I am very fortunate to have two Heathers in my life, I’ll call them Heather I and Heather II. Naturally Heather I was the first, a most delectable woman who has a wonderful blog called Happymaking, her last post Fiction Or Bust, all about her aspirations of writing her first novel. This post is partly due to her as she once commented on one of my posts;

Sire, it was wonderful to read more about you. I love finding out what makes people tick, why they do the things they do. Especially people I know.

Then there is Heather II. I must be totally honest here in admitting that at first I thought that Heather II was Heather I, I just thought that she had changed her avatar. Being the dumb ox that I am it took me quite awhile before I realized that I wasn’t talking to Heather I at all and that another totally new, and much younger Heather II had come into my life. Nothing like a change of pace, wouldn’t you say?

But I digress. You see, whilst leaving a comment oh Heather II’s blog The 3D Student I mentioned how I failed art and had a self portrait that I once painted, and she said how she would like to see it. She also graciously included me in a meme called Sunshine Awards and as I don’t partake in them I’m hoping that this link will suffice.

So you see, this post aims to please both Heather I and heather II, Heather I because she will learn a little more about me and Heather II because she will finally get to see some of my artwork.

One thing you must all know is that I am not the same person that I was when I was much younger. I was always trying to find the path of least resistance. During PE when we were supposed to run a mile around the school, Malcolm, my best friend, and I found a short cut so that we could walk most of the way.

Actually thinking of Malcolm I remember a time when our PE teacher, Bazza, got Malcolm to swim out to the center of the pool and I was supposed to swim out and saved him.I tried to tell Bazza that I couldn’t swim but he made me go out anyway and as it turned out I started drowning and my mate saved me instead. Stupid dumb Bazza, you should have seen the look on his face.

But once again I digress. You see, to save time I used to borrow ideas from other sources, usually novels, for my school artwork. That one of the skull you see above was adapted from a John Wyndham novel, and happens to be my favorite piece.

This next one had pretty well the same background but the subject matter, as you can see was a city in flask. I reckon I must of thought that was what the world was heading for, and it was way before global warming and probably had more to do with Russians and nukes.

This background for this next painting was pinched from another novel, yeah I know I was a bad boy, but you have to remember that at that particular time I had shit for brains. Anyway, it was supposed to depict the fight of good over evil.

One of the artists that I admired was Wassily Kadinski, a Russian painter, and this next one was a painting that I tried painting in his style. Nope, this time it was part of the Art course as we had to do something in the style of a famous artist.

Next we have a painting of the Stonehenge, don’t know how this one came about but it did.

That was pretty well it for school. Some years later I decided to do another painting and seeing as how I liked Wassily Kadinski so much I decided to do another one using his style, only this time I used oil paint as a medium.

That same year, 1984, I decided to do my final painting, a self portrait and  once again in oil. I found working in oil was a whole lot better than acrylic.

And so my dear Heather I, Heather II and readers, I hope you enjoyed learning a little more of what lies behind Sire the blogger.

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I remember a time many years ago when my newly wedded wife was filling the spa for the first time. I was in another part of the house when I heard her screaming hysterically. I rushed to the bathroom to confront the following scene. My beautifully naked wife, standing in the middle of the bathroom with jets of water squirting all over the place. I couldn’t help myself as I walked past her and turned, laughing the whole time, the spa off.

I’ve heard of other stories where women who were confronted with scary situations just didn’t know how to react, there was even one where this young girl in a car with her instructor let go of the steering wheel and covered her face with her hands.

Let’s not get the wrong idea here folks. Not all women react in this fashion. There were many influential women throughout the ages,  women who had just as much balls as any man. These women included, Cleopatra, Joan of Arc, Mbande Nzinga the Angolan Queen, Indira Gandhi and even Margaret Thatcher.

Yes, all these women were great in their time, but you just have to wonder what it would be like today if If Women Controlled The Earth, women who did not have to worry about how men perceived them, women who did what had to be done because it was the best thing for the planet! Well, they say that a picture paints a thousand words and so I would like to present several photos for your education entertainment.

And can you imagine what would happen if they got control of design in the IT Industry?

Now, we all know what would happen in the bathroom don’t we?

And last but not least, the car park!

Honestly folks, whilst I made up the post these images are not of my doing. I actually got them in an email and after grinning from ear to ear I was going to delete the email when suddenly it came to me that it would make for a brilliant post. So if anyone owns these images please drop me a note and I will gladly link to your site that you get due credit.

As to my many loyal readers of the female persuasion, I hope that after reading this you cut old Sire some slack in the knowledge that I loves ya all and have the utmost respect for your abilities in whatever field your pursue.

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I don’t know why but I love dragons and I have done so for as long as I can remember. Some of my favorite books include dragons. These include Anne McCafferrey’s Dragon series right up to Christopher Paolini’s Inheritance which stars the magical Saphira and her Dragon Rider Eragon. So far I’ve read Eragon, Eldest, Brisinger and I am patiently waiting for the next book to come out.

I also collect dragon figurines. This is one of the first one I bought, and I’m not a fanatic so I don’t have all that many. It’s made of pewter and I photoshopped it a little so it looks like it’s flying over my neighborhood.

Here’s a little poem about dragons and dragon riders that I put together .

Dragons, a creature of mystery
Of legends but not of history
Many stories have been told
In books & dark nights they unfold

Majestic, mighty and terrible too
Their mighty roar and flames ensue
Respect and fear they do command
It’s strength no warrior can withstand

Of Dragon Riders I have heard
Mighty legends passed on by word
A bond between Rider and Dragon has begun
No longer two, they have become one.

Thoughts and feelings they now combine
Together forever their lives entwined
Feats of valour of the pair are told
Yet not today will this story unfold.

One of my favorite dragons would have to be this Swarovski Crystal. I fell in love with Swarovski! after seeing the Crystal Dragon. It was part of the ‘Fabulous Creatures’ collection and as only SCS members were allowed to purchase these pieces I quickly joined. This is the first crystal piece I ever bought. In following years I also bought Pegasus and the Unicorn with many pieces in between.

Trey of Swollen Thumb Entertainment has even written a instrumental piece called Beware Of The Dragon. I think when Trey wrote this the dragon he had in mind is the sort that would swoop down on you breathing fire and brimstone and perhaps picking up a stray man or woman as a tasty morsel. I much prefer those dragons who have befriended humans but are not against eating those lowlifes who would spam blogs or scrape them for their content.
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I woke up to the sounds of the bubbling creek singing in my ears. I looked over at Jandoram who was sleeping peacefully and decided to let him sleep a little longer while I prepared breakfast.

Fortunately there was lots of wood for a fire around our camping ground, and the presence of some wild apple trees made the gathering of some fruit quite easy. After starting the fire I took out some slithers of salted kangaroo meat a plopped them into the pan greased with pig fat. While that was sizzling noisily I deftly sliced some of the apples and threw them in with the roo meat, keeping the rest for later.

Just before breakfast was ready I started to whistle loudly, hoping that the tune “When the Saints Come Marching In” would wake Jandoram. To my reckoning, waking up to my lousy whistling was a whole lot better than being slapped around the face, something my dad was prone to do.

To my surprise he got up instantly, most likely hoping I would stop my infernal whistling. I stopped long enough to tell him to wash up at the creek, and then continued whistling aimlessly out of tune as he set off. I was just spooning my concoction into the plates as Jandoram sat down, all the while toweling his face dry. It was pleasant watching him shoving the food greedily into his face, and I thought to myself how nice it would be to have some company for a change.

After breakfast I showed him how to wash up and pack our bags so that they were evenly balanced which would make traveling that much easier. We then set of for Bloggersville, at town some 14 days away. We walked almost in silence as he was probably still brooding over what happened with the other day when I beat his stepfather senseless. I decided to get the ball rolling by kicking a lump of dried turd.

“Did you know that there are men, famous trackers, who could look at this bit of animal dung, and after examining it they would be able to tell you lots of information about the animal that left it. Things like the type of animal, how long it’s been sitting there and even the sort of food the animal ate. But in the end no matter what they are able to tell you about it, it’s still just a lump of shit.”

Jandoram walks silently by my side for awhile and then says, “Why are you telling me this Sire? Is it important in some way?”

“OK, let’s look at this in another way. There is many a man who does nothing more than boast of his great achievements; This could be the men he’s killed, the women he’s taken to bed or even the money he’s allegedly made. But when it all comes down to it, he’s usually just full of shit. The true hero does not need to shout his accomplishments for all to hear. He normally does not want his escapades to be known as it will draw unwanted attention to him.”

“But what has this to do with that lump of shit we left behind” says the exasperated young boy.

“Nothing much”, I replied, “just that one lump of shit is pretty much the same as the other. You know Jamdoram, not every story has to have a meaning, sometimes they’re good to just pass the time of day.” As I burst out laughing, thinking that after 600 odd years I would have stopped laughing at my own stupid jokes,  he threw me a puzzled look and then said, “Where are we going Sire?”

“Why, to Bloggersville of course.”

“Really? I didn’t think I would ever get to go to Bloggersville. What will we find there?”

“Ah yes, Bloggersville is filled with many wonders and delightful people.  Why, I remember hearing a story of a woman who resides there, I believe her name is Louise, who has in her possession the magical and much coveted Lottie Moon Cook Book, the recipes of which has brought some of the strongest of men to their knees as they begged to savor some of the delicacies it’s produced.  Then there is Holly who just happens to be the most ethical person in Bloggersville. Few will dare to cross her path while throwing ethics to the wind, as it has often been told that Holly can flay the skin off anyone who came within twenty feet of her limber tongue. Why there is not a word in existence that Holly can not put to good use when castigating those who get on her wrong side.

Then there is Heather the fumbling one who once put a magical potion in a cupboard that almost blew four homes into oblivion. Now let’s not forget Anne, formerly of Buttsville, who has devoted her life to finding a toilet seat that is warm to sit on. There are rumors that once she solves this problem she will devise one that lowers automatically once it has been raise.”

“But Sire, surely Bloggersville is not filled with women. Are there no men of valor there?”

“Surley Jandoram, but did no-one ever tell you that behind every great man there is a great woman? One should never discount the importance of a woman when it comes to shaping the world. But you ask of the men of Bloggersville. Let me see…..ah yes! There is the very hardy Jim,whom  many have said has traveled far and wide just to see how far in the known universe a blog will reach. Of course there is Zorlone who is well known for his wondrous cures as the city’s doctor, but I have heard that he would rather be a bard and poet, and that he frequents the bars telling far fetched stories of alien worlds where there exists the mystical Avatar.

But enough talking, lunch draws near and we need to catch some food.

Other posts in the Sire, The Wandering Bard series.

• Sire’s Big Moment A Total Flop
• Google The Tyrant, A Tale Of Old
• In Search Of Fame And Fortune

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Keeping in line with the Halloween theme I thought I would post a poem about a scary night when you’re home alone. It may well fall on the night of Halloween itself, when all the trick or treating is done and it’s time to watch a spooky movie. I have to admit though that this time I just had to end the poem with a bit of a twist.

Home alone on a dark windy night
Gonna watch horror movies to get a fright
Stick a movie in the DVD player
Got some chips and a dip for flavour

Turned the lights out and settled down
Sitting on the lounge in my night gown
The movie’s scary I’m crouching low
When’s the scary part coming, I don’t know

A screeching sound scares me out of my mind I jump right up leaving my skin behind
Its only a moment before my skin comes back
Hitting my body with a blood curdling crack
I go into the kitchen for the carving knife
I need a weapon in case I meet some strife
I creep into the lounge, the movie still playing
When suddenly there’s some screeching baying

All of a sudden my heart’s in my throat
I can’t breathe I’m starting to choke
With some effort I push it down
I must find out what’s making that sound

I creep into the master bedroom
It’s dark and scary, will I meet my doom
A sound of water from the bathroom I hear
Is there a ghoulish fiend lurking near

The screeching starts, I can not bear it
I must stop it before my mind it splits
I raise the knife its blade a gleaming
I must stop that damn awful screaming

I open the door just a crack
To see the fiend I must attack
My jaw drops, eyes open wide in shock
My wife is back she beat the clock

That awful sound was her singing
That grating sound my ears a ringing
A horror movie that I had found
Would be much better if it used that sound.

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