Chapter Two – The Colonel

I blog to get people to donate to kid’s charities. I don’t want money, I want you to donate direct to a children’s charity then write to me by commenting on the blog. Please read the ‘About Lesley’ section of the blog to find out why I do this; the Comments and Running Totals pages to see how far we have come….

I have written a couple of short stories on the blog so far but am now working on a larger project. This will take me some time but I wanted to share a little of this with everyone to get their opinions and any feedback you may feel like giving. This is a book for children and this is Chapter Two, Chapter One is already out there. Please be honest with me…..

The Ghosts of Misteldown Hall

Chapter Two – The Colonel

It was early on Saturday morning. Charlie had to go downstairs, he just wasn’t sure he was ready. He was washed and dressed but he had to get himself ready to face his grandfather, the old Colonel. The Colonel had been away for a week on business and had returned home late the previous night. Charlie wondered how his grandfather would greet him. He remembered his father’s words and was nervous. His grandfather seemed to be the key to something but what? There was only one way to find out. Charlie left his bedroom and walked down the long staircase.

Charlie opened the door to the Breakfast Room quietly and peeked in. There he sat reading some papers with his glasses halfway down  his nose and a very stern expression. ‘Good morning Grandfather’, said Charlie as he moved quickly to the breakfast dishes on the dresser. Charlie wasn’t very hungry but he picked up some eggs and toast and sat down near his grandfather. The whispers were there, very quiet but there were many voices buzzing in Charlie’s ears. Charlie could swear they were excited, he only wished he could make out what they said.

‘Good morning Charlie’, said the Colonel, ‘I thought you and I would spend the day together’. The eggs suddenly tasted like rubber and Charlie had to swallow hard. ‘Yes of course sir’, he replied. Breakfast was finished in silence as the Colonel returned to his papers. Charlie sat chewing on cardboard toast as he waited for his grandfather to tell him what would happen next. The Colonel slowly folded his papers, removed his glasses and finished his tea. He smiled across at Charlie and said, ‘Shall we take a walk in the grounds my boy?. They both stood and got ready to leave the house.

It was a beautiful morning as they walked away from the house. The birds were singing and the sun sparkled off the dew on the grass. Charlie and his grandfather trudged along quietly for a while and then the Colonel began to talk. ‘Did you know Charlie, that our family has lived here for over almost seven hundred years? This is the second house built on this land. My great-great-great-grandfather George started this house in 1740 but did not live to see it finished. His son William had to complete his father’s work. We have history here and it is our duty to protect and keep this land.’ ‘Do you know all the history about our family grandfather?’, asked Charlie. ‘I know a lot of it Charlie’, replied the old man, ‘but then I had wonderful teachers’. The Colonel smiled and Charlie felt that his grandfather was somewhere else for a little while. They walked in silence.

The Colonel began to speak again, almost as if to himself. Charlie had to listen really hard. ‘You may find some of this hard to believe Charlie but I must ask you to pay close attention. Our family has been here for many, many generations but before we settled there was a lot of conflict. Your ancestors were all brave men but the bravest was the first here, Arthur. He fought for his King bravely and was rewarded with this estate. He settled here and hoped for peace but that was not possible. There were too many who were jealous of his success. Arthur was threatened by many but the worst was Philip Townsley, he was an evil man. He plotted revenge against Arthur as he believed that he should have been rewarded by the King. This was nonsense of course, Townsley had not been brave in battle but he wanted the rewards due to others.’

‘Why would anyone do that Grandfather’, asked Charlie. He was puzzled that anyone would want to take what belonged to someone else. ‘It is hard to tell Charlie but there are people who will take what is not theirs. Philip Townsley was determined to take the land and any glory from Arthur. His chance came when Arthur was out hunting with only a few men. Philip and his men ambushed Arthur and killed his men. They took Arthur and tied him up so that Philip could gloat before he killed Arthur. Philip was so worked up by his success that he started to talk and shout. He cried how he would now be the Lord of this land and his family would prosper and grow while Arthur’s family would diminish into nothing. He was quite mad by now and cried out that Arthur would get no peace even in death. Philip cursed Arthur and said that Arthur and all his descendants would watch this misery for seven generations after their death so that their misery would last and last. With that he killed a good man with one strike of his sword.’

Charlie gasped. He was aghast and tears filled his eyes at the thought of his brave and good ancestor. ‘I know this is hard for you Charlie but there is more’, said the Colonel. Arthur had a son, Robert. He was young, only seventeen when Townsley killed his father. He had realised that something was wrong when his father had not returned from the hunt and went to look for his father with a few men. They arrived just as Townsley had killed Arthur and they attacked in cold, hard anger. Townsley and his men were felled where they stood. Robert ran to his father and wept over his body. He touched Arthur’s face and immediately heard his father’s voice telling him to be strong and take care of the family and all those people who depended on them.’

‘How do you know this story so well Grandfather?’ asked Charlie. The Colonel smiled. ‘This tale has passed in all it’s detail through all of our generations Charlie. You will know the history of our family as well as I do so that you can pass it on to your children and grandchildren.’ ‘But why will I do that sir?’ asked Charlie. ‘Why will I need to tell this tale?’. ‘So that you can explain the whispers’ the old man said quietly. He looked at Charlie with the softest expression. ‘All the whispers you hear Charlie, they are the voices of your ancestors. Townsley’s curse came true. When the men of this family die they do not leave us until seven generations have passed. You will meet them soon. Come now, time we returned you to your mother. Don’t worry, we will talk again soon’. Together the old man and the young boy silently made their way back to the manor house……….

End of Chapter Two © Lesley Miller 2010

So, there we go. I hope that Chapter Two has interested you and that you come back to me with any comments you may wish to make:)

I close with my normal request to you:-

• Donate to a valid children’s charity of your choice. It is easy to do – online, collection boxes, Give as You Earn. Any amount is important and I am delighted for one pound, dollar, euro, yen to reach a charity.

• Visit this blog and comment anywhere with the charity, amount including currency and please also tell me what you wanted to be when you were 8. I love the stories of childish ambitions.

I will then:-

• Add your donation to the Totals page on this blog, totals are updated weekly.
• I will also write some words about the current donations and the charity
• All comments will be stored on the comments page so that you can see what charities people are interested in and also what a variety of 8-year-old ambitions we have already. I am looking forward to way more surprises from you all.

The steps are simple. Again, if you like the idea please tell others so that they will come and tell me their stories.

Take care of you and yours.

Lesley

Chapter One – The Old House

I blog to get people to donate to kid’s charities. I don’t want money, I want you to donate direct to a children’s charity then write to me by commenting on the blog. Please read the ‘About Lesley’ section of the blog to find out why I do this; the Comments and Running Totals pages to see how far we have come….

I have written a couple of short stories on the blog so far but am now working on a larger project. This will take me some time but I wanted to share a little of this with everyone to get their opinions and any feedback you may feel like giving. This is a book for children and this is the first chapter! I am very nervous about this; it is a real departure for me but I know that regular readers of the blog won’t be afraid to be honest with me:)

The Ghosts of Misteldown Hall

Chapter One – The Old House

Charlie tossed in the lumpy old bed. He wanted to be back in his own house and in his own soft bed. His mother had taken him away from London in such a rush that Charlie’s head was still spinning. His whole life had been turned upside-down over the last month. Firstly, war had been declared on August 4th, 1914. The announcement had been talked about at school and he and his friends agreed that their parents couldn’t talk about anything else. The annoying thing was that every time one of them walked into the room the conversation would stop.

The day after war was declared, Charlie’s father enlisted. He had of course joined the Duke of Cornwall’s Light Infantry as he was Cornish born and bred. He was now Major Charles Simpson-Hoy and had waved goodbye to Charlie and his mother only two weeks ago. Charlie missed his father, he was scared that he wouldn’t get to see him again. Charlie knew that he and his mother were now in Cornwall at his father’s insistence. Major Simpson-Hoy wanted to know that his wife and child would be safe with his father, the old Colonel. So Charlie and his mother had made this rushed journey to Mistledown Hall or the ‘old house’ as it was known.

Charlie thought back to the conversation he had with his father the night before the Major left. His father had come to see him as he got ready for bed. Charlie hadn’t wanted to go to bed, he knew his father was leaving early the next day and wanted to spend every last moment with him. However, the Major was firm and escorted Charlie to his room but rather than kissing Charlie goodnight he sat down.

‘I need to talk to you Charlie’, said the Major. ‘I want you to listen very carefully to me, this is very important. What I tell you now will be confusing but you must remember this for me’. Charlie saw that his father was serious and nodded so he would continue. ‘I know that you would prefer to stay in London but I need you to go to Cornwall and be with your grandfather. You need to spend time with him, you need to get to know him better’.

Charlie was puzzled by the expression on his father’s face, it was very sombre and perhaps fearful? ‘I don’t understand Father, does Grandfather want to get to know me? He scares me a little, he has always ignored me when we have visited’.’Your grandfather loves you Charlie, you may think you have been ignored but he has watched you closely. This is what he does and what he has to do. Now is the time that he will want to get to know you. I have written to my father, he knows you are on your way and he will be waiting for you’.

‘What do you mean Father? said Charlie. ‘I am sorry I can’t say more Charlie’, said the Major. ‘I am going to war, we both know I have to. War is a horror and many will not come home. I may not come home. Please just know this, our family is not like others. There are secrets you will learn and secrets you will have to keep. Sleep now and know that I love you and will always have you in my heart’. With that his father kissed him and left. Charlie lay quietly for a long while before he slept.

The next day his mother had been sad but determined and had organised the packing up of the house. Within two days they were on their way. Charlie wanted to talk to his mother about his last conversation with the Major but somehow he knew he shouldn’t. So he just tried to help with the packing and to make his mother smile.

The old house was almost 300 years old, a large manor house. There were 12 bedrooms, 6 large reception rooms and servants quarters at the top of the house. There were corridors and passages and even some secret stairways. It was a great house for exploring when Charlie went to visit but living there for years was going to be something different. Charlie missed his friends and his own room in London. Charlie was about to start the local school and he was nervous. He was the boy from the ‘old house’ and he knew the local boys and girls would think he was ‘a toff’. Charlie knew he wasn’t but he didn’t look forward to convincing everyone else of that.

But there was something else that disturbed Charlie most of all. The whispers. Everywhere Charlie went he could hear something or someone. It was like an echo of a whisper, every time Charlie thought he could just make out what was being said it would disappear as if in a breeze. Charlie wondered if anyone else could hear the whispers? The Colonel had a staff of 8 in the house and Charlie had known them all his life. His favourite person was Hitchings the butler who had always been very kind to Charlie. Charlie wondered if he should talk to Hitchings but was worried that he would think Charlie was quite mad. So Charlie kept quiet but he listened and watched, especially if the whispers began when he was with someone else………

End of Chapter One © Lesley Miller 2010

So, there we go. I hope that Chapter One has taken your interest and that you come back to me with any comments you may wish to make:)

I close with my normal request to you:-

• Donate to a valid children’s charity of your choice. It is easy to do – online, collection boxes, Give as You Earn. Any amount is important and I am delighted for one pound, dollar, euro, yen to reach a charity.

• Visit this blog and comment anywhere with the charity, amount including currency and please also tell me what you wanted to be when you were 8. I love the stories of childish ambitions.

I will then:-

• Add your donation to the Totals page on this blog, totals are updated weekly.
• I will also write some words about the current donations and the charity
• All comments will be stored on the comments page so that you can see what charities people are interested in and also what a variety of 8-year-old ambitions we have already. I am looking forward to way more surprises from you all.

The steps are simple. Again, if you like the idea please tell others so that they will come and tell me their stories.

Take care of you and yours.

Lesley

Remember…..

I normally blog to get people to donate to kid’s charities but not today. I wanted to write about remembrance today. Today is Remembrance Sunday, the day when Britain and many Commonwealth countries commemorate those who died during conflicts since World War One, both armed forces and civilians. It is right to remember those who lost their lives during conflict. Even if you don’t agree with the policy that brings a conflict about those who serve should be honoured. They risk life and health on the behalf of others.

I don’t like conflict, I suppose that is fairly obvious to those who read this blog. However, I am not naive enough to think that there should never be wars. I abhor it but war can be necessary and today is the day to remember those who are no longer with us.

Blogging is a personal thing and I wanted to write about my strongest memory of Remembrance. I have been to the Somme battlefields. Six of us planned a two day visit some years ago before a trip to Paris to watch Ireland play France at the rugby. It may seem a bit incongruous to mention rugby in this post but please be patient.

We started off in Albert and the Somme Museum in the underground tunnels. They have equipment, uniforms, letters from the ‘Great War’. I was struck by how small the boots were and the narrow shoulders of the jackets; some seemed more like childrens clothing than those belonging to grown men. We then drove through beautiful countryside to visit the memorial sites.

I will write about a few places that have stayed with me. Firstly, The Newfoundland Memorial of Beaumont-Hamel. This is an amazing place which commemorates the participation of the Newfoundland Regiment during the Battle of the Somme. They have preserved the trench system so that visitors can get some impression of how it was at the time. I was surprised they were so shallow and it seemed to me that they would not have provided much shelter or protection but they were all those poor boys had. The first day of the battle, July 1st, 1916, saw the Newfoundlanders decimated, over three quarters of the regiment were killed or wounded, only 68 men survived unscathed. Within the site there stands a great bronze caribou stag, the emblem of the Newfoundland Regiment. The vistors centre traces the history of the Royal Newfoundland Regiment from its formation in 1914 to the end of the First World War. When you walk through this centre and read the stories of some of the men and their families you cannot help but feel moved….

We also visited the Thiepval Memorial. This site commemorates almost 73,000 soldiers who lost their lives and have no known grave. The Memorial itself is striking, as you make your way towards it you are struck by the scale of the structure. You then walk slowly around the memorial reading name after name of those who have no recognised grave.

Courtesy of Chris Hartford

What stays with me was the sense of peace I found here. It was quiet, the only sound I heard as I walked around the gravestones was one bird singing far off in the distance. I had felt some trepidation about visiting the Somme battlefields and memorials, I was certain that I would find it oppressive. However, the opposite was true. I felt truly honoured to be there and was glad that I had the chance to pay my respects to those who had fallen.

We visited many other sites during our visit. You may find this strange but I found it heartwarming to see the small graveyards that you pass as you travel through the countryside. We stopped at some of the smaller sites that do not have large memorials as it felt right to honour those who lie there. They are all beautifully maintained and this is fitting.

I will mention the rugby as I close. We went to the Stade Francais to watch Ireland get beaten by France – again. However, what I remember most about that day was the attendance figures for the match were given as over 78,000. Over 57,000 Allied troops were killed or wounded on the first day of the Battle of the Somme. I looked around the stadium that day and tried to imagine three quarters of the cheering crowd as dead or wounded. That is the image that stays with me always………

Take care of you and yours.

Lesley

The Newfoundland Memorial of Beaumont-Hamel commemorates the participation of the Newfoundland Regiment during the Battle of the Somme

Comfort?

I blog to get people to donate to kid’s charities. I don’t want money, I want you to donate direct to a children’s charity then write to me by commenting on the blog. Please read the ‘About Lesley’ section of the blog to find out why I do this; the Comments and Running Totals pages to see how far we have come….

I cooked today. Nothing new there but I cooked one of my favourite dishes from childhood, broth. There is something about making a large pot of broth that comforts me nearly as much as eating it. At the risk of coming over all Nigel Slater (and that is something I am happy to be for a while), there is a joy in peeling and chopping when you can see, smell and taste the final result in your mind.

If you have read the blog before you will know I am from Northern Ireland and we have many popular dishes that are pretty unique to us. The recipes for champ, potato bread (aka fadge!) and soda bread are all pretty standard. However, when it comes to Irish Stew and broth family traditions are followed. Some make their stew with lamb or mutton, I make mine with shin of beef. When it comes to broth I have to follow my mother and use ‘our’ traditional ingredients.

This is not a cooking blog but this is one recipe I will share with you. If you chance to make this then I hope you enjoy the end result as much as I do……

To start you need chicken stock. If you have a chicken carcass then place it in a very large pot, cover in cold water and season with salt and pepper. Bring to the boil and simmer for about an hour. Strain the stock and you  have the basis of your soup; wash your very large pot and return the stock as this recipe will make a large pot! If you don’t have a chicken carcass then use some decent quality ready-made stock.

Once you have your stock then the chopping begins. I will give some instruction on the quantities but if you make this a few times you will know what balance you want to achieve with your broth. This is good, broth is a personal thing and  should end up how you want it.

Bring the stock back up to a good simmer and add 3 chopped onions. Then come the peas and soup mix that will give a real substance to the broth. You will need a cup and a half of soup mix and a cup of non-soak dried peas. You can use the peas that require soaking, the only thing you have to remember is that they need to soak for a few hours before you start. Some of you may be asking at this point what soup mix is. Soup mix consists of barley, lentils and small split peas and adds flavour and oomph to the broth.

Once you have added the onions and soup mix leave to simmer for about 30 minutes. I use this time to prepare the rest of the vegetables and herbs to be added. Be warned, you are about the enter the chopping zone!

You will now need – carrots, parnsips, leeks, parsley and celery. I use 4 large carrots, 3 large parsnips, 3-4 leeks depending on size and a large bunch each of parsley and ‘baby’ celery. If you can’t get the young leafy celery then use 3 stalks of celery but chop quite finely. Chop the carrots, parsnips and leeks into medium pieces. Chop the parsley and baby celery finely; I use only the parsley ‘flowers’ but like to use the baby celery stalks as well as the leaves as they add real flavour.

Once the 30 minutes have passed add in all the above and bring back to a simmer. Add more water during this time if you feel the broth is too thick, again a matter of personal taste. In about another 30 minutes when the vegetables are tender your broth is ready and it will be mighty fine.

Then comes the eating, bliss! I will eat the broth as it comes but you may like to have hot crusty bread. Others love to add boiled potatoes to the broth as well; another good option. The best thing of all? Broth is always better on the second day if it lasts that long. The flavours come together and it will warm you from tip to toe. It may not look Michelin starred but for me, it has the taste that takes me back to childhood and will always bring me solace…..

We all have things that take us back to childhood in the best way and this is one of mine. Making and eating this lovely broth will always make me smile. Sometimes we need to smile and when I do I will make this. I am keen to hear what takes you back and makes you smile; perhaps you will come and tell me?

I close with my normal request to you:-

• Donate to a valid children’s charity of your choice. It is easy to do – online, collection boxes, Give as You Earn. Any amount is important and I am delighted for one pound, dollar, euro, yen to reach a charity.

• Visit this blog and comment anywhere with the charity, amount including currency and please also tell me what you wanted to be when you were 8. I love the stories of childish ambitions.

I will then:-

• Add your donation to the Totals page on this blog, totals are updated weekly.
• I will also write some words about the current donations and the charity
• All comments will be stored on the comments page so that you can see what charities people are interested in and also what a variety of 8-year-old ambitions we have already. I am looking forward to way more surprises from you all.

The steps are simple. Again, if you like the idea please tell others so that they will come and tell me their stories.

Take care of you and yours.

Lesley

Spooked!

I blog to get people to donate to kid’s charities. I don’t want money, I want you to donate direct to a children’s charity then write to me by commenting on the blog. Please read the ‘About Lesley’ section of the blog to find out why I do this; the Comments and Running Totals pages to see how far we have come….

Having ‘had a bash’ with a story on Star Wars, Unicorn and Platypus, I thought that I should do a short children’s story for Hallow’een!

Tonight, we will tell the tale of Griswald the kindly demon. Everyone may think that demons are horrible but there is always one exception who proves the rule. Our exception was Griswald. All Griswald wanted to do was make people smile and that is not a talent that comes naturally to a demon who looks like this:-

Courtesy of Download-Free-Pictures.com

Griswald had a hard life, his family all thought he was quite mad! Demons are supposed to creep up behind the nasty humans, give a bloodcurdling scream and scare their souls clean out of them. Griswald merely walked up to the humans and said hello! The only problem he had was that saying hello often scared the souls from the humans anyway…..

This was the only thing that stopped Griswald being banished from his demon family but it made Griswald very sad. What was he to do? He wanted to make people smile and make some friends but every time he tried they were frightened to death and the deadly demons gathered another soul. It was so depressing that Griswald decided that he wasn’t leaving his demon hovel any more. He decided that he would rather stay at home than hurt another lovely human.

But this was not going to make his family happy. There are rules that all demons need to follow. They need to scare people and collect their souls so that they can keep their demon status. All demons have to meet their scare targets; if you don’t scare enough nasty humans then you are sent to Oblivion. Oblivion is not a nice place for a demon, the demon grannies have horrible tales of Oblivion. It is a place where you can only eat cakes, ice-cream and jelly! No demon wants ice-cream and jelly, they want caterpillars and beetles with mealworms sprinkled on the top. And why would any normal demon want to live in a place where there were warm and plumped-up cushions to sit on? All demons like to sit on a comfy jagged rock, everyone knew that.

The family decided to sit down and have a chat with Griswald as they were worried the scare-numbers were down. They pleaded with Griswald to think of the family. It didn’t matter that Griswald wanted everone to smile, that wasn’t going to save them from jelly and ice-cream. They finally persuaded Griswald that he must go out on Halloween, it was the busiest night of the year after all.

Poor Griswald, he was torn between wanting to make the lovely humans happy and not letting his family down. They were terrified of Oblivion, it was all pink and fluffy and Griswald knew that his family would not do well in a place like that.

So, with a heavy heart Griswald got ready for his Halloween hunting. He put on his best scowl and headed out the door of the hovel. Of course, being Halloween the humans were everywhere. They were all dressed up for trick or treating in their scariest costumes. There were devils, skeletons, ghouls and ghosties everywhere. It was very easy for a demon to fit in on a night last this.

Griswald knew what he had to do, he had to scare the soul from three humans to make sure that his family would be saved from the horror of Oblivion for another year. But how to do this? Griswald knew in his heart that this was not the life for him but he could not see that he could do anything else. This was what he was born to do, what he was meant to do. How could one small demon fight against his family and his fate?

Poor Griswald walked and walked through the crowds of children and their parents. He was so confused. He didn’t notice the little girl with red hair watching him. Her name was Esme and she was watching the sad demon as he wandered through the crowds. Esme was puzzled as he didn’t even see the fireworks that were going off in bright bursts of colour. There were reds, blues and magnificent gold trails flashing through the sky and everyone else was ooohing and aaahing as the sky lit up and the faces in the crowd glowed with smiles and the reflection of the glittering shower.

Esme looked at Griswald and was sad. How could anyone look so sad when it was Halloween? Esme was wearing her favourite angel costume with extra-large wings and she was as happy as happy could be until she saw the unhappy demon. Esme decided that the sad demon needed a hug, that was what her mum gave her when she felt sad and it always cheered her up, especially when there was a kiss to go with it.

Griswald was standing still. He watched the fireworks but didn’t see them. His mind was caught inside the struggle between hurting people and making his family happy. He didn’t notice the little red-haired girl coming towards him with a very determined look on her face. Esme stood in front of Griswald, smiled and said hello. Griswald looked down and saw a little angel and was sadder again; how could he scare the soul from her? Esme smiled again, reached up and hugged Griswald. With this, Griswald felt very strange. There was a lump in his throat and his eyes stung. Then Esme reached up, pulled him down and kissed him on the cheek. Griswald was taken by surprise, no-one had ever kissed him before. It was a weird sensation as the warmth spread from his cheek and down through his body. Something was happening and Griswald wasn’t sure what.

Griswald looked at his hands, they weren’t green like they should be. They were turning pale and the nails weren’t hooked, they were small and smooth. What was this? Esme was still standing in front of him and her face showed how puzzled she was. Esme asked, ‘Who are you, you aren’t a monster any more?’. Griswald asked, ‘What do you mean?’. ‘You look like a boy, where is your costume, where did it go?’.

Griswald looked at his hands, his legs, his whole body. He wasn’t green any more and he was all smooth! And his brain was playing tricks on him, he knew his name wasn’t Griswald, his name was Mike! He wasn’t a demon, he was a boy and his name was Mike……..

Suddenly he remembered a home with a mum, a dad and a dog named Buster. He had been a happy boy with a family who loved him. Then one night he had seen the demons and he had been taken. They had worked their evil magic and he became Griswald. That was why he didn’t want to scare the humans, he was one! Mike knew who he was and where he should be.

He gave Esme a huge hug and told her how she had saved him. Mike knew what he had to do next. He looked through the crowds, there was always a policeman at the fireworks display and Mike knew he had to find him. He walked through the crowds again but this time as a boy, not as a demon. It was a wonderful feeling, he didn’t have to scare anyone, he just had to not feel so scared himself.

You know what happened next don’t you? Mike found a policeman and they found his family. Mike was reunited with his mum, his dad and his dog Buster. He went home and he knew this was the right place, he was home. Everything was right and Mike could smile and be happy again. He did make a new friend after all, Esme became his best friend in the world as she saved him and helped him get home.

As for the demons? I am sorry to say that they replaced Mike very quickly with another little boy. This is what happens when you have quotas to meet so that you will not end up in Oblivion and have to eat ice-cream and jelly! So, be warned, always watch out for the demons behind you, especially at Halloween……..

I do hope that my story for Halloween entertained you and your children. I close with my normal request to you:-

• Donate to a valid children’s charity of your choice. It is easy to do – online, collection boxes, Give as You Earn. Any amount is important and I am delighted for one pound, dollar, euro, yen to reach a charity.

• Visit this blog and comment anywhere with the charity, amount including currency and please also tell me what you wanted to be when you were 8. I love the stories of childish ambitions.

I will then:-

• Add your donation to the Totals page on this blog, totals are updated weekly.
• I will also write some words about the current donations and the charity
• All comments will be stored on the comments page so that you can see what charities people are interested in and also what a variety of 8-year-old ambitions we have already. I am looking forward to way more surprises from you all.

The steps are simple. Again, if you like the idea please tell others so that they will come and tell me their stories.

Take care of you and yours.

Lesley

© Lesley Miller 2010