Skip to main content

The general tendency of things throughout the world is to render mediocrity the ascendant power among mankind.


A chicken for Ezra’s birthday, handmade by his loving mother. July 2010.

[Addition: as noted by my darling wife in the comments, you can find the pattern for this chook - and it lays eggs too - at ikatbag.com.]

It has been a while, but I think this week I shall celebrate Theme Thursday and try my hand at another drabble!

Lucky you.


BRUSH

Colin was excited. A BRUSH with fame. An encounter with celebrity. A taste of the high life. A hint of something ‘better’. That was what he said he wanted. That was what he thought he wanted.

Then he met Derrick. Derrick was on the Soaps. His face would be familiar. Wizened Detective # 2. Drunken Politician on Right. Cantankerous Father-of-the-Bride. Derrick was famous, but not too famous for the number 37 tram.

Colin cleared his throat. Colin adjusted his tie. Colin began to speak, “pleasant weather.”

Derrick grunted and pushed passed.

Colin looked out the window. The BRUSH off.

Comments

Betsy Brock said…
A brush with fame...well, that's one of the funnest kind of brushes there is!

Tell your wife that the chicken is adorable! :)
Brian Miller said…
i have me a few brushes with fame...some are cool...and others i would not let brush my walk off...smiles. happy tt kris...nice chicken!
Tom said…
...did he think it was a pick up attempt? nice chicken...though i've never heard of a chicken toy before.
jen said…
Thank you Betsy and Brian, just a note that the pattern for the chicken is from ikatbag.
smudgeon said…
Suddenly I feel the urge to add "hand-made chicken" to my birthday list...
Julie said…
Um ... I feel dumb ... what's a drabble?
Claudia said…
i LOVE that chicken...
Nicely done! Love the range of brushes!
the chicken is awesome!
Unknown said…
Love the chicken and the drabble! Happy TT
Kris McCracken said…
Betsy, the chicken lays plastic eggs with hand-made chicks in them.

Brian, I’m not sure that I’ve met a REALLY famous person. A few minor ones.

Tom, perhaps is was a pick up. Obviously wasn’t interested!

Jen, I’ve added it now!

Me, it should be a standing item on ALL birthday lists.

Julie, a drabble is an extremely short work of fiction exactly one hundred words in length. The challange of the drabble is its extreme brevity, as it tests one's ability to express interesting and meaningful ideas in an extremely confined space.

If you like, you can see some earlier attempts of mine by clicking here.

Claudia, as do we.

Everyday Goddess, love the BRUSH. The chicken is indeed awesome.

AmyLK, thanks!
The Silver Fox said…
Glad you didn't chicken out and brush by this week's theme.
Baino said…
Aww poor guy. How rude of minor celebs to ignore their fans. My mother used to have a name for those types of actors who's names she couldn't remember or faces that were familiar, she's day "You know that actor, the one that's very well employed".
Kris McCracken said…
Silver Fox, not missed one yet!

Baino, there aren't so many of those these days.

Popular posts from this blog

If you want to be loved, be lovable.

Henry admires the view.

Zeal, n. A certain nervous disorder afflicting the young and inexperienced. A passion that goeth before a sprawl.

Here I have tried my hand at the homemade sepia-toned photo. I wasn’t happy with the way that the sun had washed out some of the colours in the original, so had a bit of a fiddle because I like the look on Henry’s face, and didn’t want to pass on posting it. I have a tip for those of you burdened with the great, unceasing weight of parenthood. I have a new recipe, in the vein of the quick microwaved chocolate cake . Get this, microwaved potato chips . I gave them a run on Sunday, Henry liked the so much I did it again last night. Tonight, I shall be experimenting with sweet potato. I think that the ground is open for me to exploit opportunities in the swede, turnip, carrot and maybe even explore in the area of pumpkins. Radical, I know. I’m a boundary-pusher by nature. It's pretty simple, take the potato. Slice it thinly (it doesn't have to be too thin, but thin enough). Lay the slices on the microwave plate, whack a bit of salt over the top and nuke the buggers for five minut

Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it...

I still have the robot on the job. Here you can see the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery . And here is a poem: Soliloquy for One Dead Bruce Dawe Ah, no, Joe, you never knew the whole of it, the whistling which is only the wind in the chimney's smoking belly, the footsteps on the muddy path that are always somebody else's. I think of your limbs down there, softly becoming mineral, the life of grasses, and the old love of you thrusts the tears up into my eyes, with the family aware and looking everywhere else. Sometimes when summer is over the land, when the heat quickens the deaf timbers, and birds are thick in the plumbs again, my heart sickens, Joe, calling for the water of your voice and the gone agony of your nearness. I try hard to forget, saying: If God wills, it must be so, because of His goodness, because- but the grasshopper memory leaps in the long thicket, knowing no ease. Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it... I like Bruce Dawe. He just my be my favourite Austral