Monday, November 30, 2009


The Little One, being the eldest, feels compelled to offer her advice and expertise to Wee Small about her Christmas list. The Little One seems to think that Santa may not understand what all Wee Small's scribbles are.

She had this sage piece of wisdom to offer.

The Little One: You should get someone to write it for you.

Wee Small looks sullen. She likes writing in her own invented alphabet of up and down scribbles.

The Little One: Last year I drew a picture of a sewing machine, but because I could not write "sewing machine" I didn't get one. Santa did not know what it was. It looked like a bus stop.

Wee Small: Did you get a bus stop for Christmas?

The Little One: No, I didn't.

(Well I personally think one should be able to spell "sewing machine" before being let loose on one. )

Saturday, November 28, 2009

science facts: the smaller they are...

...the earlier they wake up.

Then due to the inverse properties of the Wee Tiny Law of Wakefulness, one must also be awake with them to listen to the dawn chorus of cicadas.

Some people would be watching the softly changing pink sky with splashes of cream on the clouds with delight. But my eyes are welded shut, only bleariness enters them at this time. My eyes refuse to work until it is a respectable hour. Like 10:30am.

So it's just the ears that function in the sensory department at this stage. They are doing their bit for the team "shoulder to the grindstone, all hands  now" and other such marvellous phrases of communal "pulling together" under dificult circumstances. The body hears the call of the ears and grumbles '"Oh alright then" and shuffles about looking for a teapot using the arms, without the guide of the eyes. The eyes dismiss all that caring and sharing nonsense with a curt "no." The eyes are the aristocrats of the body.

There is a lot of social politics involved in today's science lesson.

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

not hot at all.

I was lying in the shade under a tree, even though the weather had changed from what meteorologists technically describe as "outrageous" to "balmy, with light zephyrs."

Wee Small marched up to me and said "It's tomorrow!"

I don't know how she works that one out. It certainly had me puzzled. If it was tomorrow then what was I doing now?

Sunday, November 22, 2009

too hot

It's too hot today.
To get all stroppy and technical about it, it's 41° Celsius or 106° Fahrenheit.

Which is just too hot for all the tiny ones on tummy mountain. And too hot for the not so tiny ones as well.

The Little One has discovered the tape measure, and is measuring everything, and giving us regular updates on how tall, long or short everything is. I cannot imagine that I will need or even be able to recall any of this knowledge in 10 minutes time. I think if it isn't too hot for measuring, then it is too hot for the regular updates at least.

Wee Small is babbling incessantly. It's definitely too hot to be babbling incessantly. Earlier today she did this to an apple:

"I did it with my nails" she said.

Bring on another storm.

Saturday, November 21, 2009

time to dust off the tummy mountain emergency response system

Sometimes on tummy mountain you can see the clouds boiling up into a massive grey stack from the south west, and hear the rolling peals of thunder telling one and all that the hot weather is about to be broken with a huge storm.

I do what any person does in a time of crisis: I rush out to take the washing off the line.
The little ones rush out to sound the tummy mountain emergency response system. Their voices.

From out the front I could here the joyous yelling of small children and I wondered what they were doing. Luckily Wee Small has a voice, that one could politely say, carries. So I could here her bellowing from the fields:

             "Attention! Attention! All Butterflies!
              Get under cover now!
              There is going to be a Big Storm!
              Emergency! All Butterflies!
              Stay at home! The Rain is Coming!"

Well, we all have to do what we feel is the right thing to do when the big storms come.

Thursday, November 19, 2009

Stop Press: Little Ones See the Future

Many people from all the four corners of tummy mountain have thrown their arms up in the air at the astonishing news just in today. It appears that the little ones have hitherto unexpected accurate powers of precognition, or to put it in good old fashion plain speaking English - they can see the future.

Independent observers were astounded when Wee Small announced that in March 2010 she would go "walking with sticks." Scientific analysts were amazed at Wee Tiny's ability to forecast that sometime in April 2010 she would "dance with some rabbits."

Tummy mountain officials in black suits and sunglasses have documented all the predictions in a calendar, with some artistic impressions of each future event in chronological order, to see whether the little ones' pronouncements will come to pass, or fall by the wayside like so many other flash in the pan hoaxes of the past.

Despite the cynical scepticism of the bureaucracy, on the auspicious date of November 18 journalists from Etsy reported these amazing abilities, but due to my inadequate grasp of what is happening right now (let alone the future, or indeed the past) I was unable to document with strict historical accuracy the news as it broke on the front page of Etsy. Other alternative agencies verified the broadcast as seen here thanks to Craftcult.

Monday, November 16, 2009

rescue mission

The Little One, being the eldest, is far more capable of certain tasks and applying herself than, let's say, Wee Small who tends to crush and break things, then yell at the remains. They say that sometimes little children love things too much. Oh well.

One day when The Little One went out to play she found a butterfly all fresh out of the cocoon drying it's wings in the air and all ready for it's first flight. Unfortunately the ants had found the butterfly too.

The Little One rescued the butterfly, made a nice little home for it with food and all and left it in a nice place outside to recover away from the ants. Which the butterfly did and flew away.

I said to her " You rescued that butterfly you know. The ants would have eaten it."
"Of course they would," she replied "The ants were hungry. I could see that selfish look on their faces."

It was hard to remain composed after that statement.

Saturday, November 14, 2009

wee and small and pony

Not long ago the little ones told me about a farm up on the ridge where there were very small ponies.
Now we were there, the little ones and I.
And this is the wee pony

She is clearly a very small pony.
We gave her (and her mum) a carrot and continued on our way.

She is a very sweet (and a very small) pony.

Monday, November 9, 2009

wee piggy bank

Wee Small has been saving up.
She now has 11 moneys.
She is going to buy a real live pony.
Do you think she has enough?

Sunday, November 8, 2009

misery on the mountain

All the little ones have the sniffles.
So have I.
Never has there been such misery.
We like to wallow in our misery.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

other worlds

Sometimes when I am cooking up some soup for the wee tinies I will ask The Little One, she being the eldest and most responsible, if she could gather some ingredients from the vegetable patch. She'll stop whatever she is doing and go out and do this for me. She has always been happy to do this. And now I know why.

Last night I went with her and discovered a whole new world on tummy mountain that I was unaware of. With her little lamp in hand that bobs along leaving a pool of light glowing around her feet she is joined first by a mysterious cat - huge fat and black, that runs around and pounces on her, runs off into the darkness, returns and pounces on her again. He is playing some kind of game on his own. Who could understand the imaginings of this night predator. The Little One says hello but is barely deflected on her way to the vegetable patch.

The cat slinks off into the night, and almost immediately the happy "voot voot" noises of the bandicoots start up again. Their little shadowy bodies scurry about as they snuffle and happily dig up the front lawn looking for grubs. Voot.

When she reaches the vegetable patch The Little One says hello to all the snails that have come out to eat our vegetables. They are her little friends and she has a wee talk to them as she gathers some spinach. She helps the occasional straggler straight onto a tomato plant. It is their food first and foremost, we are just borrowing some leaves of spinach. Satisfied that everyone is happy she heads back inside.

On her way back everything that happened before happens again, just in reverse order.