What weird and wonderfuss stuff would you find in a witch’s bottle?
Eyeballs for potions? Newt tails for breakfast? The tears of naughty children for a cauldron-carrot-cake recipe? Whether it be ghost farts or demon giggles, doodle something you would capture and keep for a magic spell or ghastly witching brew.
Top Tip: Witches can squeeeeeeeze almost anything inside a witchy bottle – the only limit is your imagination!
You’ll need every colouring pencil, crayon, felt tip and gel pen in the house!
Doodle tiny decorations – like shooting stars and lightning bolts – and then colour them in. Or your unicorn could simply be stripy or spotty or maybe zigzagged like a zebracorn! All you need to do is think all the colours of the rainbow and then some!
You’ll also need to dream up a sparkling unicorn name and, if you can stomach it, doodle some weird unicorn poo! Unicorn poo like jelly beans, cupcakes, pongy rainbow puffs! Ew!
“Don’t eat me!” wailed the goat. (Well, at least that’s what I thought that bleating meant.)
“But I caught you with my special spoon,” the giantess pouted. It was indeed a special spoon. It had a particularly fusty mould to add flavour and a hook for catching dinner. A dinner like Ty the Peedie Goat.
The giantess was called Gerdila. As well as on the spoon, she loved growing fungus in her grey-green hair and green-brown clothes. But the moudilest place of all was Gerdila’s squelchy fungus tongue.
Gerdila the Giantess didn’t like her dinner to be too wriggly. So Gerdila simply blew putrid breath on her prey. One foul puff of her fungus tongue killed most things instantly. She mainly ate sheep and cows – but avoided Highland Coo’s because they are too ‘flooff-full’.
Ty the Peedie Goat was next. (Gerdila stomped right past the alpacas as they are far too floof-full as well.) She hooked Ty round the neck with her special mouldy spoon and plucked him from the herd. The other goats watched wide-eyed and open-mouthed… All except for Chumley who carried on chewing the cud whilst watching a nearby cloud that looked like a fluffy bale of hay. Or so he imagined.
‘Peedie’: Orcadian dialect for small, little.
Ty, perched on his bottom, flopped a little as if already half dead. He bleated pitifully. Gerdila smiled a stinking smile and then blew…. Boooooooooof! Rancid air filled the sky, with little whiffs drifting down to the ground. The stink made the alpacas gag and spit. Ty lay deathly still in a cloud of stench.
“No!” I yelled, bursting out the door, tears streaming. No one heard, as I hopped to get my wellies on.
Ty burped. A giant, gurgly burp right from the depths of one of his many stomachs. We watched it bloat his belly then travel up his neck and finally erupt from his pink, fuzzy lips.
“Ew!” Gerdila the Giantess pouted. “That’s disgusting. And why aren’t you dead?”
“He’s a goat,” I answered, wiping my running nose on my sleeve. “He may be cute and cuddly and small but don’t let that fool you: goat’s breath is the most disgusting thing ever. Even more foul and fetid than yours – no offence.” She eyed me funnily and I started to back away to the safety of the house once more. I cursed for having brushed my teeth that morning.
“And I now you’re beaten,” Ty bleated joyfully. “I banish you from the farm!”
(At least, that’s what I think he said.)
And that is the story of how Ty the Peedie Goat out-stank Gerdila the Giantess. And he brags, and brags, and brags about it to this day.
This troll needs some hair, kids! Scribble it, doodle it, design it!
Name your troll and decide what kind of walloping troll it is…
Is it a sizzling Fire Troll with flaming red-hot hair? A Common Garden Troll with flowers and bumble-bees buzzing in and out of its curls? Or maybe it’s a Fishy Troll who goes around with a giant haddock stuck on its head and usually is up to no good?
Once you’ve decided, go ahead and doodle a magnificent hairdo!
Top Troll Tip: Trolls like to collect things so you can add all sorts of strange wonders into your hairstyle – think buttons, spiders, polo mints, daffodils, hamsters, cupcakes, twigs and a really special pet rock…
Neddle is a cheerful chappy. He loves long, meandering walks with his rambling stick. Whilst he’s holding his rambling stick, Neddle tends to talk on and on and on about feathers, mushrooms and the different types of duck-quacks.
Despite Neddle’s love of nature – and ducks – he absolutely loathes puddles. He can often be spotted yelling at one as he tiptoes past. Lochs are just ‘big ole puddles’ and are not to be trusted. As are ladybirds. They’re sneaky, apparently.
So if you’re out and about, walking in the countryside, lingering in a wood, hiking up a hill, be sure to say hello to all the little Neddles out there. Just don’t mention the weather, Neddle will point out every cloud in sight and explain it’s unique qualities in high detail. And as we know in Scotland, there’s a lot of clouds.
I hope everyone is getting into the swing of the 2020? I hope your luck is good, your spells work magic, and mostly you are not eaten by a wandering ogre. But there are worst ways to go. Like falling in the open mouth of a sleeping ogre and slowly drowning in his saliva.
Like dwarves, I struggle with New Year and the whole New Year Eve celebration. Unlike dwarves, I don’t hide in an underground lair and violently hammer silver into shining wee moons or gold into delicate little stars. I wish I did. Instead I eat a lot, cry a lot and moodily draw dozens on Auld Hags who are grumpier than me.
But what I really wish is that I could be more like the Auld Hags I doodle. They don’t care about New Year – they’ve seen thousands of them. They’ve seen more humans, more heroes, more wonders than they care to remember. They just care about cake. And strong, black coffee. Lemon drizzle is a winner. Weirdly, coffee cake is not. Especially if there’s a walnut lurking in there. That’s a no-no.
To be an Auld Hag, you have to be pretty ancient. And grumpy. And so full of magic, you don’t even have to think how to turn that horrible old human into a miserable old mushroom. It just happens. They’re pretty powerful but not always inclined to use their power.
When they do, they curse people. Slowly.
“By the powers, that be…. [lots of mumbling]… may you never have a pain-free elbow again.”
“By the powers of be…. [lots of grumbling]…. I demand the birds to poo on your car windows.”
“By the powers that be… [lots of mumbling, grumbling]…. may you never find that final episode of that really good TV show you liked with the huge cliffhanger.”
The last one’s a bit of a clumsy curse, but it’s ruthless.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to curse people. And neither do the Auld Hags really. They’re just super ancient and irritiable. But they know what they want. “Strong coffee, no milk. Chocolate chip cookie, no plate.” Whereas I’m still dithering over a cappucinno or hot chocolate or maybe even a passion fruit infused tea…? See, who’s more annoying?
So we could all be more Auld Hag minus the ill-wishing. (Unless they deserve it of course.)
May your 2020 be a good year full of scrummy cake, interesting new mushrooms and more ogre-awareness!