Home on the range…….(whilst cooking the wolf)

haunted house                                                   happy-house

Home conjures up so many images. Screaming children (one holding the other in a choke hold on the staircase) husbands (no hon, I think I would have remembered asking for 38,000 rolls of toilet paper) the mother in law (would Sauron like another coffee?). Sweet, cherished moments that remind me in my next life I’m opting for the dung beetle and as much manure as I can rejoice in.

Authors to evoke memories of home and hearth. Who can forget the perennial favourite ‘The Three Little Pigs?  Nick Sharrat’s and Stephen Tucker’s rendition of this story is succinct and easy to read with bold, bright pictures in primary colours. It’s a lift-the-flap fairy tale and as little fingers love opening things up, then closing them, and maybe opening up again, this book is sure to be a crowd pleaser. The story paints the wolf as this sloppy, badly dressed, sure to stay single bachelor who obviously doesn’t shop and lives on takeout. Well, obviously the local kebab place doesn’t deliver because the wolf orders pig to go. This story has always tickled my fancy because I remember thinking ‘what kind of porcine moron would you be building your house in sticks or straw, knowing a huge, malacca wolf is roaming the neighbourhood? Secretly, I was pleased the two pigs got snaffled. Even the brick builder should have smartened up his act. Something in rendered earth with federation style verandahs maybe? The wolf could have huffed a bit then settled down for a lightly tossed pasta, dressed in truffle soaked olive oil and a touch of pimento. Unfortunately, at the story’s conclusion, he is lightly stewed with carrots and onions complimented with fava beans and a nice bottle of chianti.

three little pigs   These pigs are walking BLT’S.

I ‘m going to enlarge to A3 size the book cover of Ursula Dubosarsky and Andrew Joyner’s ‘Too Many Elephants in this House‘ and stick it on the fridge. This will remind me to forgo the chocolate and enjoy the many scrumptious offerings of soy. Mmmmm….. soy. The main character in this book is a little boy called Eric whose house is overrun by elephants. The book reads like my C.V:

This elephant-

  • cooks and forces young humans to eat soy mince and quinoa crunch bars
  • reminds young humans to brush their teeth and not spit the toothpaste at each other
  • pretends to play hide and seek but is really stretched out on bed reading ‘Whatever a duke desires’.
  • lets young humans bathe themselves in spa bath and consequently has melt down when a whole bottle of bubble bath generates enough bubbles to cover the land mass of Ethiopia.

Okay, the books myriad (cornucopia, plethora, pod, murder, bushel) of elephants may be a bit more sedate but they still jiggle, jostle, tumble and twirl throughout the story. The illustrations seem to have a 1950’s feel to them. They reminded me of The Jetsons and Richard Scarrey’s books, lots of tweed and tartan with the odd leather suitcase.

elephants  Just a reminder that you can never have to many pachyderms 

I loved Jackie’s French’s and Sue deGennaro’s The Hairy Nosed Wombats.  There were only 176 Hairy Nosed wombats left in the world. It’s raining bald faced wombats but the Northern Hairy nosed is feeling the pinch and must seek dry, happy, warm and female abundant pasture land in order to ensure the proliferation of ‘wild, wispy babies’. (If I had a dollar every time I heard that line). ‘Five big, brave boys set out’. Ha!! My husband can’t find his way out of the shopping centre yet five guys are setting off on a ‘wondrous, wombat adventure’. I surmise that they sat in Davo’s 1981 Datsun for three hours, eating Macca’s, then headed off to the beach to catch a few waves and ogle the local wildlife. The boys did eventually stagger into greener pastures only because the GPS, who they named Cherry, had a sexy voice and they felt compelled to listen to her.

This story is delightfully sweet and endearingly naughty. I like that the climax of the story is when THE GIRLS ARRIVED. (There does seem to be a rather inebriated wombat in the background when this happens but he stays single and just goes fishing a lot) The illustrations are as whimsical as the story, lots of paisley and hounds tooth on simple, fine line drawings. I enjoy a story were women give meaning to the arid, male life.

wombats Those Hairy Nosed Wombats are on a mission.

It’s time to do art and I thought we’d do house construction as a gentle reminder to our children that there are other homes they can go to.

Milk Carton Houses                   Fairy-Houses

1.    Choose a milk or juice cartoon and paint in bright colors. Leave a rectangle for the door. Let dry
2. Use the top of the cartoon for the chimney with cotton wool for smoke.
3.   Ask your young Cezanne’s to draw windows (all shapes) on a piece of paper and then glue on.
4. Cut out the door and paint a different colour. Find a button for the door knob.
5. Let the kids play house with dolls or whatever takes their fancy. (construct a small car port if they wish)

And while the kids are moving out, let us sing and do a little wiggle of pure joy. They’ll love it!!!!!!!  ( The house that their parents built, and paid for and came round and mowed the lawn at)


The House That Jack Built                                                           DOGS-THERE-WAS-A-HOUSE-THAT-JACK-BUILT

This is the house that Jack built!
This is the malt that lay in the house that Jack built.
This is the rat that ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.
This is the cat that killed the rat
That ate the malt that lay in the house that Jack built.
This is the dog that worried the cat
That killed the rat that ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.
This is the cow with the crumpled horn
That tossed the dog that worried the cat
That killed the rat that ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.
This is the maiden all forlorn

Seems to be a pig theme running through my blog…….

To Market

To market, to market,
To buy a fat pig,
Home again, home again,
Jiggety jig.
To market, to market,
To buy a fat hog,
Home again, home again,
Jiggety jog.
To market, to market
To buy a plum bun,
Home again, home again,
Market is done.

Just remember, home is where the heart is and also your shoes and your teflon frying pan. Never leave the frying pan. It will steer you through rough seas, rocky troughs and comes in handy when you decide to beat your partner within an inch of his life. Enough said.