The Egg

It started one day with a crack in the egg,
It quivered and shook and out popped a leg.
Then out popped another and out came a wing,
And then a third leg, what a curious thing!
The hens gathered round and watched with great awe,
They weren't quite prepared for the next thing they saw...
The eggshell flew open with a great burst of flame,
And there sat a dragon, A DRAGON! The shame!
This wasn't a chick, all fluffy and yellow,
It was a 4-legged, green-scaly young fellow.
A ruckus broke out as the hens fled in fright,
But mother hen stayed and hugged her charge tight.
"Come back, silly hens," she called to the brood,
"What a terrible welcome, why are you so rude?"
Then she told them the tale of a she-dragon weeping,
As she left with the hens her young egg for safe-keeping.
For the dragons are hunted almost to extinction,
By brave princes of the old folk-tale distinction.
Dragon-mother wanted her child to be safe,
And hoped that the hens would care for the young waif.
The hens clucked together and mused for a bit,
Then one of them thought of a great benefit.
It gets freezing in winter in the old chicken dorm,
And a dragon would certainly help them keep warm.
So the dragon became an honorary hen,
Loved and clucked over again and again.

Purple Pain

Well....

Today I am in the middle of writing a short note to a prospective penpal. I am using my favourite pen, a candy-striped Parker fountain pen which has blue ink in the cartridge. 3 sentences in the ink runs out. Yes, bad planning but hey, I can change to a funkier colour (and the new penpal will think I'm 'special') - so I select violet and proceed to change the cartridges. All is going well until I realise the new cartridge is not compatible with my pen.....but the seal has popped open. "No problem" I think, I'll just transfer the new ink to the old cartridge using a clean syringe (sick rat - another story), slight problem that I have no needles to help draw it up, but I'll manage. I squeeze the violet ink into a spoon and suck it up into the syringe; the end of the empty cartridge just fits over the syringe-end - all is going well..... until the last couple of milligrams when the ink blows back!!!!! There I am, violet fingers, violet grout now surrounding the kitchen tiles, delicate purple dots festooning my tshirt. I clean up as quickly as possible - realisation slowly dawning that this beautifully vibrant colour is not, I repeat not, coming off my skin..... I check the packaging and one word leaps out... PERMANENT.... OMG! Did any hit my face??? Luckily not. After trying exfoliator I call a friend. Once she has stopped laughing we decide on a mixture of borax and sugar. I rub and rub and rub - there is no movement, I seem destined to be a purple pixie; but as I rinse my hands under the running water the ink runs away!! Result!! As a bonus my hands are as smooth as silk, and normal colour once again.

Just one thing before you go.... now I know how to remove the ink, do I go for the full comedic effect of coating my hands in ink, or will this game of fate-temptation backfire???? hmmm......

Brief encounter

It happened by chance, the day that love came,
They'd ne'er before met, and wouldn't again.
Caught up in the crowd, the wet hustle and bustle,
Pulled this way and that in the ensuing tussle.
So when things were calmer, the both looked around,
Each spotting the other, the feeling profound.
And so side-by-side they were joined at the hip,
In fact they were sharing a wooden clothes clip.
For knickers and boxers they were respectively were,
And pegged on the line, their love it did stir.
A beautiful day, spent there in the sun,
Flirting and laughing, they had so much fun.
Unitl things went wrong in a cruel twist of fate,
And a sad, sudden end was brought to their date.
They were put in a basket and taken indoors,
Folded and put into separate drawers.
Now they think of each other most of the time,
And hope for reunion on the long washing line.

This is me

I suppose I should really tell you a bit about me.... maybe convince you to come back and read about my latest exploits/poetry/ramblings.... let's face it, probably ramblings, I seem to live on a soapbox lately, lol.

So, I'm Tracey, (that's me on the left), 34, married to lee for 9 years in August. We have 2 lovely children, Raymond is almost 10 and Jade is almost 5. For 13 years I was a dental nurse, not realising this was a career until I left work to adopt our kids. I miss work, well, I miss the people. Well, some of them.... ;o) We have a dog Lucy, some tropical fish and 9 fancy rats - yes, you read that correctly, 9 rats. Yes, by choice. No, they're not dirty, they're actually very clean and are very intelligent. But the rats are a future blog posting. I love animals and couldn't imagine life without them... I am working on Lee to let us have something new living with us.... :o)

What else? Well, I like to craft: jewellery making, beading, knitting, crochet, patchwork, quilting, sewing, cross stitch. I tend to embrace a new hobby whole-heartedly; usually by almost bankrupting us buying everything I need... and it's not very often I complete a project! I do myself an injustice, since I discovered jewelling, I have made lots of items; maybe this is a new leaf eh? :o) I also read. A lot. It's not unusual for me to go through 6+ books in a week, which is why I need to visit the library more and not the bookstore....

You may have noticed poetry mentioned previously - I dabble in this medium from time to time. Most of the time it rhymes. Usually it is amusing or aimed at children, occasionally it is darker. Is it any good? Well, if you smile/laugh/connect with it, then I consider that a success. Grammatical correctness often has to go out of the window for the rhythm, but that just appeals to the (law-abiding, scaredy-cat) rebel in me ;o). When I get around to posting some poetry, feel free to throw your praise (or rotten tomatoes - although praise is preferable) my way.

I love to plan things, making a list is such a source of pleasure to me. Often my plans never get off the paper, but hey, I can't call myself a procrastinator if all my plans come to fruition can I?? Future plans include learning to make glass beads, learning to use silver clay, learning Spanish, finding a housework routine, to see the Northern Lights, to host an amazing dinner party, to renew my wedding vows in Vegas with Elvis officiating. I shall let you know how I get on, or dazzle you with my excuses for it not happening.....

Well, I must go, I really need to get on with the washing up (actually, I think I'll make a cuppa and surf the net a little more). Thank you for stopping by, please come again, it was lovely chatting. But one thing... next time bring cake ;o)

Au Revoir - see, Spanish!!! ;o)

How Did I Get Here?

Hello you, you're here too. Where are we? How did we get here? All I know is that I asked what a blog was and...'poof!' I arrive here. So let's give it a whirl shall we???