Granny
Meets a Crocodile called Snappy Tom.
One
sunny day I took a long, long trip to a land in the very North of Australia. First I took a taxi, then I took a train,
then I took another taxi until I got to the airport. All the planes live there, and there was one
waiting to take me to the hot and moist land where the crocodiles live.
I had never met a crocodile before and I had heard they were scary. CRIKEY! Are they scary? Have you seen those teeth? It seems like a third of the animal is teeth – really sharp ones too. They live in Billabongs, which are big pools in the rivers.
So there was a smile in the water edged with teeth, and a bit of body on the back. Two eyes popped up to watch a man and his dog playing fetch with sticks, on the bank. SNAPPY TOM for that was his name, saw me watching and sank back into the water. All that was left was a trail of bubbles on the water among the lily plants.
Good croc, I thought, surely he would not fancy eating that nice little dog, that had done no harm to anyone. The water was all peaceful as I looked round – such a beautiful scene, only a log floating down the waterway. WAS it a log? Or was it a croc? A logodile? or a crocodile?
Suddenly I realized it was not a floating log at all, but it was Snappy Tom moving very fast through the water towards the dog. It was Snappy Tom. I screamed “GET OUT OF THE WAY LITTLE DOG” He heard me and dropped the stick he was carrying and RAN!
Snappy Tom skidded to a halt on the beach his jaws snapping on …..NOTHING!
“Oh Snappy” said I, “you weren’t going to eat that little dog were you?”
“No” he said, “I was just going to kiss it!” Which in my opinion, is one of those stupid things you say when you know you’re in the wrong.
“Now Snappy”, said I (from the safety of the bank) “You must promise to leave those nice little animals alone. Go away and eat fish.”
So he blushed slightly, which is difficult to do, when you are a green crocodile; and promised he would behave himself in future.
With that I took a taxi to the airport, a plane to go most of the way, then a train, then another taxi until I got to my own front door. Goodnight.
I had never met a crocodile before and I had heard they were scary. CRIKEY! Are they scary? Have you seen those teeth? It seems like a third of the animal is teeth – really sharp ones too. They live in Billabongs, which are big pools in the rivers.
So there was a smile in the water edged with teeth, and a bit of body on the back. Two eyes popped up to watch a man and his dog playing fetch with sticks, on the bank. SNAPPY TOM for that was his name, saw me watching and sank back into the water. All that was left was a trail of bubbles on the water among the lily plants.
Good croc, I thought, surely he would not fancy eating that nice little dog, that had done no harm to anyone. The water was all peaceful as I looked round – such a beautiful scene, only a log floating down the waterway. WAS it a log? Or was it a croc? A logodile? or a crocodile?
Suddenly I realized it was not a floating log at all, but it was Snappy Tom moving very fast through the water towards the dog. It was Snappy Tom. I screamed “GET OUT OF THE WAY LITTLE DOG” He heard me and dropped the stick he was carrying and RAN!
Snappy Tom skidded to a halt on the beach his jaws snapping on …..NOTHING!
“Oh Snappy” said I, “you weren’t going to eat that little dog were you?”
“No” he said, “I was just going to kiss it!” Which in my opinion, is one of those stupid things you say when you know you’re in the wrong.
“Now Snappy”, said I (from the safety of the bank) “You must promise to leave those nice little animals alone. Go away and eat fish.”
So he blushed slightly, which is difficult to do, when you are a green crocodile; and promised he would behave himself in future.
With that I took a taxi to the airport, a plane to go most of the way, then a train, then another taxi until I got to my own front door. Goodnight.
RORY’S
BABY QUILT. Called ‘THE LOVE OF THREE
WOMEN’
Mixed Techniques in quilting, patchwork, and
appliqué.
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By
making this quilt I had hoped to give a newborn the enjoyment of colour, and
texture. It was also a deliberate
attempt to get the baby’s subconscious attuned to his own heredity before
Disney and his ilk, took over. A vain
hope these days, but hey! my British grandchild loves The Wiggles.
The
name came about because of the embroidery threads box which had first belonged
to my Grandmother. It had silver doileys
across the surface, and a big blue silk bow to one side, chocolate box fashion. Inside was a tangle of real silk, rayon and
cotton embroidery threads. The real silk
ones were made pre-WW11 in soft pastel shades, often quite fragile and faded
with age. They had belonged to my
Grandmother Eliza. The rayon and cotton
ones were bought by my Mother Kathleen, in bolder shades, when austerity
measures made a splash of colour highly desirable. Dextrous fingers could add
glamour to collars, cuffs and bodices. From
this store, she also taught me, and I learned patience untangling the prettier
colours.
In
this evocative tangle the predominant colour was pink, both women having only
girl children. I had two boys, but they
were never to know that. By stitching
generously from their store I knew their love would have crossed over the
generations to this vibrant, red-haired baby boy. Love knows no boundaries.
Techniques.
Mixing
techniques in your quilting is fairly easy these days with the help of
Vliesofix, a kind of paper-backed web that you ironed onto the back of a
patterned fabric. You can then cut out
the motifs, peel the paper off and iron the motifs in place. I would also stitch the edges either by
machine, or, as in this case, Buttonhole stitch. The chevron section is simple patchwork
constructed as a band. The centre
section is Northumbrian quilting which requires simple templates of traditional
design.
~Carole Garland~
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