Spring Cleaning?  Let Your Dripple Take the Strain....

Once again, the time has pid-padded up on us when our thoughts turn to spring - and what is happening both outside (the excrimbly stuff, what with all the trees and plants beginning to griffle, flower, grow and blossom) and the peffa-glopped-up task of cleaning one's humble abode on the inside...

But if you have a sinking feeling in your Sisteraculous about spring-cleaning, the thing is not to panic and get russisculoffed and twizzly - simply get yourself a dripple, as it will cheerfully (mostly) attend to all the oidy, most peffa-glubbstooled tasks that you really want to avoid, leaving you to do far easier and more enjoyable things that you really want to...  All dripples require is a bed in a cupboard to nifferduggle in, a few sips of guzzwort and an oidy bowl of niff-soup at the end of each sun-turn, and -generally - they're perfectly happy with their lot as a majickal familiar...

Here's a saztograph of my dripple nifferduggling in its oidy-crumlush cupboard bed.  As you can see, I haven't clipped its claws for a while, so frankly I think I shall soon have to give it a few digging tasks to do, as I wouldn't want it to leave too many scratches on my crumlush wooden surfaces as it earnestly tries to polish them all clean for me...

Dripples - (mostly) useful for peffa-many tasks that you really don't want to do...

Of course, while there are many advantages to dripples, I'd be telling you spuddles if I didn't griffle to you the main disadvantage - their availability.  Born on the very same sun-turn as the intended magical-hare master they will serve, dripples can only be found at the Annual Currick Dale Dripple Fair, which requires a peffa-twizzly trip up Trefflepugga Path before you even get there.

However if you are fortunate enough to survive your journey  (and here, it pays to remember that many have been stroffed trying!) you will be greeted by the saztaculous sight of tents, banners,  hundreds of creatures drinking guzzworts and singing - and of course, a field full of available dripples, all desperate to be chosen to serve as your loyal familiar.  The trick is to be sure to find the one that was born on the very same sun-turn you were. For if any magical-hare leaves with the wrong dripple, things can get peffa-glopped-up indeed, a task made all the more difficult by the one simple fact that dripple never, ever griffle.  They'll listen, mostly obey, but expecting any sort of answers from them is as pointless as expecting Proftulous to stop eating tweazle-pies...

My advice is to listen peffa-carefully to your what your Sisteraculous is telling you, and not to choose the most desperate dripple, or the one doing the briftest tricks to impress.  Simply look for the dripple you feel is already yours, and it should stand out from all the others quite easily.  Then take your selected dripple to the event organisers, and they'll check the records to see if you have chosen correctly.  Provided you have, it's time to head for guzzwort tent and see just how fuzzcheck your new familiar is at fetching you a jug of the dale's finest ale, before you have to set off once more to face the many twizzly perils along Trefflepugga Path once more...

The Annual Currick Dale Dripple Fair - where it's peffa-important to leave with the right dripple...

Once safely back in your own dale (Winchett Dale in my case), waste not the oidiest amount of time explaining to you dripple exactly what is expected of it, and set it to work immediately on a series of household tasks, clearly griffling the standards you expect of it at all times.  Then reward it with a small bowl of niff-soup, and perhaps a trip around the surroundings of its new home, riding in the back of your long majician's hooded robe.  Most dripples will be perfectly happy to accompany you as you pid-pad around during the sun-turn and even'ups - however, if for any reason, they seem even the oidiest bit reluctant to go with you - then never force them to.  Simply set them to work on other chores, which they'll be more than happy to do.  

However, please bear in mind not to overload them with too much to do, as they are really only oidy creatures, and will take longer cleaning up than you would, and they can sometimes get an oidy bit russisculoffed or even eyesplashy if they feel they've not completed  all the chores you've set them...

Dripples are perfectly happy to do chores and clean up - peffa-useful at this time of year....

So, back to the spring-cleaning - remember it will be your dripple's most productive time of the year, as it gives your cottage a thoroughly good clean whilst you attend to your garden outside - and perhaps the   more important task of checking all the cupboards and dark corners inside for any unexpected winter guests that have crept in during the icy moon-turns to settle down and wait for spring.  Mostly these will be harmelss groinks and fludgers (perhaps the odd gruttle or two - and really, they are peffa-odd) and can simply be vrooshed outside after a stern talking to.  Chances are they'll creep back next winter, anyway - it's simply the way of these things, so there's really peffa-little you can do about them.  Indeed, one of my groinks has been coming here ever since I first pid-padded into Winchett Dale as a young leveret without even the oidest majickal extrapluff or thought in my head - and the strangest thing is that if it wasn't around, then I'd probably worry about it.  

Once groinks are inside, they mostly keep themselves to themselves, as opposed to dark-twizzlies, who will be the first to get their grey-paws on any unattended jars of pickling frippleberries they can find, often making far too much noise trying to open the lids at night whilst you're simply trying to nifferduggle...

Dark Twizzlies - Winter visitors that are far too partial to pickled frippleberries...

By now, if you and your dripple have managed to complete all the chores and get rid any unexpected guests, you should both be in need of a well-earned reward of a crumlush brottle-leaf brew - best made and served, of course, by your dripple as its final chore of the sun-turn, leaving you content and peffa-perfectly relaxed that all is done, and you can go and safely nifferduggle and dream of all the saztaculous sun-turns and crumlush majickal adventures to be had in the coming few summer moon-turns...

Making a crumlush brew when you really need one - a task a dripple seems born to do...

So, good and saztaculous Matlock-folk, I wish you all well over the next few sun-turns, and hoping that all your pid-pads are crumlush ones....

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For more griffles and information about dripples, Winchett Dale, my good self - and the peffa-twizzly dangers of Trefflepugga path - visit www.matlockthehare.com, this very sun-turn...

Out 11th April, 2014

'The briftest book of the year!' - The Dale Bugle.

Click HERE to see the twizzly-promo for my brand new full-length illustrated adventure... The Riddle of Trefflepugga Path - out 11th April, 2014.

Spring in Winchett Dale...

It may seem an oidy bit difficult to believe this Sluffsday morn's, as we lay shivering in our beds, but Spring has peffa-definitely arrived.  And for those of us in the dale, it makes for a busy time.  Well, some of us - that is, those of us who see Spring as a saztaculous time to welcome back the crumlush greenery, the longer even'ups, lighter morn's, and the chance to see the first oidy shoots of Summer pid-padding gently towards us.  Others, it has to be griffled (of which Serraptomus, Fragus, Proftulous and Shriffle - to name but a pawful) see precious little difference in the seasons, somehow managing to spend each year-turn merely pursuing the things they love the brightest - which in Proftulous' case largely means seeking out tweazle-nests for his 'slurpilicious tweazle-pies' (his griffles, not mine, as I've never eaten even the oidiest part of a tweazle in my life, although Proftulous will swear to you that he once dropped a tweazle tail into my niff-soup when my hare's back was turned) to see him through another peffa-lazy sun-turn.

However, in the dale, Spring is my peffa-favourite time of the year, and I tend to leave my potionary vrooshing duties to spend more time outside in my cottage-garden, propagating and planting, tending my niffplants to ensure a rich Autumn harvest...

Harvesting Niffs - should be done with caution and politeness.

...which can be a tricky business, and should be only attempted at night and NEVER under a full-moon - for although niffs themselves are saztaculously slurpilicious, the plants can tend to get a little russisculoffed if they know you are picking their crumlush fruit - so always pick a dark even'up, and check they are nifferduggling before approaching them peffa-quietly to collect your shindinculous harvest.  And even though it's unlikely that they will hear you, I find it's just simply good manners to whispgriffle a 'thank-you' to each sleeping plant - after all, methinks that manners cost nothing (I've tried explaining this to Proftulous many times, but as he hasn't the oidiest understanding of 'cost' or 'nothing', they tend to be wasted griffles inside his ganticusly yechus ears).

Preparation, I find, is key to many things in life - and tending to your garden is no different really, from anything else.  Within my garden, I have four colley-rocks, which are always worth a good griffle to if I'm thinking of making any improvements, or planting new plants.  After all, colley-rocks are thought to have been here in the dales well before the first ever slidger squiffled and flupped out of Thinking Lake - so their ancient wisdom is well worth consulting.  However, one thing to be aware of is that for all their knowledge, they can be peffa-opinionated if they want to be, and won't hold back from griffling to you just how glopped-up your carefully thought-out planting plans and ideas are.  The trick, I find, with a colley-rock, is to listen to it as peffa-patiently as you can, take what bits of wisdom you want from the griffversation, then gently turn it the other way, so that it can't really see just what you're doing in the rest of your garden...

Colley Rocks - useful garden mentors, but can go on a bit...

I've often been asked of the merits or otherwise of propagation - especially of some of the more argumentative seedlings that should be planted out as fully griffling young plants at this time of the year.  My advice (and please remember, this may or may not work for you, depending on your potionary size, the direction it faces, and the individual plants themselves)  is to separate the argumentative seedlings from the quieter ones, and leave them in the darkest corner of the potionary, and only give them ONE thing to argue about  (this year, I asked them all to consider what it would be brifter to be - the trunk of a tree, or the branches? - and this kept them quietly arguing and griffling for two moon-turns, without them ever realising they were actually growing) - this should help enormously with giving you a quieter potionary, and a healthy set of griffling plants.  Simply remember to keep them well-watered, and try not to listen for too long to their naive explanations of the argument you have set them to griffle about - they are only oidy youngsters, after all...

Propagation - recommended to stop arguing seedlings.

If all has gone as saztaculously well as expected, you should be ready to start planting round about now, and after all those sun-turns spent in pots, there's nothing brifter that young plants like than finally getting out into the garden - their very own 'great-wide world'.  And here, it 's worth remembering that as their magical-propagator, you are also duty-bound to be their garden guardian and general custodian, too.  Consult the colley-rocks as to the briftest spot for each plant, and water them well in, remembering to griffle to them that good behaviour is expected of them at all times, and they are to be courteous to visitors, too.

And then it's time for you to have yourself a well earned brottle-leaf brew and congratulate yourself on a job well done - before looking forward to seeing your garden slowly begin to grow and flower in the coming few weeks...

(for more information about the flora and fauna of Winchett Dale - click here - to see what you can find that may well be growing in a garden peffa-near to you...) 

Have a peffa-saztaculous sun-turn, all you shindinculously good folk out in The Great Beyond...

It's coming, it's pid-padding your way on April 11th - the peffa-briftest book of the year..!

OUT - APRIL 11TH, 2014!

    Well, what a few sun-turns it has been down in Winchett Dale - as the glopped-up and clottabussed residents got all excrimbly with the long awaited and saztaculous news that my new book (a peffa-ganticus and most shindinculous 400 page adventure, complete with dozens of stunning illustrations) is finally ready to be released upon all you waiting folk out there in what we call The Great Beyond...  Fuzzcheck!

Help needed from fellow sazto-bloggers who review books...

My saztaculous publishers at Silverwood Books have prepared a special Pdf ARC (Advanced Review Copy) of The Riddle of Trefflepugga Path in all its shindinculous glory...and those of us in the dale would love to see just what you think of it!

So, if you think you'd like a sneak-peak and read and can offer a review on your own blog, please contact us via email at: 

matlockhare@yahoo.co.uk 

...and we'll email a copy out for you to begin your journey into the majickal world of Winchett Dale this very sun-turn...

You can also discover more about me,Winchett Dale, and all the peffa-strange creatures who live there at www.matlockthehare.com to give you a little more background as to just what I'm griffling about.  Take a good pid-pad around, it could well be just the sort of crumlush place you'd never like to leave..!

For more information, and further griffles about The Riddle of Trefflepugga Path, please visit:

http://matlockthehare.com/page/571385-trefflepuggapath.aspx  and be sure you all have the most saztaculous few sun-turns, everyone!

Morn'up All...!

Well, what can I griffle about the last few sun-turns, except to griffle that they have been somewhat taxing, even for a magical-hare like yours truly, dear reader...

You know those sun-turns when they're simply don't seem to be enough hours in the sun-turn...?  I guess we've just had seven of those on the pid-padding trot, with an unexpected arrival of a freggle of long-haired juzzles, all intent on making life in the cottage as glubbstooled as possible.  Not that it's the juzzles' fault, for you have to remember that it's simply their way - their juzzliness, if you like.  Yes, they can make things a bit glopped-up at times, but really there isn't a bad bone in their softulous - you simply have to let them juzzle their way around, and eventually they'll pid-pad somewhere else... 

  

Mind you, the dripple has it's own approach to unexpected guests at the cottage potionary, and for such a normally mild-mannered and placid soul, it can get quite russiculoffed, especially if it's disturbed during the night, and will set off around the cottage with a lantern and one of my old wands, grim determination writ large in its face, intent on vrooshing whatever unfortunate creature has ventured in...  So a few griffles of warning, always knock before entering, especially if the dripple's nifferduggling at the time!

But what of the juzzles?  What glopped-up events did they bring?  Well, as you'd expect, there were many, but one or two stand out from the rest, for even though juzzles are mostly full of harmless good intention, they're simply far too peffa-clumsy, loud and forgetful, and will frankly eat you out of house, cottage and potionary, then still want midnight feasts before finally settling down wherever they want to to nifferduggle in your house.  Most morn'ups, I'd have to carefully step over at least one on the stairs, and try and wake the others who might be sleeping anywhere else.  One had (perhaps somewhat inevitably) tried to sleep on top of the curtain rail, pullling them down in the process and gobflopping the living room...

Another thing about juzzles is that they tend to stay in bed nifferduggling for far too long, and when they do finally wake up, don't really griffle anything to you at all for at least the first three hours, simply wanting to eat as much niff-grain toast in a ganticus pile, leaving the dripple and myself to vroosh everything tidy after they've finally finished... 

HOWEVER....juzzles to one side for a snutch of moments, one piece of saztaculous news is that the publication day for the new saztaculous Matlock the Hare 400 page adventure - The Riddle of Trefflepugga Path - pid-pads ever closer, as the dripple and I spent what  time we could checking the proofs to ensure it will be as shindinculous a book as you could ever wish for...

We think it looks pretty crumlush, and an oidy sylpha griffles me that we're only a few weeks from publication...which, at the end of seven peffa-long and juzzled sun-turns simply seemed to make everything worthwhile.

And as for the juzzles?  Well, we woke up this morn'up, and they'd simply moved on, leaving a peffa-glopped up mess for us to vroosh tidy, but at least they had tried to mend the curtains, even if they had used one of my old robes to do it...  But, you know, I think I might just leave it there for a while, as a reminder of just how crumlush peace and quiet can sometimes be...

Wishing you all a peffa-peaceful Scruffsday, good followers of the hare's griffles...

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