Sunday, 27 February 2011

The Secret Door Part 2

Did you know that Fairy Godparents can get sick? Well, it's true since we are half mortal these human traits do tend to strike us down every now and again.

You should see the state of me. I've completely lost my sparkle and my wand has gone all bendy. I just hope nobody needs me for anything important over the next day or so or I fear my magic may go askew.

I was so wanting to update you on the adventures of little Molly and the secret door... maybe I can coax a few words onto the virtual page.... I'll see what I can do... The picture above won't make much sense until you get right to the end!


Molly awoke the next morning to a familiar sound. Pitter patter went the rain bouncing its drum beat on window ledges and foliage. Sighing she snuggled back under the duvet with Teddy and Bobo the Monkey and prayed for sun.

Just as she was dozing and dreaming of rock pools and paddling, her Mother burst into the room and urged her daughter out of bed. The weather would perk up later she promised, and in the meantime they could just relax here and read, paint or just explore. Molly peered at the glowering clouds and doubted it somewhat, even with her most optimistic glass half full face on! She perused her wardrobe and picked the most appropriate clothing - not wetsuit, but rainforest t-shirt! Laughing at her little dig at the weather, she also grabbed her froggie umbrella and decided to venture out and explore the dripping garden. Who knew, she might bump into.

Dancing through the puddles a few minutes later, she felt something bump against her leg. What on earth was in her pocket? Molly reached down and pulled out the mysterious key. In all the excitement of coming away, she had forgotten all about it. How strange that it had worked its way into the pocket of her jeans. She shoved it back and continued her exploration, stopping by the gate to the woodland. It did look very wet in there, but rather beckoning too. A tiny portion of sun peeking through the clouds was lighting up the water droplets like Christmas, and was that a rabbit's bobtail she saw disappearing into the bushes?

Molly glanced around quickly to be sure her Mother wasn't watching before diving in and running through the wet foliage laughing excitedly. She followed paths that led nowhere but back on themselves until she spied through the trees the other side of the mysterious door. Fighting her way through brambles and creepers she scrambled her way to stand in front of its magnificence. It certainly seemed strange to have such a noble-looking door leading nowhere in particular. There wasn't even a sign of a path leading away from it this side with ancient oaks and beech trees jostling for space forming a protective arc around the entrance.

Molly pulled the key from her pocket and wondered... She ran her hands over the smooth wood but there appeared to be no key hole within which to place an ancient treasure chest key! Shrugging she scrambled back through the woods in answer to her Mother's call for breakfast.


Swinging through the garden later alongside her partner in crime Bobo Monkey (nice and dry strapped inside her raincoat), Molly once more found herself in front of the 'secret door' as she was now calling it. Only on this side - there was a lock - and what is more it looked like someone had polished it as the brass shined brightly enough to reflect Molly's curious gaze.

She stood for a moment thinking... but only a moment because this was a Molly with impetuous as her middle name... Taking the key from her pocket she reached forward and gently eased it into the lock. It slid in effortlessly, but would it turn?

(Of course it turned! You knew that readers didn't you? The teller of this tale is after all a Fairy Godmother - I'm sure you would expect nothing less!).

Molly was bursting with excitement. Not at the prospect of opening the door - for she knew after all what was on the other side, but with the magic of the event. How on earth had his key come to be in her possession? Who put in the drawer with her sunhat and then wiggled it into the pocket of her jeans? It was a mystery with a capital M.

With an excitable leap Molly gave a great shove to push the door past all the weeds and brambles she knew to be growing the other side. She was somewhat surprised therefore when the door swung effortlessly on oiled hinges and she fell flat on her face!

Picking herself up, Molly quickly realised that she wasn't in Cornwall anymore (she was a big fan of The Wizard of Oz, in case you are wondering!). In fact, as she surveyed the dripping jungle around her and heard the cries of parrots, the slither of snakes and the squawk of goodness knows what, she had an awful suspicion that her dream of visiting the Amazonian rainforest had come true a little sooner than she had expected.

Under her raincoat Bobo wriggled desperate to get out and see what was happening.

Hold on... Bobo wriggled? The stuffed toy monkey Bobo?

If Molly was already dumbstruck by her surroundings, then the sight of her toy monkey wriggling out of his waterproof confines was almost enough to send her screaming back through the door - but  hey, this is Molly and I've already shared that she's made of sterner stuff!

"Come on then" said Bobo with a cheeky wink to the startled Molly. Let's go and explore....

To be continued...

In response to the prompt 'exotic' on Take a Word.

Sunday, 20 February 2011

The secret door

I feel the need for a holiday my dear readers. Where shall I go? I've done Narnia and Neverland. Far, Far Away is just well... too far away. Maybe something a little closer to home? I have a little friend who told me a story about a rather enchanting place nestling in a Cornish cove. Maybe we'll go there... What do you think?


Molly began packing her bags for her holiday - or at least that's what her Mother was calling it. Molly wasn't so sure. Last time they'd been to Cornwall all it had done was rain and the closest she'd got to playing on sandy beaches was looking wistfully at them through the gaps she'd made in the steamed up car windows.

She threw her much-loved teddy, pencils and books onto the top of the suitcase and made ready to close it. Smiling she remembered something she hadn't packed which her Mum had told her to. Her sunhat! Some chance! As she rummaged through the drawer, her hand clasped something cold and smooth. Puzzled she pulled the object out. It was a very large, very old-looking key - the sort that would open castle doors or big treasure chests. Where had it come from? She'd certainly never seen it before. On the end of the key was tied a red velvet ribbon from which a tattered cardboard tag hung.

Molly forgot all about her sunhat and concentrated on fathoming the old letters making up the scratchy words on the tag...

Turn the key inside the lock
Believe and then wind back the clock

How mysterious. Molly heard her mother coming up the stairs. Something told her that she wouldn't approve of strange pieces of hardware appearing out of thin air. So she grabbed both sunhat and key, flung them in the suitcase and snapped the lock shut just as her mother came through the door.

A day later and their car scrunched up an gravel driveway bordered by towering rhodedendrons. The sun was trying to peek through a watery sky and the trees dripped pitter patt on the roof of their car. Molly sank down into her seat ready to despair. That is until they turned the final bend in the drive and she saw where they would be spending the next two weeks...

Trelawney Manor was a rambling ramshackle dream gone wild. The old house, now converted into holiday lets looked about as full of adventure as a child of ten could cope with. There most certainly had to be ghosts and look at all those gardens surrounding the place with hundreds of Rhodendrons to make dens in... and was that a hay loft and did those steps lead down to the sea and wow, what was that fancy door doing in the middle of a garden wall.. Molly's mind raced with such excitement that she ignored the rain completely as she charged about trying to explore the entire place in her first five minutes.

She may have managed it had she not run straight into a tiny little lady coming round the corner of the house. At first Molly thought she had knocked the woman over for she staggered backwards but luckily seemed to recover and like a puppet on strings bounced back to her feet. Molly was a little scared and feared she had caused trouble enough to prevent further adventures already, but the lady just smiled and looked her right in the eye.

"You arrived at last" she whispered and gave a little wink.

 "Hello," said Molly doing her best to be polite. "Do you live here?"

"Here and there" replied the soft voice rather enigmatically waving in a manner that took in most of Cornwall. Molly scuffed her shoes and took the opportunity to enquire what was through the strange door and on the other side of the wall.

"Well, my dear" came the reply. "That be two questions really, so I'll do my best to answer. That door hasn't opened for at least 100 years for nobody has seen the key for that long. The other side of the wall is woodland stretching down to the sea - see the trees waving at you. You can get to the woods by following the wall down to the gateway. To get what's through the door, you'll need the key..."

Molly looked at the trees waving at her from behind the wall AND door. Shrugging at the silly ramblings of the old lady she turned and retraced her steps as her Mother called her from the front of the house. She looked back to say sorry once more to the old lady but she had gone - she must be more sprightly than she looks thought Molly.

Still, that door needed a more thorough examination - from both sides - and Molly knew she was just the girl to do it...

To be continued...

Saturday, 19 February 2011

OWOH winner

Wistle and I have waved our wands over so many delightful comments. We are so thrilled that you all came to visit.

And the winner is...

M Bloom

Sunday, 13 February 2011

What is Romance?

You could say that Fairy Godparents were invented for Romance and indeed we are all in fact required to major in this discipline within our studies. But I'd like to invite you to stop for a while and think about what Romance really means to you. What does true love look like? Cinderella wanted her Prince and all the trappings that came with him, but there are only so many fairytale castles to go around... Does a Prince or Princess have to come with a crown on their head, face on a banknote and piles of gold and jewels in the coffers? Of course not!

Everyone's special someone is out there! It's my job to help my charges realise when they have found theirs and sometimes just to give them a gentle push in the right direction. The trouble is that so few people these days trust their heart's murmerings. They are too busy listening to the opinions of others and, worse still, those nagging little nuisances 'self doubt' and 'insecurity'. It makes my job a whole lot harder I can tell you.

Please remember that 'the one' for you may not resemble the beautiful face you dream of that writes daily love poems and sprinkles rose petals in their wake. They are instead the one who will help you realise your potential - you'll know them when you see them, for they will ride in on a white charger of commitment, fight off the dragons of self-doubt and build you a castle of understanding strengthened with love from the foundations up.

Happy Valentine's Day tomorrow my sweets... (remember, flowers aren't necessary, but they are still rather nice!!)


Friday, 11 February 2011

The truth about glass slippers

At last I find a moment to begin some proper stories. It's hard to know which tale merits first telling so I thought I would start with the story about a Fairy Godmother you are all no doubt very familiar with. I am speaking of course of the most famous of all - that little lady who is known for turning pumpkins into carriages and rodents into footmen. It is, of course Aurelia, better known perhaps as Cinderella's Fairy Godmother.

Aurelia was way before my time and has long since hung up her wand and disappeared into retirement. Still, she remains the stuff of legends to us more modern Fairy Godmothers. It's probably as well that her whereabouts remain a secret for I fear she would be beseiged by us female 'young 'uns' pestering her for access to the spell that turns mice into men (we are less bothered about pumpkins and carriages for obvious reasons!).

I have tried to perform both spells but always failed dismally. I can turn a toy Ferrari into a real one though. The young man I conjured up that one for was left a little disappointed since the life size version unfortunately lacked the engine he was expecting. What can I say? He wished for the replica to be bigger and that's what he got. Be careful what you wish for is my word of advice in this instance.

This thought takes me nicely back to Cinderella and her particular story. Cinderella was a careful wisher. She was also gifted with one of the most talented Fairy Godmothers that ever flew the earth which helped a little.

There's a few facts I would like to put straight about the story though. Mainly concerning glass slippers. Now, the tale goes that after Cinderella fled the Ballroom at midnight losing one of her shoes in the process, the poor Prince then spent weeks searching in vain for the lady whose foot fit the size 4 perfectly.

Now, every Fairy Godmother has their faults and let's face it even Aurelia had to have one. Shoes made of glass? Can you seriously think of anything more uncomfortable? Cinderella didn't lose her slipper, she kicked it off. The poor girl's feet were in agony. The only reason she didn't 'lose' the other one was because it was too small for her and her feet had swollen in protest. She had to prize it off with soap later poor lass.

 So, put yourself in Cinderella's position. There she was sat at home in her rags the following morning, having met the man of her dreams (and by all accounts he really was rather lovely), and she hears from the town gossips that he's out looking for her. Apparently, he carries a shoe that fits only her (just as well it wasn't the other one, because as we've already learnt that wasn't so snug). What would you do?

Would you wait for him to finally get around to your home, when there was always the risk that your wicked Stepmother and sisters would lock you in the scullery? I mean, what if by complete fluke another pretty young lass fit that shoe before you. What would you do then?

No, our Cinderella's dreams had all but come true. She wasn't going to fall at this last hurdle. She would have gone out and claimed her man. Except, her poor feet... they were blistered beyond recognition from those pesky glass slippers. Great swellings protruded from her toes and her poor heel was bloody and sore. There was no way she would ever fit back in that shoe!

What was a girl to do? How could she present such vile looking appendages?Was all lost for Cinderalla?

Of course not! Honestly, how daft do you think the pair of them were? We're talking one of the most lasting fairy tales of all time here. Nope, she simply waited for the Prince to pop round and return her shoe - to the address she'd thoughtfully given him at 11.55pm the previous night, quite secure in the knowledge that having gazed at her faced lovingly for 4 hours the previous evening he just might recognise her again. He was also rather curious as to what on earth possessed such an intelligent girl to go out in a pair of shoes made from glass....

And then of course... they all lived happily ever after...

Ah, such a lovely story. I only wish life turned out so well for everyone for, despite our best intentions, sometimes Fairy Godparents don't quite get it right... Do visit again soon and I'll share why...

Wednesday, 9 February 2011

Tooth fairy trinkets

Gosh I am flabbergasted, what a start to my blog. 8 followers already and so many charming comments. Well it brings a smile to the face of this Fairy Godmother that there are so many believers. I just know that we are going to have fun together, for I have so many stories to tell you - I barely know where to start.

In fact, I still can't begin... You see I promised someone a small favour. No sooner had I hit publish on my first post yesterday than the world of mythical creatures came alive and began to bombard me with helpful(?) advice and requests to write about them (they are such a vain lot).

The most vociferous of which was Wistle, a tooth fairy. She can talk the hind legs off a unicorn that one and I was forced to give in just for a moment's peace. She has a request to make of her little human friends on behalf of herself and her many thousands of hard-worked colleagues (she made me add that last bit in!).

You see, every night they fly hundreds of miles, often in the foulest of weather to carry their tiny teeth treasures back to their workshop. They finally arrive at each destination and creep into slumbering bedrooms weighed down by coins at least ten times their bodyweight. Exhausted they sigh with relief that they have at last reached their destination, but can they relax? Why no dear Readers no. Next they have to search for said tooth under a pillow weighed down by a sleepy head. Imagine - a tiny piece of enamel under a soft mountain of polyester (they prefer feathers for future reference - although the Eider Duck will remain eternally grateful for that particular invention).

"Why, oh why?" she asks plaintively, must children hide their teeth so? Such treasure should be kept in the manner to which it has become accustomed. She has presented me with this box within which she entreats you to place your fallen tooth. It will be much easier to find she insists - especially if placed on a bedside table.

Before she left she whispered to me that a great event was happening in Bloglandia - a sharing of gifts, an opening of hearts and creativity. She asked that I might present this tooth fairy box to a lucky winner. Who am I to say no to such a request.

All you have to do is leave Wistle or me a message right here and on Feb 18th we'll wave our magic wands and conjure up a lucky winner. You can see all the other magical people who are entering here. Oh yes, there'll be something to put the box in too - for it is very tiny. It's a Fairy Godmother bag - standard issue, but nonetheless really quite smart. Strictly speaking I'm not supposed to give them out to mere mortals, but I won't tell if you don't!

Now I've done my duty by the tooth fairy population, perhaps I might be allowed to get on with my own stories...

Tuesday, 8 February 2011

Do you believe?

“Know you what it is to be a child? It is to be something very different from
the man of today. It is to have a spirit yet streaming from the waters of
baptism; it is to believe in love, to believe in loveliness, to believe in
belief; it is to be so little that the elves can reach to whisper in your ear;
it is to turn pumpkins into coaches, and mice into horses, lowness into
loftiness, and nothing into everything, for each child has its fairy godmother
in its own soul.”
Francis Thompson

Do you believe in magic and fairy tales? I sincerely hope so since otherwise it negates the whole purpose of my existence. Naturally, over the years some embellishment of stories have taken place. I mean, of course Beauty didn't sleep for 100 years; that would have been just ridiculous and there were only two dwarves living in the woods with Snow White, but hey put these tales in the hands of writers and they prefer never to let the truth get in the way of a good tale.

I'm sure you're probably wondering who I am and what I'm doing floating around in cyberspace sharing my secrets. Well, I guess that's just what I am... a secret.... I'm a fairy Godmother (there are Fairy Godfathers too, but they aren't as pretty). Contrary to what grown-ups and cynical-old-before-their-years toddlers think, I do actually exist. There are quite a few of us to be honest, though I may be the only one with a blog (you'd be surprised how many can't actually read, let alone work a computer!).

You will most certainly have met one of my kind for we live among you weaving our magic wherever needed. Sometimes we'll be recruiting our charges into their dream jobs through our consultancies. Or we'll show around you the house you always longed to buy. We might even sit on the judging panel of a talent show (those roles tend to attract the attention-seeking among us eh Mr C?). We might even be supporting you through the tabloids, but beware if your Fairy Godparent is a journalist for they tend to lean heavily towards demon and as quickly as they giveth they can take away...

But I digress. More on this in the future my lovelies. I will explain how it all works. Where we come from. What we do, how we do it and why.

I will be back soon.