pardon me?
so... when moth came over to see me a couple of days before christmas, i asked her to tell me a story... and she made one up about a girl who lived in a sponge pudding (yeah i take after her in so many ways...) and today in my inbox i found another story she wrote yesterday to amuse me, about said girlie *grins* made me laugh... i love my mum, she's cool
Here is an exciting story about the girl who lived in a sponge cake. It is actually a diversion so that I don’t have to watch during the scary bits of Terminator 3! So it may be a little disjointed as I am probably able to watch about 10%! Well, here goes….
One upon a time there was a very small girl. Her name was Sarah. She lived a very unusual life and all her friends at school were rather envious. Sarah lived in a small house made of sponge cake. The house was kept in the front lounge on a stand after the family discovered that outside was not a good idea. In Spring the foundations went soggy, during Summer it went stale too quickly, in Autumn the berries would look too much like chocolate sprinkles and get eaten by local children with uncomfortable results, and in the winter the birds pecked holes in the roof. Add to that the problem of the goats and you really would have thought that the family would have realized their mistake before 3 whole years had passed.
Sarah’s mother baked Sarah a new sponge every fortnight (she had a huge oven,) when the old one went stale, and was sold to local developers; which was a shame really as they were very artistic and could have been sold to the up market London galleries. In this way, the income from the properties enabled Sarah’s mum and dad to live a rural existence, growing their own veg, keeping goats in the garden, playing strange musical instruments, constructing things out of willow and creating not very useful ‘things’ out of clay.
Sarah’s mother always designed the external styles of the houses with their balconies (only for decoration since Sarah used one about 5 years before and fell through the balustrade into the asparagus) and colonnades, but allowed Sarah to model the inside by using a pallet knife, a spoon, cocktail sticks, paper clips, a small pokey thing and six yards of sticky-backed plastic. Each one was different in style but they always had a pink bedroom princess tower.
One day Sarah went to school as usual, on her motorised skateboard and had a very ordinary day. It was her favourite lesson today and her dad was always so proud when she took home the many useful things she had made in technology.
On the way home she chatted with one of her friends who happened to mention that there was a new girl who had just moved in up the street. The new girl, Daisy, lived with her parents in a converted mouse hole. (Thankfully it wasn’t a rat hole!) It turned out that she was quite small too and had quite a few difficulties with being trodden on but unhelpful people who didn’t look where they were going.
Sarah and Daisy soon met and became the best of friends. Sarah wasn’t keen on Daisy’s home as they kept a pet mouse and Daisy was always asking to take it to Sarah’s house. Many a time Sarah had to explain that this was not a good idea as the sponge cake didn’t need any remodelling. However Daisy was so insistent that her mouse was very well behaved that one fateful day, forever after known as The Day Of The Mouse. She allowed the mouse to visit her lovely home.
The friends chatted about this and that, and then went for a walk around the bathroom. It took them a while as they were so small, but when they got back disaster had struck…. The mouse was lying upside down with its feet in the air and a satisfied look in its eyes. The beautiful ranch style house with its princess tower now resembled a piece of cheese. There were holes everywhere. Sarah was distraught and didn’t know what to do. Daisy was so upset with her badly behaved mouse that she ran home and didn’t look both ways crossing the street……
We have no idea what happened to the mouse. Was he filled with remorse? Did he live out his days as a recluse, sifting through dustbins? Or did he use his experiences to become a great poet, take the world by storm and spend the royalties on sponge properties in a bizarre attempt to right the wrongs of his youth? Probably not.
Sarah’s mother came in from the garden where she had been trying to produce one of those interesting hand woven colourful rugs that was looking more and more like a dish cloth. (She had more talent than Sarah’s father who was only able to produce car cleaning rags). ‘Eek’ wailed Sarah’s mum…’What happened? Your home looks rather draughty.’ I may have a little difficulty selling that one on if something isn’t done.
‘Alas and alack’ said Sarah. ‘This I already know. What can be done to rectify the situation?’
Her mother smiled. ‘I know just the thing. We will rush down to the store fore some icing sugar and I will create the best, smoothest, thickest icing you have ever seen. Then we will redecorate. First we will remove the sticky-backed plastic wallpaper and fill in the larger holes and tooth marks with cup cakes. Then we will smooth over the rest with the icing. You can then throw in some hundreds and thousands, silver balls and crystallized ginger before it sets. It will look just fine and dandy.’
Sarah was delighted. ‘Thanks mum. You’re the best. You always know just what to do when a crisis strikes.’
The end of this tale is just as interesting as the beginning: the property developer loved Sarah’s mother’s latest stale creation when it came time to sell it on. He gave her twice the going rate and moved into it himself.
After the family had become fed up with the property developer living in their lounge on their table in one of their old stale cakes they made him pick up his house and walk. He took his house away and sited it in a beautiful spot on top of a mountain overlooking a gurgling stream. Which turned out to be a mistake as the local bear population took a fancy to the property during the night and ‘redesigned’ it into small crumbs which the early birds gathered up and flew off with. This was a bit of a shock to the property developer when he woke up, admired the stars and then remembered that he didn’t have a skylight…..
The End.
For Sarah P. 27th Dec 2003
Here is an exciting story about the girl who lived in a sponge cake. It is actually a diversion so that I don’t have to watch during the scary bits of Terminator 3! So it may be a little disjointed as I am probably able to watch about 10%! Well, here goes….
One upon a time there was a very small girl. Her name was Sarah. She lived a very unusual life and all her friends at school were rather envious. Sarah lived in a small house made of sponge cake. The house was kept in the front lounge on a stand after the family discovered that outside was not a good idea. In Spring the foundations went soggy, during Summer it went stale too quickly, in Autumn the berries would look too much like chocolate sprinkles and get eaten by local children with uncomfortable results, and in the winter the birds pecked holes in the roof. Add to that the problem of the goats and you really would have thought that the family would have realized their mistake before 3 whole years had passed.
Sarah’s mother baked Sarah a new sponge every fortnight (she had a huge oven,) when the old one went stale, and was sold to local developers; which was a shame really as they were very artistic and could have been sold to the up market London galleries. In this way, the income from the properties enabled Sarah’s mum and dad to live a rural existence, growing their own veg, keeping goats in the garden, playing strange musical instruments, constructing things out of willow and creating not very useful ‘things’ out of clay.
Sarah’s mother always designed the external styles of the houses with their balconies (only for decoration since Sarah used one about 5 years before and fell through the balustrade into the asparagus) and colonnades, but allowed Sarah to model the inside by using a pallet knife, a spoon, cocktail sticks, paper clips, a small pokey thing and six yards of sticky-backed plastic. Each one was different in style but they always had a pink bedroom princess tower.
One day Sarah went to school as usual, on her motorised skateboard and had a very ordinary day. It was her favourite lesson today and her dad was always so proud when she took home the many useful things she had made in technology.
On the way home she chatted with one of her friends who happened to mention that there was a new girl who had just moved in up the street. The new girl, Daisy, lived with her parents in a converted mouse hole. (Thankfully it wasn’t a rat hole!) It turned out that she was quite small too and had quite a few difficulties with being trodden on but unhelpful people who didn’t look where they were going.
Sarah and Daisy soon met and became the best of friends. Sarah wasn’t keen on Daisy’s home as they kept a pet mouse and Daisy was always asking to take it to Sarah’s house. Many a time Sarah had to explain that this was not a good idea as the sponge cake didn’t need any remodelling. However Daisy was so insistent that her mouse was very well behaved that one fateful day, forever after known as The Day Of The Mouse. She allowed the mouse to visit her lovely home.
The friends chatted about this and that, and then went for a walk around the bathroom. It took them a while as they were so small, but when they got back disaster had struck…. The mouse was lying upside down with its feet in the air and a satisfied look in its eyes. The beautiful ranch style house with its princess tower now resembled a piece of cheese. There were holes everywhere. Sarah was distraught and didn’t know what to do. Daisy was so upset with her badly behaved mouse that she ran home and didn’t look both ways crossing the street……
We have no idea what happened to the mouse. Was he filled with remorse? Did he live out his days as a recluse, sifting through dustbins? Or did he use his experiences to become a great poet, take the world by storm and spend the royalties on sponge properties in a bizarre attempt to right the wrongs of his youth? Probably not.
Sarah’s mother came in from the garden where she had been trying to produce one of those interesting hand woven colourful rugs that was looking more and more like a dish cloth. (She had more talent than Sarah’s father who was only able to produce car cleaning rags). ‘Eek’ wailed Sarah’s mum…’What happened? Your home looks rather draughty.’ I may have a little difficulty selling that one on if something isn’t done.
‘Alas and alack’ said Sarah. ‘This I already know. What can be done to rectify the situation?’
Her mother smiled. ‘I know just the thing. We will rush down to the store fore some icing sugar and I will create the best, smoothest, thickest icing you have ever seen. Then we will redecorate. First we will remove the sticky-backed plastic wallpaper and fill in the larger holes and tooth marks with cup cakes. Then we will smooth over the rest with the icing. You can then throw in some hundreds and thousands, silver balls and crystallized ginger before it sets. It will look just fine and dandy.’
Sarah was delighted. ‘Thanks mum. You’re the best. You always know just what to do when a crisis strikes.’
The end of this tale is just as interesting as the beginning: the property developer loved Sarah’s mother’s latest stale creation when it came time to sell it on. He gave her twice the going rate and moved into it himself.
After the family had become fed up with the property developer living in their lounge on their table in one of their old stale cakes they made him pick up his house and walk. He took his house away and sited it in a beautiful spot on top of a mountain overlooking a gurgling stream. Which turned out to be a mistake as the local bear population took a fancy to the property during the night and ‘redesigned’ it into small crumbs which the early birds gathered up and flew off with. This was a bit of a shock to the property developer when he woke up, admired the stars and then remembered that he didn’t have a skylight…..
The End.
For Sarah P. 27th Dec 2003