Platypuss in Boots Bids Us Fond Au Revoir

Happy Saturday, folks.  Well, actually a bit of a sad Saturday here. 

As you may know, I’ve been re-posting material from Eberle’s wonderful but dormant blog Platypuss-in-Boots on alternate Saturdays, & in the normal course of blog events, today we’d feature one of these posts.  But, as you also know if you’re a regular reader, Eberle & I have now gone our separate ways in life; I’m making a new life in Portland, Oregon, while she’s transforming her life back in Idaho.  & the fact is, posting the Platypuss-in-Boots material was just becoming too sad for me.  I discussed this with Eberle, & she understood where I was coming from & was in full support of me stopping the posts.  Needless to say, it is great to be able to have friendly talks about things with her, despite the fact that we’ve taken these separate paths.

Now in practical terms, don’t forget: these posts all exist on the interwebs already & will continue to do so: you can read all the material on the original Platypuss-in-Boots  blog that Eberle created at this very link.  It’s great stuff: funny, enchanting & wildly imaginative. 

I’m not sure what will be taking the place of these posts yet—but stayed tuned, because there are a lot more fun features to come in the days ahead!

Mouse Fairies to the Rescue! Christmas Wedding Planned!

The most thrilling package arrived in the mail yesterday.

Among other treasures, it contained Glamora’s wedding cape and bouquet, prepared by the cunning hands of Mouse Fairies and their Beloved Queen Margot! There has never been more beautiful wedding finery, Glamora’s bridesmaid G.W. Moose assures us.

Bridesmaids do not have to be girls in BBL, and G.W. Moose is among those whom Glamora has chosen to share that honor. (Although G.W. are the initials of George Washington, they stand for Gee Whillikers in the case of G.W. Moose.) Amanda Every Otter will be officiating, and Boo Boo will give the bride away.

Piggles is Best Man and will also lead the dancing (you should have seen her pirouetting along with the Nutcracker Ballet last night!)

The bridesmaids have carried the wedding finery safely out of view and are preserving a strict code of secrecy on these important matters. They advise us to turn our attention to other tasks, such as decorating the wedding gazebo or helping Pinky write out the announcement. We want to state once again how much Platypuss-in-Boots owes to the Mouse Fairies. In the words of Polar Knight:

This locomotive new creation
Whistling out of Platypuss station
Would be nothing but a dream
Without Mouse Fairy steam.



The box contained other treasures – such as photos from the Mouse Fairy archives, going all the way back to the turn of the millennium! You will be hearing more about the history of these fascinating creatures on P-in-B.

Bink decided that some new words should be invented in honor of the Christmas wedding! So here's your invitation, complete with Bink's own words, hand-crafted especially for this occasion:

You are emfrappingly invited to the nupcoming wedding party in Big Bed Land on Christmas two days hencelish. Lambanarfest greetings!

P.S. If you’d like to offer a gift, please bring along an Arctic Snow Goose to participate in the Honking Song that will wake all of Big Bed Land early Christmas morning!

(Very early, adds Little Pig Petunia who loves presents!)

Illustrations of Reality

Today we go back at last to Pirate Goat’s Log of Summer Island. Goat’s Log is a record of Pirate Goat adventures on the Island in the St. Lawrence River and is one of many layers of reality that intermingle quite happily on that enchanted isle.

Perhaps it would be a good idea to dwell on those multiple realities for a moment. I have heard Monsters express confusion and some discomfort about those who treat Animals “as if they were real.” This perplexes many dwellers of Big Bed Land, who find it quite odd that Monsters treat money as if it were real. When money is just bits of paper and plastic! Furthermore, Monsters have invented a kind of Time that is also a Monster, and seems to control them. Bink, while hesitating to criticize the “Time is Money” reality of Monsters when they have clearly worked so very hard on it for centuries now, would just like to point out that sometimes less is more. Less work, more play, Bink ventures to suggest.

Here are several viewpoints of Summer Island. Mouse Fairy Goldenrod joined Goat in many of Goat's adventures and even won from Goat the rare honor of a written description of her beauty! (You will read this later.) Adele, the Monster self of Mouse Fairy Goldenrod, drew this map to the Island- called Hickory Island by Monsters- and she clearly stated that the map was how she saw Goat seeing the Island. (It's actually all quite simple if you don't think about it too hard.)

She noticed that Willabear, the only BBL Animal at the Island who did not eventually go on any of the river-swimming expeditions, had a very different point of view of the Island - mostly from the vantage point of the porch where he often sat, visiting with the Animals as they took sunbaths after swimming, and dreaming of his fair Glamora. How handsome love has made him! M. Adele drew both maps into Goat's Log, and we thank her for her generosity. Mouse Fairies are notoriously generous except on the occasions when they are not.

Here is another view of the Island from the hands of the remarkably talented Monster Margot. She herself dwells in the multi-faceted realities of being Mouse Fairy Tulip, our Beloved Queen, as well as Pioneer Woman, mother, artist, and now community social activist for the arts!

Talkback on Love

Last night after A Love Story, Willabear joined his fair Glamora for a wonderful night of star-gazing and she gave him some red roses to match his fetching red tie...

Webfootnote from Platypuss: There has been some follow-up in Big Bed Land on yesterday’s post: A Love Story. I have been asked to clarify the fact that Goat isn’t against love, just thinks it’s not particularly important or interesting.

If you want to rescue a fair maiden you can do this from a sense of honor, Goat points out, without getting mushy about it. If a maiden turns out to be an expert swordmaiden, you can fight beside her without getting mushy, and even save her life (if that’s the best strategy given the circumstances) without falling in love.

Pocketnote from Bink: Honesty compels me to mention that Goat just made a terrible face when Platypuss said “love” that last time, and that Goat actually groans when there is kissing in the movies the Monsters watch.

From Goat: Well, if we’re being so honest, how about the time we were looking at listings on the satellite TV menu and you told us that the show White Chicks would be all about albino hatchlings right out of the egg and Chicklet was so excited, not to mention Tip Chick, and then the Terrible Disappointment?

From Bink: That satellite was full of misinformation and we’ve gotten rid of it now, haven’t we? Partly thanks to your complaints, I might add. It wasn’t my fault that there was no Animal Pirates channel, and while we’re on the subject, there are no Animal Pirates at all in the Monster Dictionary, have I mentioned that?

Piggles appears at this moment, not ominously, but silently glowing with a particularly fulsome pink shining she can have and the Animals fall silent for a few moments. Then there are apologies and kisses all around and the Animals get back to the tobogganing trip Goat has organized to celebrate the first sub-zero temperatures! We have noticed that these little conflicts often arise just before a trip, then they disperse. Queen Gretel is bringing the picnic in her pocket-hamper, and Bink gets to snack on the way!

Feel free to join if you'd like, or to visit with the stay-at-home animals (and the stay-at-home Monsters!) We will give you fair warning that tobogganing with a Pirate Goat and a Lefty Bear and the notorious Penguins is fairly riotous...

A Love Story

Since we had already taken a break from Goat’s Log for festivities with Hyggehus, Pinky suggested that we tell a part of the Summer Island story that Goat is unlikely to mention except in passing. That is, the revelation that Willabear was in love. It came as a surprise to Monster E. too! (Only one other Animal of Big Bed Land has fallen in love, and that was when Mooselers admitted to a serious crush on Nell Shipman, the extraordinary writer/actress/film editor of the silent screen.)

Willabear was a relatively recent arrival in BBL when he went to Mouse Fairy Island this summer along with Lefty, Goat, and Chinaberry. Willabear has always been a dapper sort, and the Animals find this one of his fine qualities, along with his extremely relaxed attitude (which is genuine and not for show.) The combination of dapper and relaxed- even to the point of floppy!- is most unusual and piquant.

At the Island, Willabear pointed out that he needed a bath. Monster E. can be remiss in this area and often needs to be reminded. Since there is no running water at Summer Island, Violet Mouse Fairy helped fill a large basin with water from a hand pump in the kitchen for washing dishes that brings water up from the river. Violet has great and unusual insight into the Animal heart. When Willabear told her that he would like a fragrant shampoo with his bath, she began to guess the secret that he later revealed to her: that he was in love- and that his love lived in Big Bed Land.

As soon as she mentioned this, I realized at once who the Animal of his affections must be. “Glamora the Giraffe!” I said to myself, I said, “Self, it must be Glamora.” I had always suspected that great mystery dwelt behind those dramatic eyelashes of questionable authenticity. Through Willabear’s eyes, I perceived the complex beauty of her imagination and it felt like walking into a very three-dimensional snowflake—with planes of color on each crystal facet that kept turning into different landscapes: an unfurling frond of fern that became a paisley jungle of skirt drying on a chair next to a radiator clanking its way through the beat that chorus girls danced to when Forbidden Passion was a shade of lipstick red and frost furred the thin edge of the windowpane… Glamora was right to lower her lashes! A less capacious soul than Willabear’s could get completely lost in her eyes.

The Animals and Mouse Fairies are helping the happy couple plan a winter wedding. Glamora has already tried on her veil which came from the Council thrift shop. Who would have guessed that a place called the “Thrifty Shoppe” would be a place you could purchase a wedding veil for a giraffe? And on dollar-a-bag day too! What wonders life holds.

Historic Ambassadorial Tour

Note from Pinky your hostess: What a flurry in Big Bed Land! Polar Knight and Grey Dog were unanimously selected to add a few words to the Opening Ceremonies. Polar Knight presents this poem, explaining that this kind of poetry is called occasional poetry, because you write it (occasionally) on very special occasions. Here it is, with Polar Knight's dedication:

Dedicated to Fair Monster Kat - honored among Animals

The happy day dawns, we pause not to wonder
what makes the sun sparkle, we don’t have to guess
why even the earth worms are dancing down under
the earth as she shakes out the folds of her dress-
It’s the Hyggehus Animals crossing the tundra
The Gang is arriving today, we say, yes!

Welcome Teddy the Plushy with dapper crochet
And Eli with baby who shepherds the way
Here’s to Manny the Manatee, Pablo the Blue,
Carl, Goody and Will, and hey Gordon, you too!
Welcome Sergeant, the vigilant, Richard the Bold,
Enigmatic Henri (whom we’d love to hold!)
Flo and Pisa, the Boxers, the Highland Cow (sweet!)
And Hobo the traveler- it’s a pleasure to meet!
Footix Official and Ewen the lamb:
Big hugs from Piggles, Big Bed Land grande dame.
With Shingles and Hush they’re all making their way
The Hyggehus Gang meets Big Bed Land today!

Postscript from Polar Knight: We salute you, Monster J., without whose wisdom, loving patience, encouragement, and thorough understanding of Big Bed Land, Platypuss-in-Boots would never have been (and neither would today’s slide show have been completed in time!)

And now for the opening ceremony: we eat!

 

A few words from Grey Dog: Here I am with Rosie Bear, who has joined me in many of my travels. I do love to travel and run! One day this green basket simply lifted off the exercise bicycle (where many of our trips begin) and could travel by itself, effortlessly. When traveling with Monsters by car, I love to go outside and run next to the car for long stretches. (This is safe for Animal Dogs, but not safe for Monster Dogs.) I must say I feel a kinship with Shaggy Dog Hobo who traveled from Texas.

During the tour you'll visit Panda Air, the hammock which under Chairman Panda's direction can take the Animals anywhere, including under water and into outer space. Chairman Panda is an extremely evolved Animal (possibly from another planet, some speculate) who introduced the Animals to a number of new technologies, including teleporting and shopping. Panda has the somewhat disconcerting ability to appear suddenly outside Big Bed Land. There have been Panda sightings on Television, in Chinese Restaurants, and even on billboards! A much loved and respected Animal. The music for the tour is called "Grey Dog's Holiday" and was composed by M. John Hayes. He performs on the baritone ukulele and Monster E. accompanies on the flute.

Ambassadors From Faraway Lands

NOTE from YOUR HOSTESS PINKY: We take a break from Pirate Goat's Log today to bring you exciting news! We are expecting an ambassadorial visit from Monster K (alias Poetikat) and the animals who live with her and her husband at Hyggehus in Ontario, Canada. Here's the lovely introduction we received to these intriguing animals:

Clockwise, starting with the bear with the bowtie: Teddy (under all that crocheted goodness, is the original orange plushy bear circa 1961. He came all the way from England!), Richard Parker, the tiger (with the huge head) He was rescued from a boulevard where he was awaiting the big, bad garbage truck!, Manny, the Manatee, Pablo, the big bear (in his BLUE period!), Eli, the Shepherd-lamb (on his head and holding baby, Isaac), Carl, the cardinal, Goody and Will (the Lemur Mom and baby from the thrift store of a similar name), Gordon, the Ram (he never swears though), Sergeant, the German Shepherd, Flo (Florence) and Pisa (He leans) the Boxers, Hobo, the shaggy dog, who came all the way from Texas, Hennessy, the Highland Cow, Footix, the Official mascot of the World Cup in France, 1998, Shingles, the sloth with Ewen, the lamb, Henri, the French Arctic Hare, and Hush, the Basset.

We are all very excited about being transported to Big-Bed Land. As you can see, our bed is rather small, especially since Richard Parker takes up so much room and when K-Monster gets those hot flashy things, she moves into this bed and then there's no room at all. Plus, the fluffy red, cat-monster always comes with her!

We can't wait to go to Pirate Island and to see the ladybugs and meet everybody! Thanks for not minding us inviting ourselves. We don't get out much and we can hardly sit still with anticipation!

SECOND NOTE FROM YOUR HOSTESS: You can visit our dear friend Kat! The Big Bed Land animals are so excited about the visit (after official negotiations, scheduled for Monday, Monster Time (MT)) that they asked Polar Knight to write a verse commemorating this historic event! Platypuss will be working out the details of how to arrange a tour for the Hyggehus representatives, and of course I'll be busy too, especially planning the menu! I wonder what they like best to eat in Hyggehus and if they have similar etiquette to ours. Our rule of table manners is one of the first things we teach the young arrivals to Big Bed Land, since there is only one rule and animals tend to grasp it fairly quickly: Have As Much As You Want Of Whatever You Like. We can't wait until Monday! Hope to see you all there!

Greetings from our Platypuss,
Ambassadors from Hyggehus!
The animals from Big Bed Land
Extend a friendly furry hand
and thank fair Monster K, a sweetie,
for this first international treaty!
We hope ‘twill be the first of many
Where peace and poems don’t cost a penny.

NOTE FROM POLAR KNIGHT (Bard of Big Bed Land): “Poems” in Big Bed Land are pronounced “Pomes.” But I still have some doubts about that last line. And Poetikat, I found your tea-cup poem very beautiful and inspiring. Tea-cups, I feel, are sadly overlooked in the hallowed annals of verse. Thanks!

While I'm here, I would also like to thank the One whom Platypuss calls Audrey, Pinky calls Aunt, and I call Phoenix. "Madam! You are a phoenix. Your taste is refined, your Sentiments are noble, & your Virtues innumerable."


Aunt Phoenix Audrey sent the wonderful postcard I am showing you. A good motto for any bard. Best wishes to any other bards out there!

Next Goat Day

Such an exciting entry in Goat's log of Summer Island adventures today- one of the high points of Goat's stay at Sugarbush. This Platypuss, herself, has never been swimming with the monsters, but Goat makes it sound like fun. I have a feeling, though, that while Goat thought the Ladybugs had disappeared they were actually reading Goat's log! Who knows what they will do with the information they found there? I don't think Goat even realizes what happened! The picture was taken by Mouse Fairy Tulip, our Beloved Queen Margot, of Jewel Weed (carrying Goat on her hat), Violet, and Goldenrod of the Mouse Fairy Band. They are setting off for one of the Island swimming spots...


Pocketnote from Bink: Goat is referring to "Zebra Mussels," an invasive species (from the Monster point of view) with extremely sharp-edged shells that have made walking barefoot in the water quite hazardous. This is why Monsters and Mouse Fairies alike (most Mouse Fairies, that is) now wear water-shoes for swimming and wading. But they still get cut quite often and Goat was impressed by how much blood the dreaded Zebras can make flow without even moving! By just waiting there, in deceptive stillness.

Another Goat Day

Greetings from Big Bed Land! Well, we're back with the third installment of Goat's Log from the Summer Island adventure. You'll read more about the mysterious plague of ladybugs and Goat's first S'mores, some notes from Pinky, and a brief mention of Dog,Your Cultural Archivist. 

 











Another Goat Day

Too much is happening to track the days. Today is S’more Day. I must remember to make this native delicacy for the others in Big Bed Land when I get back. It will be perfect for when the bears bring dried marshmallows back after the spring Petunia Hunt. Strange how only bears have seen marshmallows growing wild on the bush and only when the Wild Petunias are blooming. I have traveled the Seven Seas and never seen a single marshmallow bush. A pirate’s life is full of mysteries like this.

(A NOTE OF ENCOURAGEMENT from Pinky Your Hostess: Don’t worry if you don’t understand about all the many traditions of Big Bed Land. After all, these have been evolving since time immemorial! Dog, who spends quite a bit of time digging in the Cultural Archive, will explain the traditional spring hunt for the Wild Petunia later on.)

Some of the monsters know about the ladybugs, mostly the Mouse Fairy girls, it seems, along with Monster E. and her friend Margot. They speak of the wild herds of ladybugs and of dangers, fearsome yet vague. But they also laugh and call each other “Ladybug.” Monster E. and Margot are unusually silly since the men disappeared. They call each other Pioneer Woman, whatever that means, and it is confusing that they seem to share this name. I fear that the Ladybugs might be using some kind of mind control as a weapon.

Around the fire, as the S’more flames burned low, Pioneer Woman swung their lassoes in a lazy but skillful manner saying, “Git along, li’l ladybugs.” I looked up at the stars (noting their position exactly) and listened to the monster girls sing “Yodel-ay-dee-bug, yodel-ay-dee-bug” into the hot and leafy night sky. For one moment I lost my keen sense of cunning and unceasing watchfulness—contentment overtook me. Could the Ladybugs be affecting me as well? I must be careful in my planning. Very careful, and reveal nothing.

Night

No moon. I am writing this by candle light. I think the Ladybugs come from the Ancient West and I will not be hasty about their destruction. Tomorrow I am certain to discover more.


(ANOTHER NOTE FROM YOUR HOSTESS: I asked Goat if Goat would add some pictures of Summer Island to his log and Goat replied that this was not necessary as Goat already knew what the Island looked like. But I got approval for adding some pictures myself. This is one of my favorite views of the grassy island paths among the trees-- and a lucky sighting of Mouse Fairies! Here are Violet and Goldenrod walking together toward the waters that lap at the island's edges.)

Pirate Goat's Adventures Day One & Two

Welcome back! We continue today with Pirate Goat’s log which records the island adventure shared by Mouse Fairies, animals, Pioneer Woman, and Sir Hickory this past summer. But first I thought I’d introduce Piggles, since she came up in Goat’s log last time (Where To Begin.) Piggles arrived at Big Bed Land many years ago during a very hard time in Monster E’s life, and luckily was already very old and very wise (although you might not guess it if you saw her dancing parts of the Nutcracker Ballet, as she loves to do at times.) In fact she is known as the Keeper of Faith and Reason and all animals recognize her loving rightness as easily as monsters recognize natural laws like gravity. They might try to evade her on occasion (Goat knows that if Goat gets too enthusiastic about having enemies walk the plank after a pitched battle at sea, Goat will eventually have to go and talk with Piggles) but none of the animals actually minds talking with Piggles; she always calms them down. I introduce her now because she is a quiet but very important part of life in Big Bed Land! And now, on with Goat’s Log!

Goat Day 1

It turns out the monsters here are OK. Some of them disappeared earlier today. Now I think I know why. This island is haunted by ladybugs, mostly invisible. A worthy foe.
Goat Day 2

The monsters here climb trees, this is useful. We swarmed up the rigging of a tall one. I explained to everyone that this highest place was called the Crows Nest. I saw to my satisfaction that a good supply of limes has been laid in against the Scurvy. Later we saw 4 moons and Jupiter. I might go there sometime. An explorer called Gallylayo (POCKETNOTE from BINK: actually spelled “Galileo”) was the first one to go to these moons—perhaps he is a distant cousin of mine. But before I do anything else I must make a strategy about the ladybugs.

Where To Begin?

Even a professional hostess like Pinky gets nervous sometimes—she just feels she should hide her nervousness and make everyone else feel comfortable, that’s what makes hostesses different. But it’s a little silly for her to try this with me because I can always tell by a wrinkle just to the left of her trunk when she’s nervous. A Platypuss is, at heart, an observer. She has been asking me questions like: How will you ever tell the whole history of Big Bed Land, ancient and recent? How will you explain the Underwater Ones and the Bubble Dogs and Racoonio’s pet fish that lives in the television? How will anyone ever be able to keep us all straight if they didn’t grow up here? Should I make nametags for everybody?

Well, I tell her, I think Piggles would love for you to make a nametag especially if it had glitter and flowers on it, and Lefty would like a whole collection of different ones, especially with outlandish names never heard before in Big Bed Land (names like Laffidepot, or Gornsnook, Lefty adds here)—but otherwise, probably not. Pinky’s face got a little pinker at the suggestion of glitter and she scampers off like the graceful pink elephant hostess that she is.
By the time she gets done spelling Laffidepot, I will have started us off with Goat’s tale of adventure and we’ll be on our way. I should perhaps mention, since Goat does not, that this whole adventure takes place on an island in Canada in the St. Lawrence Seaway. Even Monster E. doesn’t really know exactly where that is but maybe you do, so I mention it. Bink finds it very interesting that the plane ticket Monster E. used to get there reads “Eberlems.” He thinks it curious that monsters flying have different names than their usual ones, but perhaps that is useful in some way. He has looked through the Monster Dictionary (which is often strangely inadequate) and finds no explanation of this mystery. Here is the first section of Goat’s Log.
GOAT'S LOG:

Most of the trip was boring. So I fell asleep in my sleeping cave, deep on Pirate Island. My wolverine slept beside me. They are robbers, feared and detested, and they make good pets. I woke up suddenly on a boat. My ears were blowing backwards in a pirate wind and I knew the real journey had begun. It was a monster boat, which no animal of Big Bed Land ever drove before. I drove it very fast (Piggles says that animals don't enslave ancient trees to run boats like monsters do - OK - but just this once it was great, it was loud and stinky and fast.) I knew I was going to have adventures. At landfall, there was a lot of hugging also kissing so I left.

Meet the Animals

The truth is that if Platypuss hadn’t arrived in Big Bed Land, these communications with the outside world would not be taking place. Although the animals who began making their home with me many years ago have developed a sophisticated communications system among themselves, they never seemed to consider a dialogue with the general public as a possibility- or even as a hobby. But it’s turning out that Platypuss has an unusual approach to many things.

First of all, Platypuss is the only animal who arrived in Big Bed Land via the internet. That might be why she has the abilities that she does. (POCKETNOTE from BINK: You will no doubt notice that in Big Bed Land, some animals are called “she” at certain times and “he” at other times. This is probably too complex for anyone to understand fully. Suffice it to say that some animals are usually “she” but sometimes “he,” some are both pretty much equally “she” and “he,” some are always “he,” some are always “she,” and some are either sometimes or always or usually neither. There are many of these interesting difficulties in translating how animals talk—I am making a study of these in my Dictionary- the dictionary is called “Bink’s Dictionary” for this reason.)

The very first animal, Chinabeary, came from the land that was later discovered by the Mouse Fairies (you will be meeting these delightful and mysterious creatures on Platypuss-in-Boots as well.) The next generation came from a town in Bolivia called Tarija: Beatrice, Lucy, Old Bones and Roxy Mouse (who is very good at building things like underwater roller-coasters.) They’re called the Old Ones and were later joined by Sparky and Bear from Ancient Vermont. After that, there are so many animals that it’s better to keep track of them in any way you want—in many different ways rather than in just one way. You get more history that way if you like history, and if you don’t like history, you can ignore it altogether without missing anything.

The other animals came from stores in towns, gas stations, and an airport. Three are orphans. I mention this because the animals, after arriving in Big Bed Land, tend to forget where they came from. They get occasional flashes—Lefty will fall over laughing, suddenly, remembering a night of wild antics in Rite-Aid. Bit by bit, however, it becomes a mystery to them, the way our births become a mystery to us. That’s why I wanted to introduce them before handing the blog over to Platypuss. As scribe, he has the ability to type the words of the animals onto the internet. So from now on you’ll be hearing from Platypuss.

YOUR HOSTESS wants you to know that Platypuss will be posting every other Friday M.T. (Monster Time.) Check back in to hear the adventures of Goat and the plague of Lady Bugs! That’s what Platypuss has scheduled. Hope to see you here!

POCKETNOTE from BINK: It is seriously important that you achieve a clear understanding of the following: in Big Bed Land, all animals (loosely referred to as “stuffed animals” by some) are known as “animals.” Humans, cats, cows, dogs, etc. are all called “monsters.” It is a term of affection.

Eberle Umbach
© 2009-present

Mystery Animal Returns to Idaho Ranchette

Mystery animal, as in the fellow in the boots pictured to the right.  In fact, one might describe this animal as “Platypuss-in-Boots.”

If you are a long time follower of Robert Frost’s Banjo, you probably remember my wife Eberle Umbach’s wildly fun & imaginative blog that was—not coincidentally—called Platypuss-in-Boots.  Other writing projects have called Eberle away from blogging, but she has graciously agreed to make the content of the Platypuss-in-Boots blog available on Robert Frost’s Banjo so new readers can enjoy it & old readers can have some fun re-reading.  There may (or may not) be minor editing to the original posts so that they make sense in their new context, & there may be some jazzing up of the graphics, but overall, this will be Platypuss-in-Boots from start to….

From start to what?  Eberle has told me that as part of Platypuss appearing on Robert Frost’s Banjo, she may write some new episodes.  Oh frabjous day!

Platypuss in Boots will appear here on alternate Fridays!  Please check it out tomorrow!

"The Forest Woman's Monlogue"

[Hi folks: for your Tuesday enjoyment, a poem by Eberle.  She composed this as part of the prologue to an upcoming production of the Second Shepherds’ Play, for which she’s also composing the music.  The Forest Woman is based on a character in the movie Sorceress (Le moine et la sorcière).]

The Forest Woman’s Monologue

Soon the nights will be warmer
and soon the owls will leave this valley.
They always leave when the Moon
is in her waning and the Eldertree in flower.
That’s when I must be ready to pick the elderflowers
For they won’t wait.

When the owls leave and the nights are warmer
That’s when the fever comes to the valley
And when it leaves we are fewer,
there are always mothers mourning the hollow place
within their arms where a child once slept. 
I must be ready to pick the elderflowers
when they froth open in the moonlight of her waning
when the dew falls warm and heavy
I’ll fill my cauldron to the brim with their whitening blooms
For they save lives.

The priest looks at me sideways when I pass his door at night
on my way to the grove of the Eldertree – such a tree!
Her arms hold generations of us
in the moonlit hollows where her branches curve,
and in the dark where her roots cradle the earth
moistening among the worms and beetles.
The priest lets me go about my work because he has seen
the flower potion heal, and because he too grieves
When children die.

The priest has asked me how
I can have converse with the Eldertree -
for he has no mother and children with him
through the night and so his nights are occupied
with fears of demons and their many forms
leaping and prancing in the moonlight.
He asks me how the tree appears to me,
do I hear voices, he asks, how do I know
the meaning of the tree?
I point to the little black marks
in the sacred book he carries and ask how these
speak to him – does he hear voices? Do they take form?
How does he know their meaning?

He holds the book up, but doesn’t offer it to me,
he says: “This is the Word of God.”

I tell him that the tree is also the Word of God -
how else would the healing flowers bloom
just when the nights grow warmer and the owls
leave the valley, just when the warm dews
settle on the ponds and the fever comes?

But I don’t have time to tell him more,
the Moon is in her waning and the tiny pale fists
of the elderflowers open to her, one by one.
I must go now, to the grove and pick them
For they won’t wait.


Eberle Umbach
© 2010
 

Writers Talk with Eberle Umbach

I’m so happy to see the Writers Talk series beginning & I’m even more happy because we’re starting it off with my dear wife Eberle Umbach.  The facts: Eberle has a B.A. in Creative Writing from Oberlin College & an M.A. from Johns Hopkins, also in creative writing.  She has had her short fiction published in several literary journals as well as The Whole Earth Catalog (I've always thought that was terrifically cool), & a very generous excerpt from her Weiser River Pillow Book was published in the Impassio Press anthology of fragmentary writing titled In Pieces  (you can read the complete Pillow Book right here on Robert Frost’s Banjo.)   Eberle also served as Idaho Writer in Residence in 1988 & 1989.  In addition, as a musician she has been awarded a number of grants by the Idaho Commission on the Arts, especially for scoring work she did (with some help from yours truly) for the films of silent film director/writer/actress Nell Shipman.  In short, Eberle’s creativity, not only in writing & music but in other forms as well, is truly inspiring. 

To get some sense of Eberle's writing, please check out the new Writers Talk blog, where you’ll be able to read the first chapter of Eberle’s novel, The Sportswoman’s Notebook.  So, without further ado….


When did you first realize your identity as a writer?

In grade school and high school I wrote poems that just amazed me by how beautiful they were. In some ways, this has become more complicated over time, and in some ways not.

Describe the creative process involved in any one piece you’ve written—this could be book, a story, a poem, an essay, etc.

I had an unvarying routine for my most recently unpublished novel The Sportswoman’s Notebook - make coffee, sit with my parrot and write in the Pillow Book, then go to my studio and work. I liked having a complete outline written out very neatly, even though I was constantly not following it and rewriting it. As seems to always be the case when I write, one inexplicable image was the start of it and what I kept returning to when I felt lost in it. In this case it was an image that came to me as I was reading Turgenev’s The Sportsman’s Notebook (I’d never read any Turgenev before or since, but I was living in rural Brazil and read ANYTHING in English I could find.) I thought of how the book might be if instead of a narrator who was a hunter moving freely between classes and expressing the dynamics of feudalism, you had a woman narrator/hunter who moved freely through centuries, expressing the dynamics of masculinism. In itself, this was no more than an idly half-irritated thought – but it immediately merged with an image of vampires and other immortal monsters - of Frankenstein, and Mary Shelley encountering in herself the monstrosity of female writing, a doubled narrator - and the image of Elizabeth Bishop who had lived in small-town Brazil with the lover she called her maidservant. The tension between those ideas was what encoded the whole story immediately, in a moment, and I knew all I had to do was unravel it. I think the thrill for me is the experience of being simultaneously the silkworm who spins the cocoon and the woman who unwinds the cocoon into a single thread and weaves it into a dwelling tent. If an image doesn’t make me certain I will feel like that, I know I will get bored long before I find the story in it that is real for me.

Could you describe your relationship to the publishing process (this can be publishing in any form, from traditional book publishing to blogging, etc)

In the years immediately following graduate school, I had several short stories published in literary magazines and felt quite pleased with myself. But I knew that novels were what I really wanted to write. When my first two novels went unpublished in spite of some interest, I was really abysmally crushed though I tried not to admit this (pride not only goes before a fall but comes after it?) I started playing more music and writing less. When I started working on novels again, it was with no illusions as to their probable future. Which was, in some ways, liberating – after I’d exhausted the other emotions. I’ve been working recently with an agent who’s interested in a somewhat fictionalized non-fiction book about the friendships between 19th century women authors that I’m writing and this has been a different kind of emotional roller-coaster than outright failure – sometimes I feel horrified by the thought that I’m selling out – other times horrified by the thought that I’m not even a good enough writer to succeed at selling out – even more afraid of the fact that I’m actually coming to love this book and it’s not really selling out at all. What I’m trying to do now is just stay open to wherever the encounter of writing this way takes me, knowing that that’s the only thing, ultimately, that has reality.    

How has being a writer affected your relationships?
A movie that absolutely possessed me at a strangely young age was The Red Shoes, where the conflict between a woman’s art (as a ballerina) and falling in love leads to her take her greatest dancing role into her own life and commits suicide by dancing herself into a moving train. I also ADORED the ballet in the movie, where a newspaper dances on stage, and an ocean comes right up to the footlights (I was young enough to think these things were real.) But it was the fatal and inevitable horror of the conflict between art and love that consumed me. Not surprisingly, perhaps, I plunged pretty deeply into destructive relationships in the early adult phase of my writing life…and this conflict of identity is still one that gives me vertigo at times. But I’ve learned a lot more about it, and John – you understand this in a way that always brings me back to earth, to you, no matter how far away I’ve gone.

How would you describe the community of writers you belong to—if any?  This may be a “real” or “virtual” (in more than one sense) community.

My primary writing community has always been virtual (in book form) and intensely energizing to me. From early on in my reading life I strongly preferred women authors to the other kind (is literary sexual orientation perhaps genetic?) and in the thrill of 80s fem crit was delighted that I could justify this preference in such an intelligent-sounding way by espousing (tee hee) and even disseminating (har har) theories about the irreconcilable difference between women writing and men writing. But it wasn’t really a theoretical decision – the sense of an imaginary community of women writers that I read, as women writers before me had read, was just this incredibly powerful thing for me. One of the great historic events of my life in this in this virtual community was when I met Audrey – a graduate student in literature – when we were both waitressing in Charlottesville, and our first conversation in that frat boy bar with sandwiches named after sports heroes we’d never heard of was about 19th century women authors and the remarkable happened – I met someone who felt the same way I did about reading and about our literary ancestresses. So we developed an actual friendship within this virtual community and it has been an extraordinary relationship – for 25 years now. I think our dead sisters-in-writing have enjoyed our relationship too; they occasionally appreciate an up-to-date perspective. Ask me about St. Cecelia if you’re curious.

What are your future goals in terms of writing?

Honestly, my immediate goal is to write a publishable form of this book of 19th century women authors and then find a publisher for the novel I’m writing now, Magdala Red. More honestly and possible even more embarrassingly I’d quote George Eliot (a sister-writer whose unabashed earnestness at times makes me feel somewhat less abashed about my own):
 
May I reach the highest heaven.
Be to other souls a cup of strength in some great agony,
Enkindle generous ardor, feed pure love,
Beget the smile that knows no cruelty,
So may I join the choir invisible,
Whose music makes the gladness of the world!

Bonus Question: If your writing were a musical instrument, what would it be?

I would like to say an Aeolian harp, or the spangled drum of Cybele and Miriam. But more honestly perhaps, a duet between a student-grade Tibetan prayer bowl and a kazoo. A poor thing, but mine own.

Sumerian Hymn to the Bridegroom

[Guest post by my wife Eberle—the only person I have ever known who owns a Sumerian grammar.  We’re off to see Natalie Merchant in Washington state.  There will be a Photo of the Week tomorrow, however, as well as the usual Sunday post on The Days of Wine & Roses blog]

I started reading Sumerian poetry and proverbs in translation about a year ago, and also learning a little bit about the language. Never having come across this body of literature before, I was fascinated by a number of things – these writings go back to 5,000 B.C.E., which is almost unimaginably distant to me, but the proverbs seem vividly alive and human:

“This is the fate of the poor man: when he finds bread, he finds no salt. When he finds salt, he finds no bread. When he finds meat, he finds no condiments. When he finds condiments, he finds no meat. When he finds oil, he has no jar to put it in. When he finds a jar, he has no oil.”

Or, something simple and clever to say before lunch: “Bread is the boat, water the punt-pole.”

The holy woman Enheduana lived around 2300 B.C. and wrote about her evolving relationship with the goddess Inanna. Inanna is a fascinating representation of divinity – warrior, bride and courtesan, occasionally male as well as female, the double evening and morning star, in love with a shepherd, mother of the gods, the Lady of Infinite Manifestation; she gave humanity not only language, but knowledge of arts such as weaving. Her journey to the underworld is the first written version of this descent that would be told in many ways for millennia afterwards. Here’s my translation of one of Innana’s Hymns – the way that sacred marriage in this Hymn unites the sensory and the spiritual is beautiful, I think – even inspiring.

Sumerian Hymn to the Bridegroom

Bridegroom, my heart’s beloved
Your body is golden as uncombed honey
Lion, my heart’s beloved
Your body is golden as sweet honey is golden.
You have transfixed me,
My body trembling like a cup of water in my hands.
Bridegroom, I wish you to lead me to the bedchamber,
You have moved my heart, my body trembles,
Like a cup of water lifted in my hands.
Lion, I long for you to lead me to the dais bed.
Bridegroom, I will kiss you
My caresses are more golden than honey in the mouth,
In the bedchamber, hived with honey
I will know your beauty
Lion, I will kiss you
My kisses are more precious than honey.
Bridegroom, we have found the place of delight.
Tell my mother, she will reward you with fruit,
Tell my father, and receive gifts at his hands.
Your spirit—I know where to befriend your spirit.
Bridegroom, sleep in our house until dawn.
Your heart—I know how to delight your heart,
 Lion, stay until dawn touches our house.
You, because you love me,
Give me your kisses. Caress me,
Prince of Love, in the sacred place of delight.
As Shu-sin delights Enlil’s soul,
Let your caresses dwell in me,
Let our meeting be in the place of delight,
Lay your hand on that honeyed place,
Cup your hand over it, caressingly,
Caress it as a silken shift fragrantly
Caresses the skin.

Translation by Eberle Umbach
© 2010


Image is "Inanna," Terracotta relief, Sumer c. 2000 BCE

Adams County Makes the News - Council Leader #7

The Council Leader
Ivan M. Durrell, Editor and Publisher
COUNCIL VALLEY FIRST, THE WORLD AFTERWARDS
Council, Washington County, Idaho

March 25, 1910
CLEAN UP

Yes, clean up. Ask your wife if housecleaning time is not the main idea at this season. Let’s get together and show the women that we men can become filled with the same spirit, can show the same pride in clean streets, alleys and backyards that the women show in clean houses. And right now is the time to begin.

Don’t wait. In a few days, the town will be filled with home-seekers—people who have grown tired of eastern ways, people who are looking for a better place to make their homes, people who are looking for better conditions. Surely we cannot afford to let them come into our town and find things in so filthy a condition as they will be if we don’t get together at once. It is a blow to our pride, we realize, to know that things are as they are, but it is true. The streets, alleys, and backyards are simply rotten, no other word will describe it. Now is the time to get at it and clean up. Let us inaugurate a movement that will cause out neighboring towns to turn green with envy. We can get busy in such a way that will turn the eyes of the whole state on Council. We have been advertised all over the country as being in the center of the greatest apple-growing district in the world. Why not be advertised as being the cleanest little town in Idaho?

July 5, 1910
FREEDOM FROM THE CORPORATE GRIP

Council is the only town in Washington County that is using the Rocky Mountain Bell Telephone exchange, and the time is near at hand when the people of this vicinity will be operating an independent telephone exchange with decent instruments and at a reasonable charge. The time is nearing an end when the large corporations can extend an arm and hold the common people in their grip, unable to move, while they serve them with anything they want and at any price they wish to charge. Why should we be bound under the grip of this mighty corporation while our sister towns are enjoying their freedom? A meeting of the telephone users and those interested in the welfare of Council is called to be held at the Bowman-Holmes Company’s office next Wednesday evening, and every person desiring to maintain a telephone in his place of business is earnestly requested to be present.


July 15, 1910
NOTICE TO TELEPHONE USERS

Owing to the infinitely rotten service given the people of Council and Council Valley by the Rocky Mountain Bell Telephone Company, together with the exorbitant charges inflicted upon the people residing herein, a meeting of all persons interested is hereby called to be held at the office of the Bowman-Holmes Company, in Council on Wednesday July 20th at 8:30 p.m. to take steps to organize an Independent Telephone Company.

This matter is of vital importance and should have the attention of everyone interested in the welfare of the Council Valley district, and if the people will but stand together, it will be a matter of only a few weeks until we will have decent telephone service and that too at a reasonable charge.

Committee.


April 22, 1910
BUYS AN AUTO

E.W. Bowman purchased a five-passenger White Steamer Touring automobile to be used to transport the land seekers over the valley. Mr. Bowman, with his worthy partner C. W. Holmes, has built up a very profitable real estate business, and this summer they expect to locate several new families on Council Valley apple soil. The auto will come in very handy as now-a-days a team is too slow for the rushing real estate business that is going on in Council Valley. Several families already came to Council this spring and are well satisfied that this is the prime apple district in the northwest. With a family living and prospering on every ten acres of Council Valley’s superior ground, we will be living in a city of fruit ranches in a very few years, where prosperity and liberty can never be excelled.

August 15, 1910
ASLEEP OR DEAD?
Submitted by E. W. Bowman

Council is growing and there is no reason why the town should not be a trifle more progressive. There is no reason why that part of town development the responsibility for which rests solely on the broad shoulders of the city’s manly councilmen should have been dropped with a dull and sickening thud.

To illustrate: last summer there was much activity, there was a vivid and glorious awakening astir and a general movement toward progress on the part of the city council. The people are still working for town advancement, but the council—well, the council has apparently been ushered into the whitherness of the whence. During that brief period of general activity, there was an ordinance passed-- marvelous effort—and it was a sidewalk ordinance. It provided that when the walks about town in the business section should have passed the age of usefulness, cement walks should be laid. As a result, some good walks were laid—a part of the main business street was paved, but when the east side of Billie Brown’s place was reached, there was a sudden cessation of the good work, and the aged board walk that for lo these many years has been a menace was permitted to lie on in undisturbed and ghastly agedness.

A year has passed. Another winter’s snows have dissolved beneath the warm
spring Chinook, and still the walk remains. Slowly, the decay of time eats into the life of the wood thereof while the honored city council sleepeth. In the dark silences of night, some good Samaritan nails down a loose board, causing the Thomas kittens which ramble around beneath this artery of commerce to crawl up from under the side instead coming straight through as is their wont and privilege. Another charming stroll that first greets the new arrival, is the stretch that extends from the depot. This was to have been a cement walk a long weary year ago. To the careless and casual observer, it still bears a marked resemblance to wood. But what’s the use? The city council sleepeth the long sleep. Perhaps by heroic effort or miracle they may again awaken.

E. W. Bowman

compiled by Eberle Umbach

Adams County Makes the News - Council Leader #6

The Council Leader
Ivan M. Durrell, Editor and Publisher
COUNCIL VALLEY FIRST, THE WORLD AFTERWARDS
Council, Washington County, Idaho

April 28, 1910
IDAHO WILL NOT BE OUTDONE

Last week the Associated Press sent broadcast over the nation the startling announcement that Missouri hens, strictly up to date, were laying “comet” eggs: eggs with tails to ‘em. In one instance the appendage was one inch in length and in another, two inches.

A wise old Meadows hen, hearing this wonderful story—by wireless on chicken telepathy— dusted herself, shook her plumage, and said to her spouse in chanticleer talk, “Humph! Idaho can beat Missouri any day!” And when Mrs. M. E. Keisur, the owner of this wise old fowl, went into her henhouse last Monday morning, lo and behold! The feat was accomplished: there lay a “comet” egg with a tail over five inches in length and more than an inch broad at the outer end. The boss chanticleer of the flock then crowed with lusty pride, “Oh, Missouri ain’t so much!”

Meadows Eagle

February 15, 1910

The Mesa Orchard Co. has started to haul the lumber for their seven-mile flume. With the completion of this flume, the big canal will be ready to deliver water to the orchards.

September 30, 1910
COUNCIL VALLEY APPLES ARE PERFECT

An expert orchardist declares that they are the best ever produced: “I believe there are more perfect apples to the tree in Council than any other spot on earth. I believe Council valley is on the map to remain for many years to come as the best commercial apple growing section of the northwest.”


LOCAL ITEMS, 1910

For Sale Cheap—Ten cords of No. 1 sawdust. Fred Cool.

For a nice refreshing drink of soda water go to Billie Brown’s

At the baby contest in Cambridge on the Fourth, Mr. and Mrs. Chas. Ward’s one-year-old baby boy won first prize.

The strawberry crop was unusually large this year. Mr. Whitney gathered nearly two hundred gallons from his strawberry vines.

Butter wrappers available at The Leader.


April 30, 1909
MEADOWS MENTION

We are having rainy weather the past two days and the hills are beginning to get green once more.

Harry Brown, traveling salesman for the Ogden Candy Co., accompanied by his wife arrived in town on Monday’s stage.

Little Orpha McCully has been very ill with typhoid fever.


April 8, 1910
CARE OF LACES

Always iron lace on the right side first, and then on the wrong side to throw up the pattern.

When ironing laces, cover them with clean white tissue paper. This prevents the shiny look seen on washed laces.

Use corn flour instead of ordinary starch for stiffening laces.

Laces and other delicate trifles should be placed in a muslin bag before being boiled. This prevents their getting torn and lost in the wash.


April 15, 1910
BOOSTERS CLUB ORGANIZED

A Boosters Club was organized a few days ago for the purpose of promoting the development of Council and Council Valley. Only those who are interested in the development of the town and country are eligible for membership. The agitation of good roads and a cleaner and better town will be among the foremost actions the new club will dwell upon.


July 8, 1910
The Council baseball team went to Payette Lakes and played a couple games during the Fourth of July celebration there. The first day they played the Meadows team and won by a large margin. The second day they played the Roseberry team and walked off with another easy victory.


July 8, 1910
COTTONWOOD

The Fourth was passed very quietly by most of the Cottonwood people. Earl and Glenn Kiser went to Weiser. Several went to Middle Fork fishing. There was a family reunion at the home of Mrs. Moser, all of her children being present except the oldest daughter.

compiled by Eberle Umbach

Adams County Makes the News - Council Leader #5

The Council Leader
Ivan M. Durrell, Editor and Publisher
COUNCIL VALLEY FIRST, THE WORLD AFTERWARDS
Council, Washington County, Idaho

April 1, 1910
POSE AS A CAPITALIST

For one dollar we will send you three handsomely lithographed, but worthless, stock certificates, which you can fill out yourself for any amount, and have lots of fun showing them to your friends as proof that you are wealthy. These certificates appear to represent railway, gold mining, and insurance enterprises and look just like the “real thing”, but must not be used to realize money on. One sample for fifty cents. Send two-cent stamp for illustrated circular. Independent printing companies, Washington, D.C.


August 6, 1909
IT SHOULD BE

The name “Weiser” is being placed on the mound in the park at the Short Line Depot. Weiser has the prettiest park on the line from Pocatello to Weiser, and it is intended to still further beautify it by the addition of flowers and trees.
Weiser Signal

Sure thing the Weiser park is the prettiest on the line, and why shouldn’t it be since it is made from good, rich, black Council Valley dirt hauled down to Weiser for that purpose. The above justifies our claim that Council Valley dirt is the best for apples, meadows, grains, or parks.

December 3, 1909
COUNCIL VALLEY APPLES ATTRACT ATTENTION

The World Herald of Omaha, Nebraska, tells the following story of the Council Valley exhibit at the National Horticultural Congress which recently convened at Council Bluffs, Iowa: The representatives of Idaho at the show are extremely enthusiastic over the gigantic project of the Council Mesa Orchard company, which is preparing to set out the greatest orchard in the world, on the famous Mesa or bench lands located in Council Valley.

J. A. Carr, who is in charge of the Council Valley exhibit which has taken so many prizes at the show this year, said yesterday: “Idaho does not have to take a back seat for any state in the Union when it comes to growing fruit. This Council Mesa proposition is a great undertaking and when it is carried out in detail, will be a revelation. Four thousand acres of orchard, cut up into five and ten-acre tracts, each tract to have electrical transportation facilities, each home on each tract to have electric lights, are some of the things contemplated in the project.

“Eighty thousand apple trees have been ordered for next year’s planting on the Mesa, the varieties being Jonathon, Rome Beauty, and Winesap, three of the most popular commercial varieties. Experts have told us that this is the finest apple soil in America, and I believe them. It seems to me that the man who is fortunate enough to get one of these tracts will make a fortune out of it.”

Oregon’s exhibit is small but meritorious. Another exhibit that has proven a drawing card is the citrus products of Florida.

December 3, 1909
IDAHO APPLES FOR ORPHANS

Last Friday, in a telegram to Mayor Busse of Chicago, Governor Brady said: On behalf of the people of Idaho, I desire to present to Chicago orphans, through you and the united charities of your city, 3000 Jonathon apples which took the grand prize at the National Horticultural Congress.


March 25, 1910

Mr. Fuller of Spokane made a trip to the valley last week in search of a home. Mr. Fuller reports that several people in Weiser told him that he would find this valley covered with a blanket of snow. Weiser should take the hammers out of the hands of these knockers.


February 25, 1910

According to the astronomers, the earth will pass through the tail of Halley’s comet next May, but it is probable that if the astronomers had not found it out, the earth would not have known the difference.

Hailey News Miner


April 28, 1910
WE MAY ALL DIE LAUGHING

All humanity may die laughing May 18, when the earth passes through the tail of Halley’s comet, according to the theory of Carmille Flammarion, the famous French astronomer. By means of the wonderful instrument called the spectroscope, it has been discovered that the comet’s tail is composed of gases called hydrocarbons. These gases might so combine with the nitrogen in the air we breathe that the atmosphere would be converted into the regular “laughing gas” employed by dentists. The world would then die in a “delirium of joy.”

At first, a delightful serenity would settle upon mankind, says Flammarion, and then would follow a contagious gaiety, febrile exaltation, a paroxysm of delight, and then madness. Flammarion even conceives the world merrily dancing a joyous, hysterical sarabrude in which it perishes laughing.
Weiser Signal

compiled by Eberle Umbach