Showing posts with label Grand. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Grand. Show all posts

Thursday, 28 March 2024

Welcoming Spring

Many of my recent blog writing has dealt with the Treefellow owls and the attempt to reach the forest community of Chunglewood. This might give the impression that I am fully occupied, especially when combined with family life and my writing for Darcy. You might even be wondering, "when does Jackson do his proper job?" 

Well, I do that too. I've not spoken about it recently but now would seem to be a convenient time to give you an update.


As a consequence of writing the songs for the "Sylvan River" musical, the famous baritone Corbet Mulligan approached us. He wanted to record a new album and liked the idea of some original songs written to suit his voice. My songwriting partner Chris Snow-Warren became his primary contact and we ended up contributing six songs. We enjoyed this. Whilst, on the face of it, Corbet doesn't give the impression of being overly approachable, this couldn't be further from the truth. As we worked together, his demeanour proved to be due to an unexpected shyness, and as he warmed to us our working relationship became warm and friendly. 


Whilst not as popular as Lionel Grand's records, Corbet's album sold reasonably well and the publicity widened his appeal beyond his main fan base. The revenue wasn't bad either.


Corbet was so pleased he came back to us and asked us to write all of the songs for a followup album. To give it greater cohesion he thought the songs should be written to a common theme. That resulted in a number of discussions; Chris again took the lead as the lyrics would play the greater part in illustrating the chosen theme.
 

The agreed concept was to be "The Year". Each song would represent key points in a year, covering special days in the calendar, the progress of the seasons, and the effect on a fictional but representative character living through that year. It would start with the optimism of a new year and probably end with something festive for Christmas.

So. How's it going? I'll let you decide. Here is a draft version of the lyrics Chris has penned for a new song "Welcoming Spring". Appropriate given the time of year.


CHORUS 
I feel it's time to welcome spring;
It lifts my spirit, makes me sing
to celebrate the warmth I have inside - with pride
I welcome this Sylvanian spring 
and knowing what these months will bring -
new growth and joy throughout the countryside.
 

The snowdrop nods its bell-like head,
a signal of the time ahead.
The crocus follow, lilac, purple, gold.
The primulas in all their hues,
so many that its hard to choose;
each one of them a wonder to behold. 

CHORUS 
 

The small narcissi give me thrills 
as do the larger daffodils;
their sunny faces brighten up my day.
And then unfurling wide leaves show
Where multicoloured tulips grow
And spring confirms it's well upon its way.

CHORUS 

Emerging from thick clumps of green  
Thin stems raise up and soon are seen
the bluebells ringing tones of deepest blue
And up above forsythia,   
laburnum and bright kerria 
exploding each in blooms of yellow hue.

CHORUS repeat
 

The lyrics might change slightly as I work on a melody for this but I don't foresee any major alterations. In any case Chris is very accommodating. It's always an honour working with him. 


One thing is becoming clear. As our songs are becoming more in demand we will reach the point where the artistic and business aspects of our work will fight for our time. Do we need an agent or some such individual to assist us when necessary? We have Bernard Sellars at the TESE Advertising Agency who handled our Rodentine toothpaste jingle work but we didn't think this was his arena. 

We mentioned this to Lionel Grand. After all, he is already much in demand and must have someone handling his bookings and studio recordings. He suggested having a word with his partner Rory Redmayne who also fulfils that role. With Lionel spending more time relaxing in his Mellowdene home, Rory will also start living here part-time. We could meet him then. It's certainly a thought.
 

I enjoy creating new melodies and crafting harmonies and the feeling of well-being that occurs as a by-product. In itself that's a good reason I won't allow my work to suffer. Even for owl-driven projects!

o 0 O 0 o









Friday, 30 December 2022

No Christmas Holiday for Santa

Yes, it's me - Darcy. Hi! With me assuming writing duties today you may be wondering what amazing knowledge I have to impart. If that's the case, calm down - you need some perspective! Seriously... I was thinking about Christmas. 

Last year I told you about a few of the seasonal traditions adopted by Mellowdene crittizens. My mate Spencer Maces has already organised the initial schedule for this year's Mouse Run as he had a family celebration - though he knows there will be last minute revisions. I also highlighted that Christmas elements were creeping into these traditions. There's nothing wrong with that - who can argue with the sentiment "peace in Sylvania, good will to all critters"? 
 

This year it continues. When the school takes the end-of-year break, more children are asking, "What are you doing for the Christmas holidays?" Even in my own family; I heard Danny and Helen asking Ralph and Saffron Walnut that exact phrase. This was a minor example, but more evidence came from another Fielding family member - my cousin Alonso.
 

Funnily enough, Jackson mentioned Alonso in the previous blog entry. As a pizza delivery driver he sees a lot. I must comment that, as a member of our family, he also shares the trait of curiosity. It so happens that something he saw on completion of a recent delivery run piqued that curiosity. Santa and an elf. He had to investigate. 
 

o 0 O 0 o

Alonso had dropped in at my workplace. With us my chief reporter and friend Harry Hawthorne was taking a break after submitting his latest article for the Mellowdene Examiner.


"I saw them at the roadworks near to the end of the canal," said Alonso. "You know, where they've been clearing and expanding the path that follows a defile into the foothills?"

I nodded.
 

Harry overheard and came over. "I was talking to Huckleberry yesterday and he said that HHG had just completed their work and just needed to clear away their equipment." (Huckleberry Hamilton is a partner in the contracting firm HHG Enterprises and the brother of Harry's wife Tillie.) "He also said that the road didn't lead to a secondary pumping station as we had been led to believe."

That wasn't entirely accurate. No one had specifically told us that a new pumping station was being built. The location of the works caused that logical but faulty assumption and nobody corrected any misapprehension - maybe because nobody knew the real reason.


Alonso was smiling faintly. "I wondered what critters were doing there in their Christmas clothing so I followed them."

I was proud. He may have abandoned the newspaper businesses followed by our fathers but he still had the familial nose for a story.


"Huckleberry did say that the roadworks had to be completed for the Christmas Holidays," said Harry.


"Well, I did follow Santa and the elf along the road, winding through to the foothills. They stopped by a structure that was built at the entrance to a cave. Work was still ongoing, and they seemed to be checking on progress. I couldn't tell if all that work would be completed by Christmas."

 
"What was being done?" I asked.
 
 
"Wellington and Wolfram Waters had packed up their stuff and they were about to leave. They had obviously done most of the work on the timber walls. Maybe that extended into the cave but I couldn't see. I did see Rolf Billabong and he was part way through tiling the roof. He's an agile little guy."


"I think I should go and check what's going on there,' said Harry, "there could be an article worth writing about it.


"I did check," said Alonso, beaming. "I went to ask Santa."

o 0 O 0 o

"The pair turned out to be Lionel Grand's brother Lennox and nephew Lawrence," Alonso began.


I was aware that they had been staying temporarily at Lionel's holiday home. Ogden and Viola Splashy are live-in housekeepers there and they wanted it known that these strangers had permission to be there.


"Did they explain what was being built?" I prompted.

"I was a little surprised. They said it was Santa's Grotto."
 
 

Harry stared at my cousin. "What?"   

"I know. I struggled to understand too. I asked Lennox why he needed one, and queried why Mellowdene was chosen for its location."

"And?"


"He laughed. He said it wasn't the only grotto in Sylvania. It's one of many used as distribution centres. He explained that one element of Christmas was the sending and receiving gifts, 'Good Will' being a big thing."


"A sort of post office?" Harry asked.

"Not quite the same, I gather. It liaises with businesses throughout Sylvania - solely for bringing together gifts. Egbert Highbranch was mentioned because of the toys he makes. I think the hill cats are involved in haulage - which probably explains the proximity to the canal."

I wondered if the speed-tunnels that Jackson revealed were involved. Most people would assume link ups with the sea cats visiting the north coast.


Alonso continued. "I asked Lennox if they'd be set up by the Christmas Holidays. From what he said he doesn’t think so - not fully anyway - but he explained that the Santa Society wanted to get things started since Mellowdene are becoming more involved in Christmas celebrations."

"The Santa Society?"


"That's what they call the people working in the network of grottos, apparently. The Santa and elf suits are a sort of uniform." 

"Will the grotto be left dormant most of the year? Wasteful if so," said Harry.

"Ah, funny you should ask that," Alonso nodded sagely, "as I asked the same thing."



"You should work here," laughed Harry, "asking reporter-like questions."


"Ah, I'd miss my trike and the free pizza," said Alonso with a wink. "But Lennox told me that the grottos are built with lots of storage. Gifts are accumulated over the year. That explains why we may see Santa suits in summer."


I remembered something my cousin had said. "You mentioned that Lennox said the grotto would be set up 'not fully'. What did he mean?"


"The grottos are also supposed to be a place for children to visit, but it won't be ready this year. By next year it should be fully operational. Lennox actually said this year is likely to be his last Christmas Holiday." 

o 0 O 0 o


After Alonso had left, Harry scribbled down what he remembered from our conversation. I knew he would follow up the story. Personally, my musings about the encroachment of Christmas traditions was overtaken by another question. Did all this mean Lennox and his family would become permanent residents? Would they continue to lodge at Lionel's home or set up their own home? Maybe Lennox wouldn't have much of a holiday this Christmas after all.
 
 

o 0 O 0 o

Friday, 17 September 2021

The Marmalade Twins

Lionel Grand's unexpected visit was a pleasant surprise. He was an entertaining guest and told us some anecdotes about his encounters during his performance tours. He was also interested in hearing about the cat community here in Mellowdene. I might tell you about them in a future tale. After all, his appearance had already postponed the tale I was going to tell.
 

An hour before finding Lionel vacuuming my living room (I had to finish up that particular task) I had been socialising in the East Dock Lane snack bar. Board games and Captain Seadog's brothers aside, there was another attendee I'd not expected to see. Young Oscar Marmalade.
 

Oscar is one of three apprentice crew members who are learning nautical work from Horatio Seadog and his brothers. The youngsters split their time with academic studies at the school (the apprentice programme) and practical training for a job on boats and so forth. Horatio has told me his 'motley crew' are enthusiastic and excellent at their work aboard the Marita May, and their apprenticeship will soon be completed.
 

The Motley Crew, whilst still physically quite small, are reportedly strong little critters and highly capable sailors. 
 
At the snack bar, Oscar told me that he had a few exams to do at school, then - assuming all went well - he was free to join the Seadogs full time. He had taken his first exam and was now relaxing with Irwin and Owen. Murky Waters and Twitch Hazelwood had another year of schooling, and they were currently aboard the Marita May with Horatio, Amos and Beaky Webster. Consequently, Oscar was feeling quite grown up and was more talkative. Physically, he didn't look much different to the young bear who had discovered the stowaway Orton Butterglove two years ago. This contrasted with his manner and attitude which were far more mature. This was a confident young bear.

One subject was his younger siblings, the identical twins Ottilee and Oonagh.

o 0 O 0 o

"You see, Mr Butterglove, it was my mum behind it," said Oscar. "Because my sisters looked so similar, she thought they should act 'as a set'. Dress the same, work together and present themselves as if they were the same person."

Irwin Seadog raised his eyes in response.


"I know, Irwin," said Oscar. "And when they were tiny it was cute. I suppose we thought that they'd start to look increasingly different from each other as they grew older. There'd be no point in presenting themselves as if they were identical."

"But they do still look incredibly similar," I said, effectively reinforcing his tale.
 

"They do. And mum still wanted them to accentuate that."

"There's a 'but' coming, isn't there?"

"Yes. They didn't want to go against mum, but they were becoming uncomfortable with everything."

"Not being seen as individuals?"


"Yep. Oonagh started to complain to me, but didn't know what to do. She knew our mum loved us and..."

"She was conflicted."

"Yes. I had an idea. Try and show subtle differences and increase it over time."
 
"And?"


"They tried it, Mr Butterglove. Oonagh washed all her dresses with extra detergent, trying to leach the colour. Ottilee started wearing a hat."

"Did that work?"

"Mum noticed. She wasn't too happy, so the plan was abandoned. The clothes are still slightly different but that's as far as it goes. The hat is banished to the wardrobe."
 

"What about your dad?" asked Irwin.

"He always supports mum. United parenting, I supposed, but last year dad said I was old enough to know the main reason. When my sisters were born it was thought they wouldn't make it. When they did, mum found it hard to separate them in her mind. By treating them as one, she thought that if ever one sister should come to harm, the other would - in a sense - keep them alive."


Irwin regarded the solemn young bear curiously. Oscar must have noticed. He smiled.
"Oh, I know it's a little odd, and it took me a while to get my head around it."

"Poor Margot," Irwin said, "but that doesn't help your sisters. It's a sad situation for them to be in."
 

Oscar laughed. "It was. It isn't now."

I was curious why that should be. Oscar was happy to explain. 


"Mix and Match happened."

o 0 O 0 o

'Mix and Match' are the nicknames of Mitchell and Maxwell Brighteyes. These two rabbits are also identical twins but they revel in their similarity.
 

Before they moved to Mellowdene to live with their Uncle Howard and Aunt Marion they had already taken advantage of their mirrored appearance to construct inventive pranks that entertained them and bamboozled their 'victims'.

Upon attending Mellowdene School the teachers thought it would help prevent confusion if they attended separate classes. This didn't stop the sibling rabbits from taking advantage of the situation. Mitch was good at mathematics and science. Max was good at language and writing. By clever analysis of school timetables the cheeky bunnies would swap places in order to do the subjects at which they excelled - twice. It continued for some time but was exposed when the timetables changed at short notice. The school wasn't happy.

This didn't faze the irrepressible pair. They laughed, took their punishment without complaint, then started to think about their next endeavour. 
 

Meeting Oonagh and Ottilee, they were delighted to find other amazingly identical twins. They didn't really understand why the Marmalade sisters wanted to be completely distinct from one another, but quickly accepted that was just how things were. Ripe for a prank though. 
 
As they discussed the situation at their aunt's Blackcurrant Cafe, they were careful not to be overheard.


"Look," said Mitch. "You're going about this the wrong way."

"What do you mean?" asked Ottilee. 


"If your parents want you to be identical..." started Mitch.

"...be EXTRA identical..." said Max.

"...and if you do it right, it'll drive your mum and dad crazy."


"I don't know if we want to do that," said Oonagh, "as we love them."


"Oh," said Max, "we know that. You don't fancy learning how to talk in unison? Okay. Then..." He winked at Mitch as a cue for him to continue. 

"...go the subtle route. Play swapsies."

o 0 O 0 o

Ottilee and Oonagh went into training. They spent painstaking care to fine tune their appearance so that the tiniest physical difference between them was invisible. They worked on their voices so that they could speak with pitch and intonation indistinguishable from one another. They worked on their movement and deportment. 
 
Mitch and Max were their mentors throughout and it's fair to say that the Marmalade sisters quite enjoyed the process. A few weeks of this and the Brighteyes twins told them they were ready.
 

The first opportunity to test their skills related to the afternoon drama club run by Kenneth Furbanks. Oonagh had been attending there a few months. On this occasion, when Oonagh left school to go to the Furbanks' house, Ottilee changed into one of Oonagh's dresses, did a few vocal exercises to adopt her sister's persona and then went home.

When she entered the garden her mum smiled at her. "Hello, love. Aren't you supposed  to be at drama club?"
 

Internally, Ottilee smiled. Oonagh's paler dress had done its work. 

"Ah, mum," she said, "they don't need me today. I've got some homework anyway."

"Oh? Then I suppose it worked out well."

"Yes. I think I'll do my homework now, mum. Get it out of the way," said Ottilee, moving towards the house. 


"Good girl. Have you seen your sister?"

"Not since school. It's a nice day. You know Ottilee likes walking in the sun." 

"Well she knows what time we have our tea. You get on, dear."

And then she was inside. It had worked! Mum hadn't seen who she really was. And without any lying - after all, the drama club didn't need her, she did like walking and she did have homework to do. A mischievous grin crept onto her face.

Oonagh had her chance to impersonate Ottilee a few days later. Again, they'd planned it so that the initial exposure was short, but Oonagh found herself facing both parents. 


"So, Ottipotty," said Maurice, rubbing the back of her head, "can we expect Oonagh home anytime soon?"

"Yes, I do like to see both my favourite girls," said Margot.

Oonagh had discussed various scenarios with her sister. Mitch and Max had stressed the importance of planning and communication, so her parents' questions were expected. It helped that Ottilee had told her of her encounter with their mum.


"Oh, I expect you'll see us both soon."

"Did she say where she was going?"

"I haven't seen Oonagh since this morning," said Oonagh, thinking of her reflection in the dressing table mirror, "but I know if she doesn't go to drama club she's curious about what she's missed."
 

o 0 O 0 o

Irwin Seadog laughed. "How did they keep all this straight in their heads? Remembering who they were supposed to be, where they said each of them would be compared to where they were, and so on?"

Oscar's mouth twitched. "They tried to explain to me but I got lost. It must be a twinny thing."

"I'm still not sure exactly what they meant to achieve, Oscar," I said.
 
 
"Oh you will, as eventually something came of it. They did this sort of thing two or three more times then moved onto the next stage."

"Which was?"

"Being there together. They'd disguised their minor physical differences so it was only their clothing, talking and movement habits that allowed anyone to see who was Oonagh and who was Ottilee."

"And your parents had no idea?"


"My sisters looked so similar, they didn't need to tweak too much. They told me that they wanted mum and dad to rely on their clothing for identification. It was during this stage they confirmed that had worked."

"How?"

"They'd make an excuse to go upstairs, and they'd change clothes and identities before coming down again."
 

I looked at Irwin who was shaking his head with mirth. "And I thought my childhood antics with Owen were odd."

"Well that's my sisters. We had three weeks of this before the final stage. And they were delighted to tell me all about it."

o 0 O 0 o

The two sisters walked confidently into the room. In step. Identical clothes. In unison they said, "Hello Mum. Hello Dad."

Margot and Maurice turned to see their daughters. Their smiling faces slowly froze.
 

"Oonagh? Ottilee?"

"Yes?" They both spoke, but using the inflection of each other’s voice.


Maurice wrinkled his brow but Margot smiled. "Oh, it's lovely to see my gorgeous girls in the same clothes." She thought she knew which twin was which. She was wrong.

They didn't lie about who they were, but used each other’s voices to speak. They also adopted their sister's idiosyncrasies; the Brighteyes twins had helped them identify these during training. This continued for around ten minutes. A subtle signal, and they swapped.


Maurice scratched his head. Margot didn't notice the switch at first, but confusion soon crept onto her face. Nevertheless she became used to the voices and characteristics of her daughters and relaxed again.

When they switched again, Maurice was the one who smiled. Maybe he figured out what was happening but he didn't call it out. Margot's speech became distracted when she realised she was apparently addressing the wrong sister. Even so, she didn't ask for any sort of clarification. Not until the next swap.


"Oonagh?"

"Yes, mum?" said Oonagh in Ottilee's voice.

More confusion. "Wait. You're Ottilee."

"No mum," said Ottilee in Oonagh's voice, "I'm Ottilee."


Margot's turned rapidly to her other daughter.

"Aw mum, I'm not Ottilee," said Oonagh in her own voice, and Margot's head snapped back. 

"And I'm not Oonagh," said Ottilee in her own voice. 


Margot brought her paws up to her face. "What's happening?"

Maurice gave out a belly laugh. "You've got the identical girls you always wanted, my love."

Margot peeked out from behind her paws. "Not like this..." she said, then her husband's laughter infected her. "Oh, my darling daughters, you..."

"...need to be individuals?" prompted Maurice.


Margot Marmalade finally realised what she'd been doing for years. "I've been selfish. But no more, my darlings. You're not just one set of twins. You're TWO wonderful girls."

There were hugs all around. And once this was over, Margot had a pair of final comments that showed things really had changed.

"Oonagh, do you want to change your dress? And Ottilee, you can wear your hat if you'd like to..."
 
 
o 0 O 0 o

Oscar sat back after finishing his tale.

"So, all is well," said Irwin. "I bet your sisters are relieved."

Oscar laughed, as if from some secret memory. "Yes, you're right. But they probably had too much fun pretending to be each other."

"What makes you say that?"

"It's just that I wonder how the village would cope with another Mix and Match..."
 

o 0 O 0 o