Wednesday, December 28, 2011

the magic of Christmas

Wee Tiny has had a marvellous Christmas with many unexpected presents from Santa (although it seems that Santa could not understand her long letter of scribbles.)

Her favourite gift is from a friend of the family. This friend, shall we diplomatically state, has a love of the little ones, if not a finer grasp of what makes a good gift to a child, and thus has in the past failed miserably in the art of giving presents. Yet this time the friend has scored an unexpected hit with Wee Tiny by giving her an office stapler.

A black office stapler.

At first Wee Tiny was confused, but after initial examination it has become her favourite toy.

There are several reasons why;

Firstly, it makes a very satisfying "ka-chonk-ah" sound every time it is pressed down


Secondly, it spills out little glittering silver things onto the floor after the "ka-chonk-ah" sound.

And though the glittery silver things ran out after about fifty ka-chonk-ahs, the ka-chonk-ah sound never stops. In fact it can go ka-chonk-ah for hours.

Wee Tiny is very delighted with her stapler.

Being an adult, I foolishly stepped in, and demonstrated how to reload the stapler AND revealed to her it's purpose by stapling two pieces of paper together.

Wee Tiny snatched it back. Wee Tiny did not want to know about that. It was her Stapler and it was for making ka-chonk-ah sounds and for spilling silver things on the floor. However, I did note that she has taken the reload knowledge on board.

And later on I discovered she had worked out the stapling part too. She had happily stapled her socks to her t-shirts.

What a marvelous thing Christmas is.

Monday, December 19, 2011

some good advice

The little ones have told Wee Golden about their preparations for Christmas. That is to say, putting up the Christmas tree, helping with the Christmas lights (we won't go into that "help") and sending their letters to Santa.

Now it is time to perhaps pay Santa a visit, so the little ones can talk to him in person.
And this is when Wee Golden piped up with some additional advice to heed.

Wee Golden: Sometimes Santa gets angry when you whack Santa.

Now I don't think for one minute that Wee Golden has been engaged in unsavoury scuffles with Santa, but I still think it is quite unusual advice to give. Well I don't think we'll have any problem there. We are very much against violence to Santa.

Thursday, December 15, 2011


Wee Golden dropped by tummy mountain the other day, to enlighten us with his perspective on life. His latest offering involves Santa.

Wee Golden:
Santa Claus should not wear red clothes.
Me: Why not?
Wee Golden: Polar bears will see him and get him.
Me: Does this mean Santa should wear camouflage?
Wee Golden: Yes, and he should carry a gun.


Saturday, December 10, 2011

right here, right now

The little ones do not understand why people use calendars. The little ones don't know what they want to do in an hours time, let alone a few months. The idea seems a bit strange to them, and they approach calendars with a wee bit of suspicion. In the past they believed that calendars told the future, but now they know that isn't true.

As Wee Small says "How can they know the future. They can't even talk."
Wee Tiny has been looking at it "for hours" (let's translate that as really about 50 seconds) and it "doesn't spoke once!"

There you have it. Calendars - future telling wonder devices? Or a preposterous pile of poppycock?

Friday, December 9, 2011



The Tummy Mountain Looking Forward Society has managed to crank out a few calendars for the upcoming year!

Watch this space for details!

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

be prepared

Christmas is on its way and the little ones are making serious preparations.
Very long letters to Santa are being written around here.

Some, like The Little One's, are very detailed and comprehensive. ...and if one would dare venture a criticism, perhaps a bit too long.

Some, like Wee Small's, are...well...mysterious and confusing, involving many new spellings of English and the odd backward letter.

Some, like Wee Tiny's consist of elaborate scribbles and many up and down strokes. She is very confident about the clarity of her letter, but I fear that she may need an interpreter.

And who better to interpret her letters than Santa! I am very confident that Santa is a handwriting expert, having received so many letters from small folk for so many years. I am surprised his services are not being employed in the justice system unravelling cases of forgery!

The little ones were quite anxious to post their letters to Santa nice and early. They woke me up at "Augghhh...ehhh...its still dark!" o' clock. So we stumbled down to the post box in the dark.

"It is a long way to walk to the post box!" I complain.
"But it is even further to the North Pole!" explains The Little One "That is why we have to start nice and early."

It is too early for me to understand any form of logic in that statement. Instead I appreciate the dawn chorus of birds, and think about a nice hot cup of tea when I get back home to tummy mountain.

Thursday, December 1, 2011

everyday life

Wee Golden dropped by tummy mountain the other day to enlighten us with his perspective of the world. Here is what he had to say:

Wee Golden: I'm an ordinary boy. I can change into ten different aliens.


Saturday, November 26, 2011

where can one find the time...

On tummy mountain the seasons are changing.
The heavy rains that precede summer are thundering down.
It has been this way for some time now.

The little ones are inside smearing their wee faces against the windows wondering when the rain will stop so they can run around outside.
I am wondering when they will clean up their wee craft area.
Everyday there seems to be some kind of excuse why not to do it.

We finally agreed that it would be done on Saturday.
It is now Saturday and I reminded Wee Small of her task.
"It's not Saturday today," she said. "It's Double Friday."

Just like that Wee Small creates an extra day and finds more time to do (or not do) all the things she has to do.
I wish I had thought of that whenever I have been short of time.

Sunday, November 6, 2011

more measurements

When Wee Golden was here the other day he told me what was on his mind;

Wee Golden: I am hungry
Me: You're always hungry! How big is your tummy?
Wee Golden: One hundred and sixty five!
Me: Impressive!
Wee Golden: My tummy can eat 100 percent off!

I am not sure what that means but he believes it 100 percent.


Monday, October 31, 2011


Jack and his family

This post has some explanations;

In the Land of Tummy, Halloween was never celebrated, and so us older ones don't really know what it is all about. Yet over the last few years, the wee little ones from all over the Land of Tummy seem to understand exactly what it is about;

Dressing up and eating lollies!

(lollies are also known as candy in many parts of the world.)

Wee Tiny, being very tiny was looking forward to the unbridled unhinged lollie festival that is Halloween. Even though she is very tiny, she seems to have some grasp on what is going on, and felt that I should understood the importance of Halloween.

So Wee Tiny explained it to me

Wee Tiny: A hello-ing, a lollies!
Me: Errr...what?

So Wee Small clarified what Wee Tiny had explained.

Wee Small: You go a hello-ing and you get lollies.
Me: A hello-ing?

The Little One, being the eldest, applied logic to Wee Small's clarification of Wee Tiny's explanation.

The Little One: You go to peoples places and say "Hello" and they give you lollies. That is why it is called "Hello-ing."

So we went to many peoples places that had orange and black balloons, the little ones said hello, and they got lollies. It seemed to work for them. We all had fun even though none of us really know what it is all about.

The next day Wee Golden dropped by, and I thought I would ask him what it is all about. Wee Golden thought I was silly, and he didn't tell me what it was about. Though Wee Golden did tell me something about Halloween that he thought I should know.

Wee Golden: It's not going to be Halloween for another six hundred and ninety five years.

Well that is a shame, but I think the little ones may just have enough lollies to last until then.


Saturday, October 29, 2011

breaking records

..and I don't mean smashing music on the floor.

The nature of this rambling story begins with a boy.

Wee Golden!
He has turned up!
All the way here! - On The Other Side Of Tummy Mountain!

He is very small but obviously very clever to have worked out how to get here.

Being very clever he told us that the tallest thing in the world is a giraffe.
Wee Small disagreed and said the tallest thing in the world is a house.
Wee Golden, being very clever, didn't miss a beat when he revised his first statement and told us that the tallest thing in the world is a giraffe on the roof of a house.

At this point the Tummy Mountain Department of Measurements and Weights intervened, in the interests of scientific accuracy, to present this graph in the form of an equation, ensuring that there cannot be any confusion as to what is the Tallest Thing in the World.

The evidence is pretty compelling. Neither the giraffe or the house can quite claim the record, but when combined it is incontrovertible. Government agencies from across the globe have contacted the little ones to update their data.

This is sure to get an entry in "The Tummy Book of Records" right after Wee Tiny's sensational "Most Butterflies Chased Across A Garden In a Ten Minute Period."


Saturday, October 22, 2011

the past

Time flies and I have been unpacking, unpacking, unpacking boxes forever. Even though we have been on the other side of tummy mountain for a month now there are still many more boxes to go. The little ones love all these boxes - raw materials for time machines, spaceships, cubby houses.

The little ones are doing their wee things, but I have not been focused enough in my role as Tummy Mountain Official Chronicler to bring you an update on the momentous events in their lives. I am sure if there is an official inquiry I will be sacked for negligence and incompetence. But who would take my place? I am certain that not only is my role hereditary - it is also lifelong! I am afraid they will just have to put up with me.

And so instead - a tale of the past. Inspired by comments from the last post.

When I was as wee as Wee Small I was playing with my Lego in the lounge room. I had made a spaceship that was about a foot and a half long. Just the right size for deep space exploration under the command of the heroic Captain Kraarg. Admiring Lego citizens gathered at the launch pad as final preparations were being made. Even my mother came to watch, though she wasn't smiling and waving like the Lego citizens - in fact she looked quite angry. She squatted down to get a closer view, she picked up the spaceship, and then she hurled it into the high ceiling where it exploded! Scattering debris over the entire lounge room, and leaving a shattered fuselage stuck in the ceiling like some huge sick plastic insect, from which occasional pieces of Lego rained down.

Well that was a bit unexpected.

Being a small child I was a bit confused, but I had worked something out over the intervening seconds - I was in trouble - probably very big trouble.

Was it that the Lego had taken over the entire lounge room for a week?
Should I have contained Space Station Xaxxar to the corner of the room?
Had I been asked to clean it up?
I do not recall.

Even though I was very small I knew instinctively that this was not good and that I would be in even more trouble when my father got home, and that maybe right now was a good time to run away.

Nervously I looked up at my mother quivering with rage. She pointed the "don't even think about going anywhere" finger at me and stormed out of the room to get a broom to knock the stuck fuselage pieces down from the ceiling.

Seconds ticked by.

I stood still.

So many emotions coursing through me - scared, nervous, and also strangely elated at the most thrilling flight that any of my spaceships had ever made! And to a destination that none of them had ever been before! The Mysterious Planet Urgruggtheesh with Inverted Gravity - only a legend to the most seasoned space explorers, but now a reality because of Captain Kraarg's amazing piloting skills after unknown difficulties during take off. Sure, the spaceship was obliterated but Captain Kraarg was safe and hanging upside down in the wreckage, smiling.

My mother, purple with rage, re-entered the atmosphere of the lounge room. Now was probably not the time to mention how funny Captain Kraarg looked hanging upside-down from the ceiling. She used the broom to knock most of the rest of it down. Except for a few pieces that had gone into the plaster and had pushed a hole through the ceiling. Those bits had to be taken down by standing on a ladder - which my father did when he got home. He was not impressed and I was punished old school style even though it was not me that wrecked the ceiling. The injustice of life!

For many years afterwards we had a strange hole in the ceiling and very clear circular impressions of Lego in the plasterwork. A reminder of the past until one day as a teenager it was repaired and painted over becoming just a memory of the past.


Thursday, October 6, 2011

the games small people play

Wee Small and Wee Tiny were playing a board game together. It didn't quite work as Wee Small can't read, and Wee Tiny can't play because she loses the pieces, sits on the board, complains when it is not her go, and wanders off sometimes (as you do when you are very tiny.)

- neither of them like to lose.

Let's skip over that part and get to the bit about packing up the game.
Which neither of them did.

This is how it went; Wee Small stopped The Little One as she walked past. The Little One had not participated in the game at all, yet to Wee Small's reasoning The Little One (being the eldest) should be the one to pack it up as she knew where the game went on the shelf, whereas Wee Small (being small) did not.

The Little One reasoned that she had nothing to do with it and wasn't going to put it away. An argument began.

Let's skip that part.

I think we all know that I packed up the game.

Let's skip that part.

Thursday, September 29, 2011

Non-stop thrills and spills

The Tummy Channel is back!

Tummy Mountain now sends it's signal from even further away from the bright lights and big smoke than ever before. The mountain is rounder and steeper. The croaking frogs are definitely louder.

And yet despite distance and obscurity, The Tummy Channel is still the Number One Broadcaster of the Love of Jumping Up and Down on the Couch!

A big hello to all our followers of the extreme sport of Couch Jumping wherever they may be in this wide wide world.

Yes, even as I write this post I can hear a lot of the kind of giggling and crashing noises that our premium athletes typically make when warming up for a Serious Championship Bout of Leaping on the Sofa.

In fact, this picture has just hit the Tummy News desk right now:

Yes fellow sport lovers, you can be assured that this station, the only one using State of the Art TummyVision, will bring you the latest and greatest exploits and adventures of the little ones as they occur!

Bye Now!

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

We interrupt this program... bring you this important announcement.

The little ones and I have decided to move from one side of tummy mountain ALL THE WAY OVER to the other side of tummy mountain!

Our normal irregular broadcast will resume ...errr....soonish.

Monday, September 12, 2011


One day I took the little ones on a picnic by a beautiful stretch of water. I had all the yummy snacks, and all the food that the little ones would eat as well, but I forgot the picnic blanket!

"Well that was dumb!" I said all annoyed with myself.
Wee Small looked up at me with her eyes full of concern and said "but you are not dumb!"
"Ha!" I snorted cynically, "I can assure you I have made plenty of dumb mistakes!"
"But those are just mistakes." she reassured me.

How right she is to separate the two. I felt much better.

Friday, September 2, 2011

time flies

Wee Small just told me that she hasn't worn a hat for twenty years.

Sunday, August 28, 2011


Wee Small has a wobbly tooth.
She wobbles and wobbles and wobbles the tooth.
"Look at my wobbly tooth!" she tells me excitedly.

I can't look. It makes my stomach queasy to watch that tooth wobbling back and forth like a small white door opening and shutting.

"How does the Tooth Fairy know whose teeth have fallen out?" asks Wee Small, with her fingers in her mouth at the same time.
"Well...errr...." I begin uncertainly "Each time a child wobbles a tooth back and forth it rings a wee bell in the Tooth Fairy's castle. So she gets a bit of time to check the address and prepare."

Wee Small's eyes open in wonder and a bit of thinking goes on in her wee head.
She starts wobbling the tooth with renewed vigour. Making me queasier, and wishing I hadn't said that. Wee Small must be making sure the Tooth Fairy get's the address just right.

I don't know why, but I am sure that tooth is tolling like a big deep bell in her castle and keeping the tooth fairy awake.

Thursday, August 25, 2011

mysterious messages

Today the little ones received a secret message in the mail. It seems to be from Secret Agent Etsy.

Clearly there is a mission afoot. The little ones donned the appropriate attire with haste to dramatic music!

little ones in disguise!

Then the little ones read the secret message.
"It says xnmjpplgh gjkk rgeeui" said Wee Tiny,
"It is a secret code." said Wee Golden
"Do I get a chocolate ice cream?" asked Wee Tiny
"Yes,'" said Wee Small

The little ones spent the next ten minutes hunting for clues under rocks, in trees and then {with the help of The Little One (being the eldest)} they found the chocolate ice cream in the freezer!

The little ones were quite happy with their success on this secret mission. I, however am baffled about what it all means. What is it all about?

Sunday, August 21, 2011


I have the sniffles. I want to lie on the couch and do nothing.

Wee Golden has wandered up to tummy mountain again and he has this to say about himself;

"My power is a wolf and my power is I can do a anything," says Wee Golden
"Well that is the best power to have," I reply.

I hope being able to do anything means he can take my sniffles away, you know, in the cause of good and all that.

Thursday, August 18, 2011


Wee Tiny was sleeping when she roused herself, looked around blearily and said "butterflies."

She then lay back down and went back to sleep.

A few minutes later she sat up and said "butterflies" again.

But this time she did not lie down and go back to sleep.

So I said "yes, butterflies."

Wee Tiny seemed satisfied and went back to sleep.

Sunday, August 7, 2011

here we go again

Well I suppose you can say here is a new ending to an age old story. Or maybe a more accurate ending.

"Is it ready yet?"
"When will it be ready?"
"Not now."
"Will it be ready soon?"
"Yes, soon."
"Is soon now?"
"No, soon is not now."
"So it is not soon?"
"No, it is not soon yet."
"Why isn't it ready?! I have been very impatient!"

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

...and another thing

Wee Golden had a few more things to say;

"I am saving up for the one thousand dollars," said Wee Golden
"Really," I responded "What are you going to buy?"
"Six houses and a pony."
"Hmmm..." said I, not really sure what to say to that.
"Yes." continued Wee Golden, "I'll give you the pony."
"Why thank you, but where would I keep a pony?"
Wee Golden thought for a moment, had a look around, and then he told me.
"In a gate." he said
"A gate? I want to keep it in the house."
"You can't do that!" said Wee Golden with a look of concern on his wee cherubic face.
"Well why not?" said I.
"Because when you are asleep it will lick your face."

Monday, July 25, 2011


Wee Golden wandered up to tummy mountain today. There must have been a lot on his mind as he went straight into some very deep existential analysis about life, and indeed death.

This is what he had to say;

"When you die and go up to heaven, the heaven guy shoots you in the stomach."
"Why?" I asked
"Because he is a mean and selfish guy," stated Wee Golden quite matter of factly.
"And they speak like this; 'jukka hukka chooka gabbah wukka choogah chukkah.'"
"errr.." I repeated
"And they eat people."
"They don't have any food." said Wee Golden, "Heaven is a bad planet."
"Ahh. And so what happens when you die?" I asked
"You always go up to heaven. I think they have a sucking machine."

Well apart from being startled I thought all of that is a new angle I haven't heard before.

Monday, July 18, 2011

cause for celebration

Wee Golden had come to stay for a few days. I knew it was his birthday coming up so I asked Wee Golden when it was.

"My birthday is on the August of July."


Sunday, July 10, 2011

tying up loose ends

Wee Small and I were not very far from Tummy Mountain when a car drove by.

Wee Small piped up and said;

"The good thing is if that car ran over you, I could go and bury you somewhere. And I could walk home, because it is a short way home."

Wednesday, July 6, 2011


Wee Tiny had lost her wee handbag somewhere. It was full to the brim with her most precious things. We searched everywhere for her handbag.
It was the second time that she had lost it today.
Wee Small found it near the "jumpoline."
I tried to be gentle when I told Wee Tiny "You need to remember not to forget this bag."
Wee Small rushed to Wee Tiny's defense and told me "When you're tiny you don't think about stuff sometimes."

True. Big people don't think about stuff sometimes either.

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

is there a doctor in the house?

Little Hoot is having surgery. It seems that his wing is hanging off. Little Hoot is a little bit worried, but he shouldn't be. Wee Small informs me that Manatee will be performing the operation.

Manatee has apparently admitted that he hasn't performed any surgical tasks ever, but not to worry, he is a very good doctor.

Little Hoot is lying on the operation table. There are a lot of buzzing noises - these come from Wee Small's mouth (she is assisting Dr. Manatee with the operation). It seems Manatee is performing the operation using a knitting needle.

"Is that the right way to operate?" I ask.
"Yes," replies Wee Small. "Little Hoot can't feel anything. He is frozen solid."
"Err, well, lucky for him I suppose."
"Yes," continues Wee Small "Manatee is using those tweezers that doctors use. What are those tweezers called?"
"Err... tweezers?" I guess
"Well," says Wee Small "Manatee doesn't have any of those tweezers so he is using a peg."
"And Manatee is fixing hoot with the peg," she continues "...and he is also using the peg to get rid of Little Hoots fleas."
"He has fleas?!?!"
"Yes, lots of fleas. Look at all the big fleas that Manatee found."

Wee Small shows me some fluff.

"Ahh... " I reply with relief, "Well that must feel better for Little Hoot, but I thought he needed his wing fixed."
"We're not up to the Wing. We are up to the fleas. It's very serious. He needs to go into the squishing machine."
"The squishing machine?!?"
"Yes , he is a little thin. He needs to be nice and fat. This is going to hurt a lot."
"The squishing machine?" I repeated
"And NOW!" Wee Small shouts, "Manatee WILL FIX Hoot's wing in TEN SECONDS FLAT!"
"What happened to the squishing machine?" I repeat. Wee Small ignores this.
"La la la la la la LA LA" sings Wee Small, "la la la LA LA."

Little Hoot falls off the operating table and onto the floor. Wee Small is not happy about that. It seems that this will hinder Manatee's attempt to fix Little Hoot's wing in ten seconds flat.

"Okay! Let's do this properly now!" she states with a certain grim determination. Does that mean it wasn't being fixed properly before?

"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight..."

Wee Small realizes at this point that it is going to take Manatee more than ten seconds.

"...nine, NiiiNNE, um....,nnnnniiiiinnnne, um ....nnnnnnnnnnniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnnneeeeeee, nnnnnnnnnniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNnnnnnnnnnnneeeeeeee, nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnNNNNNNNNNnnnnnnnniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIiiiiiiiiiiiiiiIIIIIIIIIIIIIIiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnNnNNNnNnNnNnNnNnNNnnNnNnnnnNNNNNNNNNNNNnnnnnnnnnnnneeeeeeeeeeeee!"

Wee Small is running out of breath making that 9th second last for minutes.

And at this point of the operation I was called away urgently to perform some more mundane duties, and missed the thrilling conclusion. Later on I asked Wee Small how did it go.

"Oh Little Hoot was alright," she remarks casually, "except that he fainted."
"Was it the shrinking machine?" I asked. I just can't let that go.
"No! It was because he had just had his wing stitched up." replied Wee Small "And Dr. Manatee said he had to stay in bed for three days or he'd get angry with Hoot."

I am pretty certain that Little Hoot did not follow Dr. Manatee's advice. I don't think it matters much as Dr. Manatee is a quack.

Saturday, June 25, 2011

Mistaken identity

One day whilst preparing a roast dinner I sensed that something was not right, that someone was unhappy.

Call it intuition.
I looked to see who was upset.

It was Manatee.

He wasn't moving, but he gazed at me with one fierce eye to indicate that he was displeased with the roast dinner and in particular what I was about to do to a sweet potato.

One look at the sweet potato and it was obvious.

I apologized immediately to Manatee and gave him the sweet potato. He didn't say anything but I could tell he was relieved.

Moments later I saw them outside playing together.

It seems Manatee thinks of the sweet potato as another manatee - perhaps a little brother or a friend.

Well I suppose I could roast some turnips instead.

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

overdue introductions

Wee Small likes to spend all of her time barefoot. Her toes need to be in constant touch with the earth. However, it is winter on tummy mountain, which means sometimes I insist on shoes and socks. The kind without holes.

And sometimes we have to buy new socks.

The Little One (being the eldest) and Wee Small made Little Hoot out of Wee Small's new socks. They think I don't know that.

The Little One (being the eldest) made the body. And Wee Small did the eyes and wings.

introducing Little Hoot

I don't know where the little ones have put the other sock. They must have disposed of the evidence.

Thursday, June 9, 2011

Monday, May 16, 2011

the end of the world is nigh

Wee Small: What would happen if someone poured water on the sun. Would it go out?

Me: would have to be an awful lot of water...

Wee Small: But what if they left the hose on all day?


Tuesday, May 10, 2011

STOP PRESS: Little Ones Mix Stuff in a Bowl!

Today the little ones made the front page news by mixing many unknown ingredients in a bowl!

Millions of casual observers were spellbound by the mystery! Is it flour and water? Or is it, as I suspect, flour and egg and orange peel and dirt and sticks?

Is this a heart warming scene of small ones helping out?
Or is it one of those times where you spend hours cleaning up the mess?
Or both?
Will we ever know?

Thursday, May 5, 2011

STOP PRESS: In space nobody can hear you eating chocolate cake

Scientists and pop musicians of the past have been baffled for ages by that old question "Is there life on Mars?" - or even out in the galaxies somewhere, anywhere?

The tummy mountain space-agency (TuMS) has dedicated a considerable amount of time (in between playing and bathtime) and resources (who could believe that there was that much stickytape!?!) to succeed in confirming that there is life on Saturn.

Two tummynauts using Ladder v2.01 for their successful trip to Saturn.

Detractors of this historic mission have pointed out that the tummynauts did not originate from Saturn, and therefore the big questions are not answered. The tummy mountain space-agency (TuMS) has responded that those spoilsports are not invited to the party at our place, and therefore cannot have any ice cream cake or fizzy drink.

In a second best effort which really should be applauded, the American Museum of Natural History, while lacking the scissors, paper and stickytape of TuMS, have responded with their make believe fairy tale of outer space.

Anyone with the ladder building skills of the tummy mountain space agency can clearly conclude this is ridiculous.

Monday, May 2, 2011

The Blog of a Few Weeks Ago

Being of a not too highly organised nature, nor as thorough as the esteemed and privileged role of Tummy Mountain Chronicler deserves, I sometimes miss things, or watch things fly by in the afternoon as I sip on a cup of tea without realising what happened.

Such as being featured as "Blog of the Week" on I Speak Melsh. That was a few weeks ago. So now I would like to proudly say that Tummy Mountain is the blog of "A Few Weeks Ago."

It kind of feels like a few weeks ago around here anyway. Grass is a bit too long - may need the giant rabbit to trim it a bit.

Thursday, April 28, 2011

absence makes the heart grow fonder

Wee Small, arms spread out, ran up to me and hugged my knees. Her little face looked all the way up to my face, as she yelled at me happily;

"It's so good to see you! I haven't seen you for five minutes!"

Sunday, April 24, 2011

A pet is an essential part of childhood

Wee Small can whistle. A little breathy perhaps, but a whistle nonetheless.

I could hear her walking around outside whistling. She was whistling to her new pet.

And I could hear her say "Come on, come on Bumble"

Bumble is a bee.

"Come on bumble, let's go!"

I should add that Bumble is not too good at following when called.

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

the zoo

One day the little ones and I packed up all our stuff and went off to the zoo to see the baby elephant. He was very cute.

But this is not about him.

It is about a photo I took of a gorilla.

Being a parent, and in the interests of safety, I feel compelled to alert the little ones about the dangers of hanging upside-down off the roof, sticking forks into eyeballs, etc.

And sometimes I feel I am talking and talking while no-one is listening.

Sometimes I feel like this gorilla.

Okay, enough about being a parent.

Here is Mr. Snuffles:

Thursday, April 14, 2011


Those in immanent proximity to little ones for extended hours always appreciate a good nights sleep.

Mr. Possum loves to sleep too.

He sleeps all day, and then he likes to travel down the newly finished 8 lane possum super highway. He likes to do this at the hour that is technically referred to as " the dead of night."

I like to be scientific and accurate when composing these chronicles. So there are three stages in Mr. Possum's journey;

The first stage is on the aforementioned possum superhighway's on-ramp - a young freshly surfaced branch that reaches the roof. He is as noiseless as a ninja on that. This gives Mr. Possum the element of surprise.

Stage Two comprises of the sound of Mr. Possum's little scratchy feet scuttling over the roof. Stage Two is an underrated yet important process preceding Stage Three. It is what is called "the setup" - the little scratchy feet take the professional sleeper out of REM - dead to the world sleep, into post hypnotic dozing, and thus suggestible to any prompting. If it wasn't for the scratchings and scuttlings of Stage Two, then Stage Three could not occur.

Then comes "The Leap of Faith." There are people around here that argue "the leap" is a stage in itself. Purists like myself see it only as a transitional jump - a daring and huge one at that, but a jump all the same.

Stage Three is the precise moment the jump finishes. It is the shortest stage as our acrobatic aeronautical pre-flight possum lands with a resounding crash on a tin roof. The empty shed amplifies the sound, and (as the little ones have thoughtfully left the shed door open after playing in there) the amplified noise travels straight back towards me in Stage Two affected sleep where I wake up yelling in fright.

the alleged possum

The little ones, however, sleep peacefully through all of this. They wake up fresh and happy on a brand new day, all ready to play in the shed again.

Sunday, April 10, 2011

mysteries of nature

Scientists have been agog at a new species of Echidna (kind of hedgehog, kind of spiny ant-eater) that has been found rambling along, quietly enjoying itself on tummy mountain.

Scientists have named the new species "spikus potaticus"
It is unknown at this stage what this creature eats, where it dwells, or why it has been mysteriously undiscovered until now.

After much poking and prodding, Spikus Potaticus, sick of all the attention, bumbles off into the distance.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

new friends

Wee Tiny has some new friends.

They are her toes.

I didn't quite catch all their names, but she told me in her little voice "that one is Big Sister, and that one is Little Sister, and that one is Rose, and that one is Harmonica, and that one is..."

such lovely names

Saturday, March 26, 2011

It doesn't add up

Wee Small had a new present. A pink calculator. Or as Wee Small called it "a calcliator."
Wee Small loved it. Did I mention it was pink?

Wee Tiny also liked Wee Small's calcliator. But she thought it was a phone. Wee Tiny liked it so much she ran off with it and put it in her pink vinyl handbag of special things. Inside the handbag was a toy wombat, a magic wand, and now the calcliator. I should also mention that the handbag was filled to the brim with water.

In Wee Tiny's mind, the pink phone, aka calcliator, was the perfect matching accessory to her handbag.

Needless to say the calcliator did not receive any calls, or do basic subtraction, after immersion in water.

Monday, January 17, 2011

swan song

I have not heard the song of a swan.

I am however signalling that once more I must leave tummy mountain for a wee while. This should be the last time (thus swan metaphors) and I am hoping that when I return I will be able to hide somewhere up here (maybe behind the shed) where The Work won't find me. Then when The Work has passed by I will once more chronicle the adventures of the little ones.

Though, having said that there are a few adventures that the little ones have had that I am yet to write up, so hopefully those will be here soon.

It saddens me to know that when the little ones awake I will be gone for some weeks, I will miss them as I always do. Everyday they give me such joy and share with me their insights and secrets of their little world.

I can't wait to be back.

Sunday, January 16, 2011

name that tune

The Little One wanted me to play a song that she heard. She does not know if I have the song or if she heard it on the radio. She does not know the name of the song, the performer, the style of the music, or any lyric in the song to give me a clue, or any clues in general. Or even if I have heard it or have the song in my collection. Mere trivialities.

However she helps me by singing it to me;

The Little One: It goes like this " duuuhh...Nahhh, dah nuuuh". You know that one?
Me: Err, no err, do you know who sang it?
The Little One: No, but it goes "duhh nah, Daaaahh nahHH!"
Me: Err no. All I know is that you say it goes "da nah, da nah!"
The Little One: Yes that's it! " Dah naah, daah naahhhh." What is that song?
Me: Well how would I know!??
The Little One: But it goes "da nah, da nah"

The Little One is getting upset with me. It is as though I am deliberately provoking her by not knowing the song. Wee Small decides to help. She adds something which she thinks has been missing in clarifying what the song actually is.

Wee Small: It goes like this " duuuhh...Nahhh, dah nuuuh."
The Little One: No it doesn't, it goes "daaah NNANHHH, DDDAHHH, naaahhh"
Wee Small: No it doesn't it goes "daaah NNANHHH, DDDAHHH, naaahhh"
The Little One: No it doesn't...

It seems there is a disagreement on how it goes. This continues until Wee Tiny breaks it up.

Wee Tiny: Pony!

Wee Tiny is very small.

We left it at that until The Little One remembered some of the words and began singing it:

The Little One: "Welcome to the good ship California"

Ah the Good Ship California! Well that clears that up.


Saturday, January 8, 2011

this modern world deserves a modern attitude

One may be forgiven in thinking that the little ones live a pastoral existence, unaware of the impact of technology. However occasional forays away from tummy mountain expose the small ones to the ways and processes of systems in densely urbanized areas.

They absorb it, and then months later it all resurfaces in their own ideas and creations.

Thus, going outside one day I encountered the latest in tummy mountain technology, or TummyTech™ as I like to think of it. Obviously this is a ticket machine or dispenser, as The Little One (being the eldest) has clearly written on the front surface (and only surface) of the device.

I don't understand a few things;

1.) What kind of tickets does it dispense?
2.) What were we doing happily for free that now requires payment?
3.) What are the ominous 23.4 markings? Are they something to do with a secret society?
4.) Have we finally been found by "The Man" ?
5.) Is this the end of the carefree life of tummy mountain?


Saturday, January 1, 2011

the world spinning in space

A new year on tummy mountain.

We saw the old year off by making a wee bush walk to a little beach where one can see the distant fireworks from a place known as "civilisation."

On the beach there was a lot of running around to be had, and some swimming. There was also "looking at crabs" and collecting of seaweed.

Wee Tiny decided that all the sand on the beach could be heaped up onto the picnic blanket rendering it unusable.

She liked that.

Then all the fireworks and loud explosions began.
She did not like that. Not at all.

Fireworks are just not the same when you are very small.