In Tandem #16 A Nursery Tale for Grown-Up Children

Graphic copyright Jinksy

Peter Penguin had been hatched with a disability. It was immediately discernible when he entered the water. All his friends and relations bobbed about on the surface or dived deep but Peter sank like a stone. His parents and aunts and uncles shook their heads. 

‘Negative buoyancy,’ they muttered. ‘What can we do?’

They went to consult the Principal Penguin, a wise old bird, who nodded as they told him Peter’s problem. From beneath his throne he brought out a box. Unlocking it, he withdrew five flat striped articles. ‘These are water wings,’ he intoned solemnly.

Peter’s parents glanced warily at each other. ‘Peter has wings,’ they said. ‘We all have and we use them in water so are they not water wings? Peter’s water wings do not work properly.’

Principal Penguin regarded them gravely. ‘These are inflatable and will help Peter with his little problem.’ He proceeded to blow air into them and showed Peter how to wear them, one on each wing, one on each foot and one on his tail.

Peter Penguin felt very self-conscious as he waddled to the water’s edge but to his joy found that he was able to swim like the rest of the chicks. Diving was a little more difficult but as he practised he discovered that he could overcome his disability. Soon he was able to dispense with his swimming aids and everyone forgot he had ever had an impediment. 

When he returned the water wings to Principal Penguin he looked shyly at him and said, ‘Thank you, sir.’

Principal Penguin smiled kindly at the young bird and patted him on the shoulder. ‘I had the same disorder as you when I was little.’

Peter Penguin gasped.

‘One day, you may be Principal Penguin like me. Principals are always chosen from those who have had to overcome adversity. Be happy, young man, and be kind.’

Peter Penguin pattered home with a smile on his bill and a song in his heart. Sure enough, many years later, he became Principal Penguin and was revered for his compassion and wisdom.

The End

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In Tandem #10 Raptors

A bit of whimsy for Jinksy’s tandem. Birds have colour vision and can also see ultra-violet but use it as a survival skill – finding food, attracting a mate in order to reproduce, for example - and not to appreciate the finer things in life, so far as we know!

Graphic copyright Jinksy

Raptors

When raptors soar do they ever look down 

And see the beauty beneath them, 

Or are they programmed only to kill,

Instinct for life overwhelming?

Through the swirling clouds to the lands below

Is their scrutiny concentrated,

Seeking the prey their talons will snatch

That will shriek as the flesh is torn?

In Tandem #9 September song

I'm still in Bad Poetry mode . . . To see more worthy contributions powering Jinksy's tandem please click here.

Graphic copyright Jinksy

September song

Sun shines,

Leaves fall,

Love’s gone,

That’s all.

This is the song travelling through my mind this morning . . . Eva Cassidy enchants with her beautiful rendition of a haunting song.

In Tandem #8 Sunrise, sunset

Image by Jinksy

Jane stepped into the dewy field and felt her soul expand as she gazed at the sunrise. House martins skimmed above the long grass, catching the early insects busy about their business. Canada geese honked in the distance. Far off a dog barked and was answered by another. The morning was fresh and new-washed with a hint of warmth to come. It was going to be a perfect day in this peaceful Somerset hamlet.

Jane stretched and breathed deeply of the sweet air. She set off across the meadow, following a faint track towards the hills.

Two hours later the sun had gained strength and Jane was glad of her wide-brimmed hat and bottles of chilled water. She crested the highest hill and marvelled at the vista spread at her feet. She settled in the lee of a rocky outcrop to eat her lunch. Below her a red kite described slow, graceful circles, a flick of its tail changing the direction of flight. 

A movement to her left caught her eye and she glanced across, expecting to see a buzzard stooping on unfortunate prey but saw instead a tall figure leading a procession of softly chanting people in flowing robes. They drew to a halt and formed a circle into which stepped two figures, brightly apparelled, faces painted in vivid patterns.

Jane watched for a while before realising she was witnessing a Wiccan ceremony. She remembered the date – June 21^st, the Summer Solstice. She suddenly understood that the two figures in the middle of the circle were representations of the Horned God and the Mother Goddess. Fearing that she was intruding and might be discovered she slipped away.

Later, as the sun set, she saw a faint glow from the far hills – a bonfire, maybe, a final obeisance to Litha? 

Image by Natasha 

Jinksy's brainchild, 'In Tandem' can be found here

In Tandem #5 The way to a man’s heart . . .

'In Tandem' is the brain child of Jinksy. This week she has offered two illustrations for inspiration. I have chosen the second for my flight of fancy.

 

Sylvie wanted to impress her Italian boyfriend so when he said that he loved Polpi in Umido she scurried out to the local market to buy an octopus. She had never eaten octopus but Pietro said it was delectable. She selected one, shuddering slightly at the sight of the suckers on the tentacles, remembering that it was considered an intelligent invertebrate and hoping that it was, indeed, truly defunct, dead, passed over, gone beyond.

 

Back home Sylvie set about preparing the food. She checked the ingredients; white wine – yes, better sample that – she poured herself a generous glass, sipped, approved, glugged, refilled. Garlic, tomatoes, honey – all there. What was this - fresh dill and parsley? No, she didn’t have any of those. Dried mixed herbs would suffice. She was nervous about cooking for Pietro – she really liked him. She didn’t like spicy food so decided to leave out the chillies. She didn’t like anchovies, either – far too salty - so never had any in her stock cupboard. She didn’t think it would make a huge difference to the finished dish.

 

Sylvie consulted the recipe. The first thing she had to do was clean the octopus. Gingerly she removed it from its wrapping and cut off the head. She couldn’t find the beak so thought the creature must have lost it.  She rinsed the body in several changes of water and looked at the next step. She didn’t relish cutting it up so resolved to cook it whole. With everything in the pan and safely out of sight she poured two glasses of wine just in time to open the door to Pietro.

 

He was appreciative of her efforts to cook one of his favourite dishes and smiled at her as he chewed and chewed. He was a little surprised to discover the beak still in place between the tentacles and laughed, not unkindly, when Sylvie explained why she had not found it. She ate very little – the suckers were quite repellent and she didn’t like the rubbery texture.

 

Looking back to that day Sylvie smiled. Her husband had waited for several months after they married before confessing that the octopus had been almost raw. ‘It’s all right,’ he assured her, ‘It’s a delicacy in some countries. Some Koreans even eat it alive. It’s just that I prefer it cooked.’

 

They agreed then that henceforth they would share the cooking. Sylvie specialised in traditional English fare and Pietro was in charge of the Italian dishes. Eventually they opened a small restaurant, but octopus was never on the menu.

In Tandem #3 Brown eyes

In Tandem comes from the agile brain of Jinksy.

Here's what she says this week . . .

'This week the Tandem has two riders! Margaret Bednar has offered one of her original artworks to accompany mine.  I thought our two styles of portraits might make an interesting contrast...
They seemed to have a strange affinity, one with the other.'

I studied the children at the gymnastics class and the young man with them, the father of one of them, I guessed. One little girl had blonde curly hair and big brown eyes. Her face had the roundness and flush of just-past infancy and it was difficult to see how it would develop. She was still little more than a baby but already her mouth seemed to have a stubborn set to it, a determination to have her own way. She was a pretty child, no doubt about it, but perhaps wilful and difficult – ‘a proper little character’ as some would say, thinking themselves fortunate that they would not have to witness evidence of her individuality. As I watched, she smiled and all hint of contrariness disappeared.

My attention was diverted by my own daughter executing a perfect back walk-over. When I looked back to the two children I decided that the other child, slightly older, I thought, was the young man’s daughter. She had the same straight, dark hair and deep-set brown eyes. Her cheekbones were more pronounced and a slight dimple in her chin confirmed it for me.

As the class came to an end, my daughter ran up to me, excited by the praise and encouragement the coach had given her. She looked over to the two little girls and waved at them. They were about to start their class.

‘Do you know those two?’ I asked.

She told me they were called Anne and Sarah.

‘And is that their daddy with them?’

She giggled. ‘No, he’s Sarah’s big brother. He’s watching them both until Anne’s mummy gets here.’

I nodded. The likeness between Sarah and her brother was remarkable.

As we were leaving a tall blonde woman came in and I waited a moment to see the greeting between mother and daughter, to confirm my deductions. To my surprise, she hugged the child I had thought was Sarah, shook hands with the young man and said ‘Hello’ to the little blonde-haired Anne.

For a moment I felt like saying to the tall blonde, ‘Are you sure?’ but common sense prevailed and my daughter and I went home.

(I have made the same wrong connections in the past and also other people have wrongly assumed my blonde daughters belonged to someone else!)