A Halloween Tale

Minerva was more of a financial witch than a magical one. She often had more use for her mobile phone than for her magic wand, although she was able to cast basic spells.

She was surfing the web one night, looking for business opportunities, when she found something that interested her. "Oooh I love parties" she thought. "It would be lovely to get back to the woods and I've never been to Arizona. I've just bought a new hat, I got my bargain broom from Sainsbury's for £1 and........

Just then, the phone rang, interrupting her train of thought. "Minerva, it's us, the skeletons from the dolls' house" said three tiny voices.

"Hi, how are you?" Minerva replied.

"Sad, homeless, worried" cried the voices.

It seemed that a terrible event had occurred. The dolls' house had been sold, as the little girl had grown up and gone away. The other toys had gone with it, but the skeletons had been out the back, frightening the birds, and had been left behind. With Halloween approaching, they wanted to be settled so they could give their full attention to their spooky activities.

Minerva wanted to help her friends and turned to her computer, typing in the key words tiny, home, cheap. The magic of the internet got to work. From the hundreds of options presented, Minerva chose the two most promising ones...

'PUMPKIN, IN NEED OF CONVERSION, SHORT TERM LEASE ONLY DUE TO COMPOSTING OF INTERIOR' and...
'WINDMILL, MUSICAL FEATURE, FULL OF CHARACTER, IN NEED OF SOME TLC'
She visited both properties, the second one with the help of her friend Ebay Jay as the cheap broom from Sainsburies had broken down.

Her friends loved both properties, and, due to the falling house prices, could afford both. They moved in in a flash and, apart from a couple of miserable ghosts haunting the place, everything is going fine. They have even managed to grow a pumpkin.

They were relieved that they havn't missed the party. Just don't give them anything stronger than tea....

UPSTAIRS

DOWNSTAIRS

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.....
THE PUMPKIN, PRE-CONVERSION
WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.......

THE GARDEN

Windmill Story Part One

Once upon a time, let's say 1965, there was a little wooden windmill, made in Switzerland, for sale in Holland, shiny, new and desirable. It was not just an ordinary windmill, but a musical one. Wind the sails and it will play a merry tune. A young couple are on holiday and buy the windmill to remind them of their happy time, wandering around Holland.

The little windmill goes home with them to England, it stays in their house for forty three years, occasionally being wound to remind them of that distant time, especially when the grandchildren call round. One day however, for whatever sad reason, the windmill finds its way to the charity shop. It sits on the shelf, looking tatty and unloved with its little sail just about clinging on. It is only £4! It plays a beautiful tune! I must have it. It comes home with me, to sit on my shelf for a while, ocasionally to be wound, until an idea slowly begins to form.

To be continued....