANT ELECTROFIA. 
7. By pretending I fancied the head boffin at NASA I snuck it up into space and attached it to the whole earth, like a head brace.
8. The super sun charged (oh yes renewable evil power) GIANT ELECTROFIA is going to shock the world!!!
9. You ready to feel the buzz world?

Suddenly all across the world, people shuddered at a sharp twinge that went through their bodies. Jellies shook with extra vigour, rattles rattled until they could rattle no more. Indeed the rattle snakes tail fell right off. But there was one smiling face. Sat on a washing machine in Dorset, Alice's face was a picture. "Golly gosh that was brilliant!".

I realise that these stories are very odd, and it does make me question what on earth goes on in my head, but hey its all good fun. I will complete more hotpenning soon. Thanks again Lizzy, and more are always welcome 

Mad Maria xxx

The Best Baked Alaska in the World

Rather randomly Baked Alaska popped into my head and instantly reminded me of my parents. The baked alaska is a running joke in our family, in that my poor dad has been promised one for 21 years! Ever since my parents got married, my mum who supposedly makes a gorgeous baked alaska, has failed to deliver. Worse then that, she has raised his hopes only to dash them. Two such examples spring to mind:

1. If you buy me a food processor I will be able to make you one (always the optimist he fell for it)
2. All the family is here so I will make one - oh Sarah is going out, it's too big for three

Now, I realise it is a little mean pointing the finger at mum in this way, but my mind began imagining how brilliant this pud must be for my dad to still cling relentlessly to this little dream, that one day a beautiful baked alaska will be sitting there steaming hot on the table waiting for him to devour it.

Having never personally had a proper baked alaska, I don't know what all the fuss is about. But I can picture my dad drooling over the sticky caramel flamed meringue. Stabbing hopefully with his spoon deep into the cold heart, still a little fearful that it may all be a mirage and further signs of going senile. The warm spread of joy when he pulls out a perfect mix of cold ice-cream and warm gooey meringue, and slips it into his ever broadening smiley mouth.

No doubt a delight to the tummy as much as the mind! All those years, and it is so worth the wait! And here lies the problem. I think my dad may have put the baked alaska on such a high pedestal that my mum is now too afraid to make it. This was her speciality dish, what if it goes wrong? Honestly mum, I know it might dent the pride a little if it was as perfect as your usual baking, but do you really think dad would mind licking the bowl of a botched attempt? And what if it goes right? You can be the proven Queen of Baked Alaska's! Either way, dad will be chuffed to have finally had one.

Well dad, I have done all I can to persuade mum to bake you one, do let me know if I have succeeded.

Much love,

Maria xx


p.s. here is the recipe for the one in the picture www.bbcgoodfood.com/recipes/1936/chocolate-orange-bombe-alaska-with-hot-chocolate-s 

Bad Poetry

I am entertaining myself again, and the brain has gone into poetry mode. Sadly my brain is rather useless at poetry, and thus created two rather awful poems. I am sharing them with you, firstly for your amusement, and secondly to prove and encourage you the reader, that there are people worse then you at writing rhyme.

Unnamed

I wrote a poem for you dear

I hope one day you'll hear

Though you seem very far away

I know the price I'll have to pay

To have you home again some day

Honest Love

Look upon me honestly

and see what my eyes see

My smile is false

It's lies you're fed

You know my heart is dead

I tricked you into loving me

But now I'll set you free

Just don't look back

Your life's been spared

No longer are you snared

I would love to read some better attempts.

p.s. Sorry they are rather gloomy, for a happy person I do tend to write the macabre! All is well in my world so no need for panicky calls mum :)

The writing must go on

Monday brought with it a sad end to my creative writing class, and in the run up to it, I was left feeling rather worried that without my compulsory two and half hours of pure written indulgence, my mind would cease to write.

I still find it rather daunting to sit in front of paper or laptop and just create - although the realise the irony, given that is exactly what I am doing now. The point is, I no longer have any one feeding me ideas. The hot penning exercises were perfect. One sentence however random and three minutes to let the mind and pen flow. Now though, I have to come up with my own, or, and this is what I am hoping for, YOU could help? Perhaps join in as well?

Why not pop a sentence in the comment box, and I promise (brownies honour) to write up and publish on my blog the end the result.

Thanks in advance, I look forward to writing for you soon

Maria xx