Festive Friday Filk: Dr Who Regeneration Carol
HAPPY FRIDAY! Yikes, sorry I fell off the Friday Filk wagon the last two weeks – having realised that the majority of my filk lyrics are on Handles (If you’ve been with me long enough you’ll know that Handles is the name of my old laptop who died and regenerated so very many times before he finally gave up the ghost, taking with him many of my files) XD
But it’s festivish time and so I have decided instead to share some of the tons of festive filk that is out there to bring some quirky cheer the the tinselly season! đ
#MythpunkMonday: The Road Back Lost
Happy #MythpunkMonday! Last month we talked about the power of Mythpunk, this week I’m going to ask how we wield that power responsibly – or if we even need to? I’m going to look at one particular Mythpunk song by my favourite singer/songwriter, talk about my own journey in Mythpunkery and give you a little snippet of one of my own Mythpunk stories.
So, last week we looked at the power of myth and the importance of Mythpunk as a subversive form that can challenge mainstream culture and instigate social change.
That makes Mythpunk powerful too and â as all us true geeks know â ‘with great power comes great responsibility’ (cheesy but true, guys, cheesey but true!)
So what responsibility do Mythpunk creators have and to who?
It’s not an easy question and the answer is likely to be a very personal one for all of us â different for each punk who puts pen to parchment. But I think it’s vital for us all to consider and to create ongoing discourse around this point.
From my own point of view, I came to Mythpunk (although I wasn’t aware of the phrase at the time) feeling as though I wanted to bite back at the restrictive, prejudiced, tired and boring old tales I had grown up hearing. I was carrying fire in my blood and in my head and it flowed out through my pen in rage against the morals and values inherent in those tales, all of which seemed to say that ‘people like me’ were not acceptable, could not be heroes, needed either rescuing or destroying and would certainly get our comeuppance one day … etc etc.
So I wrote to bite back, I wrote to destroy and obliterate and to replace all that ancient, old hat, prejudiced nonsense (as I saw it) with my own values, morals and world-view.
As I got older, I learned a revelation that made me stop and think. It didn’t make me regret what I’d written before, but it did make me proceed from that point onwards in a different way… I learnt the history of my people â a history which my family had been forced to hide from us because of deep rooted and continued prejudice against our people, a history which, I now realise, had been partly encrypted in story and song and passed down through generations in the hope that one day we would understand… and here I was taking a scythe to it all in anger.
Worse still, I soon found â as I now hungrily hunted for more stories, myths, tales, legends and songs which would tell me more about our culture and history – I came up blank ; most of it has been lost and what remains has been twisted and manipulated (not ‘punked’ which is something quite different) out of all recognition by other cultures in order to maintain the myth of the ‘Gypsy Creature’ by people who are not even Romany.
I felt hurt and lost and angry and guilty and very many other things as well and eventually those feelings lead me to write Mulengi Sinija (a tale of cultural appropriation and white-washing which shows how a less powerful culture can be forced to hide themselves while the dominant culture wears their clothing and beliefs like an exotic mask, until eventually the grandchildren of the less dominant culture have forgotten who they are. ) and also The Road Back Lost, which I’m going to share an exert of today.
So after that point I decided that although there really were parts of my culture that needed to evolve, so much had been lost that I wanted my Mythpunk to focus on preserving the good, the beautiful, wise and historic aspects to make tales worthy of passing on to my own children.
I’m still on uncomfortable ground here â there are definitely dark moments when I ask ‘do I have the right to do this?’ and I can only comfortably answer ‘yes’ because it is my own culture and belief, my own experience, the voice of my own blood that is singing through me. I am not certain I could always give a resounding ‘yes’ if that were not the case.
I think that, for me, the subject boils down to questions of Power,Voice and Ownership â does the mythology I’m punking from exist in enough written forms that its power and voice resound through history and are unlikely to be altered / obliterated forever by my work here and now? – does the culture which this mythology hales from have enough power and voice on the world stage to protest against my meddling with it, should it choose to do so? – and lastly, is the culture my own?
But this is just my story, my journey, my own evolving view on things, â I’d be really interested to hear what you think on the subject! Should Mythpunk be a free-for-all? Is it OK to punk from other cultures? Should we not punk at all? Or is there a middle road and if so, how do we stay on it?
In that contemplative vein, I’m going to share with you Black Jack’s Lady by my favourite singer/songwriter of all time Heather Alexander / Alexander James Adams.
It’s a Mythpunk’d version of the child ballad The Raggle Taggle Gypsies / The Gypsy Laddie / Black Jack Davy, a ballad I grew up with, which tells the tale of Lady Cassillis and her lover the Romanichal folk hero and Rom Baro Johnnie Faa.
In that folk tale, the Earl of Cassillis marries his young wife against her will, but her lover, Johnnie Faa, or Black Jack Davy, rescues her and they run away together. The Earl eventually catches them, hangs Faa and his brothers and imprisons his wife for the rest of her days. There isn’t any truth in the tale as far as Faa and Cassillis are concerned, and of course there are aspects of it which seem wonderful and other aspects which seem dreadful.
Here’s the song and above it I’ve included Heather’s introduction/ explanation of it as well – I’ve chosen it because, as with the original, there’s a lot about it that I love from a fun and feminist perspective and also a lot that feels uncomfortable … see what you think?
And finally here’s the excerpt I promised from The Road Back Lost, if you like it and want to read the whole things you can find it on Vocal… https://poets.media/the-road-back-lost
THE ROAD BACK LOST
Do you know what it is like to gut a wolf, child? Do you think you have the stomach for the knife? If you are a daughter of the wood, you ought at least to have that. But perhaps the tool they have given you is not up to the task? Faced with the breath, the lure of iron scent, the clinging claret clots that call to your own quickened pulse, the sharp, sharp teeth a grotesquery of your
Little
Knife
Perhaps you would rather flee?
Or perhaps that dilation of your dark and precious orbs betrays your lust to leave this wood and simply be devoured, melting on a hot tongue, melting in a hot belly, melting like a shadow into night? How many times have you tried to lose yourself that way? How many times have you wandered from the path, waiting for your wolf?
Well
Here she is, child, here she sits; white throat waiting to welcome you home.â
Thanks for joining me for another #MythpunkMonday and please feel free to join in a share your own / others Mythpunk either in the comments or using the hashtag – let’s fill every Monday with marvellous Mythpunk madness đ
30 Years Of Steampunk: The Second Decade – Guest Post By Phoebe Darqueling
Steampunk: The Second Decade
Greetings to fans of Steampunk old and new! This is the third installment of a series exploring the history of the Steampunk genre in honor of its â31st birthdayâ on April 27. As part of the 30th birthday festivities in 2017, I coordinated and contributed to a collaborative Steampunk novel called Army of Brass. You can pre-order now at a mere $.99 as our âgiftâ on this most hallowed of days and it will be delivered on Friday.
In the first post in this series, I talked about adaptations of Victorian works as examples of Steampunk before the word âSteampunkâ came into being. If you want to know more about that momentous occasion and the first ten years of amazing books, check out part 2. Now, we embark on the decade spanning the mid-1990s to the mid-2000s in which Steampunk branched out from literature and found a home in fashion and graphic novels. Plus we see the birth of the first online forums for connecting Steampunk fans.
Steampunk Fashion
Steampunk jumped from the pages of books into the realm of wearable art sometime in the mid- to late-1990s. Fashion student and member of the fashionable set, Kit Stolen, is one well-known example. He wore distressed Victorian style clothes paired with his own unique hair creations (called âfallsâ) and caused quite a sensation. Large-scale events wouldnât show up in earnest for a few years yet, but daring creators like Stolen paved the way for the rest of us to enjoy our corsets and top hats later on.
Visual Media
The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen
In 1999, writer Alan Moore (The Watchmen) and illustrator Kevin OâNeill paired up to create the first LoEG graphic novels. The story is set in 1898 in the aftermath of the events of Dracula. Mina Harker is recruited by Campion Bond (a predecessor of James Bond) to lead a unique group of âextraordinaryâ literary figures. She recruits the likes of Allan Quatermain, Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde, The Invisible Man, and Captain Nemo to join her to fight Fu Manchu in the first collection. Volume II centers on the events of War of the Worlds.
This two-volume collection of comics is brimming with literary characters and settings from the 19th century. And much in the same vein as the first Steampunk books, this series definitely has a dark side. The 2003 film by the same name, however, was pitched as more of a family affair. Sean Connery plays Quatermain and as the one with the star power, he ended up totally usurping Mina as the leader of the group. They also added a big role for Tom Sawyer as a CIA agent. Many fans of comics hated the movie because it shed all of its darkness, and film critics didnât love it either. Still, itâs a fun homage to the literature of the steam era.
Wild Wild West Movie (1999)
This is another movie that checks several Steampunk boxes but ran into problems with fans. This reimagining of the 1960s Western-spy crossover as an adventure comedy rubbed many the wrong way. The franchise centers on James West, a sheriff who works for Ulysses S. Grant. At the time, Will Smith, who played West, was one of the hottest actors in Hollywood, and Kevin Kline was on a similar hot streak when he played Westâs sidekick. It culminates in a mad scientist on a rampage in his giant mechanical spider. I personally loved this movie when I first saw it. Then again, Iâd never seen the original so I wasnât suffering from any dashed expectations. The movie is definitely a comedy, so I can see why someone looking for James Bond in the Wild West could be disappointed. (But still, giant mechanical spider = awesome. Am I right?)
Girl Genius (2001-Present)
The husband and wife team of Phil and Kaja Foglio created this series in 2001. It straddles the line between Steampunk and gaslamp fantasy, a term that Kaja Foglio created to describe the series as it straddles the line between sci-fi and fantasy. Itâs about Agatha Clay, a harried science student in a semi-Victorian setting and carries the tagline âAdventure, Romance, MAD SCIENCE!â It started off as a black and white print book, added color in issue 3, and jumped to the web in 2005. You can read the entire series from the beginning and it is still updated every week.
Dark Portals: The Chronicles of Vidoqc (2001)
In the original French, this film is called simply Vidoqc because this name is famous in their history. Eugene Francois Vidoqc was a real police investigator in the first half of the 19th century and is largely recognized as the âfather of forensic science.â His methods were so advanced, in fact, that people thought he dabbled in the occult. This association is the inspiration behind the film, which is both gritty and beautiful. The structure is unusual and non-linear, and among my favorite films of all time.
The Amazing Screw-on Head (2002)
Dark Horse comics later released this dark comedy by Mike Mignola (Hellboy) about a secret agent working in Abraham Lincolnâs service in 2002. True to his name, Screw-on Head has a removable head that can be installed in a number of bodies with different capabilities. A few years later, the SyFy channel released the pilot for an animated series. Unfortunately, despite the voice talent of Paul Giamatti, David Hyde Pierce, and Patton Oswalt, it never made it past the first episode.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XbsDvGtTRWU
The Five Fists of Science (2006)
Dark Horse published another Steampunk gem with Mark Twain and Nikola Tesla in the starring roles. This is a tight little book that doesnât waste any words, which means that all of the front-pages are more than just prologue. If you pick this one up (and I recommend you do), make sure you check out the short biographies of the real people involved, as well as the letter shared between Twain and Tesla that inspired this story full of giant robots and Lovecraftian beasties.
Steampunk Hits the Web
In 2006, the first dedicated Steampunk forum was established. Though the creator no longer plays an active role or updates it regularly, you can still visit âBrass Goggles.â This was an important step in the evolution of Steampunk as a community rather than a string of independent people. People could swap tips about making props and costumes, recommend books, and plan get-togethers in a streamlined way.
And Then Came the Music
And donât forget, Army of Brass comes out tomorrow! 21 international writers came together to create this tale of giant automatons, fearless airship captains, and deadly conspiracies.
Order your ebook copy of Army of Brass for $.99 and receive it on Friday to celebrate Steampunkâs â31st birthday.â The blog tour continues until May 13, and so does this special price.
Plus, Join us on Facebook April 28-29 to meet the writers, participate in giveaways, and more!
Not sure if itâs for you? Read a review, take a sneak peek at the full Chapter 1 or read another exclusive excerpt. You can also get to know the character Captain Jack Davenport a little bit better with his interview on Blake & Wight. If you want to find out more about collaborative writing, Army of Brass contributors and Collaborative Writing Challenge veterans Crystal MM Burton and Kathrin Hutson shared articles for the tour about the pros, cons, and rewards.
Speaking of giveaways, you can enter to win ebooks from the CWC writers.
and if you want to read the other posts in this series you can find them here:
Note from Penny: Thankyou so much to Phoebe for this awesome guest post which forms part of the Army of Brass blog tour. Regular readers may have noticed the Abney Park album featured on the panel in the music section and recall that this blog is temporarily boycotting Abney Park because of Robert Brown’s antiziganistic remarks and behaviour (until such a time as we can speak to him personally and see what he has to say for himself)Â However we have allowed this one exception so as not to ruin Phoebe’s wonderful guest post (Coz we iz nice like that innit?) and not at all used it exploitatively to draw attention to this issue we’re passionate about… a-hem… đ
Elevenses: Frosty Fayre
Good morning ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Max and Collinâs splendiferously sparkling and frostabulously frozen parlour located in the splendidly scenic city of Lancaster!
True, some have called it a frigid place of cold hearts and frosty welcomes but we consider that uch people are merely embittered that they have not yet received an invitation.
You find us this morning, warming our tentacles beside an imaginary fire after an enterprising and entertaining morning at the fabulous frost fair which is being held on our beloved river Lune.
Our psychotic scarecrow landlord, Montmorency, woke us before dawn with the business end of his walking cane and demanded that we head out into the frozen darkness and not return until we had enough money to pay for this monthâs rent. The fact that we only just paid for the last month seems to have escaped the rogue and so I perched upon Maxâs shoulder and we set off towards the river.
There were already traders setting up stalls on the ice but none of them took favourably to our offers of assistance (it seems that Queen Vicâs recent amendments to equality in employment law do not extend to an Octopus and a Tea Fiend) So we settled ourselves on the bank instead and watched the sun rise over the frosted spires of the sail barges which had collapsed crazily into the ice sheets and lay mired liked the skeletons of stranded beasts from some fantastical caffeine-fuelled nightmare.
Things picked up once the punters arrived. After some initial competition from a woman hawking root beer (For a Very Quite Gentleman, Max can be terribly clumsy when glass bottles are around) we managed to sell twenty bottles of lemonade (and drink many more) without being lynched by the barge folk for selling without paying the trading fees.
We decided that that was quite enough hard shirking for one morning and spent the rest of the time mooching around the stalls, watching the jugglers and fire eaters and, most impressively to me, the ice skaters. Having lived under the sea all my life, I never imagined this curious form entertainment and I am determined, soon, to beg, borrow or steal enough pairs of ice skates to attempt the thing myself.
Now here we are back in the parlour, our landlord briefly appeased, our cats greedily devouring the last of the skimmed milk ration, and all desperately in need of a reviving spot of elevenses and some soothing music to tap our tentacles to. Unfortunately our absconding butler has not seen fit to deliver the goods this morning (perhaps she thinks itâs a holiday? âThough what a werewolf would find to do at a frost fair we have no idea…) but not to worry because we managed to run into our lovely Mrs Baker on the way back and she has set us up with a packet of genuine Frost Fair Souvenir Gingerbread which, knowing Mrs B, will be crammed full of illegal sugar…mmm…
And, by happy chance, Maxâs constant pocket companion âThe Whole Duty Of A Woman (or an infalliable guide to the fair sex) â 1737â (A birthday gift from a devoted family member I think) has an excellent recipe for … OWCH! …Well, really! You know, for a Very Quiet Gentleman, Max, you  can be excessively violent devoid of a sense of humour…
I was going to say, before I was so rudely interrupted by a flying teapot, that this is a recipe for ginger bread biscuits, rather than the cake which we are enjoying now but it is nonetheless share-worthy, I think…
âTo Make Gingerbread…
Take a pound and a half of London Treacle, two eggs beaten, half a pound of sugar, one ounce of ginger, beaten and sifted, of cloves, mace and nutmeg, all together, half an ounce beaten very fine, coriander seeds and caraway seeds of each half an ounce, Two punds of butter melted; mix all these together, with as much flour a will knead it into a pretty stiff paste, then roll it out and cut it into what Form you please; bake it in a Quick Oven on Tin-plates; A little time will bake it.â
Â
And now weâd better tune in our Tesla radio and have some soothing sounds to placate my beastly savage companion… drink your tea Max and calm yourself down, it is not becoming for a Very Quiet Gentleman to sulk like that…
Ah, much better, that was Smith and Burrows if you were not aware of the before they are rather marvellous. We wish you a very pleasant afternoon, filled with with warmest and spiciest of delights, and we will see you back on Monday for some more splendid steampunk fiction and excellent tea. So, until then, please be always,
Utterly Yourself
Morning Cuppa: Steampunk festive cheer
Good morning, Ladies and Gentlemen,  welcome to Max and Collin’s fabulously festive and expertly extravagant  parlour located within the spledidly scenic city of Lancaster, Mor Ire.
True, some have called it an offensively ostentatious affair, filled with frivolous flamboyancy but we consider that such individuals are tasteless and we would never consider having them for supper.
You find us this morning turning the parlour into a veritable Wizmas WonderlandâŚ
 Apparently the final battle between Wiz and The Goddess took place on the snowy peaks of Siberia. (Having visited Siberia ourselves recently we are, to be candid, a little sceptical of this assertion.) and so it is traditional to cover oneâs self and immediate surroundings in as much snow as possible throughout the Wizmas season. The more snow you are seen to sport, the more you likely to convince The Good Folk of your allegiance to our supreme ruler.
 Of course there is always the small problem that snow in The Scattered Isles is not the most common meteorological phenomenon. Still there are ways to fake snow and we have pushed the iceberg out this year on that front!
 We have carpeted the entire floor in sheets of cotton wool batting (We did try white crepe paper initially but it wasnât nearly as messy, irritating or difficult to remove, this cotton stuff soaks up the water from the cellar floor beautifully too!).
 The strange chains (which hang from the walls and do not invite us to ask our landlord their purpose) we have piled high with a mixture of baking soda, white and blue glitter, a few drops of vanilla and peppermint oil and a tsp or two of water just to get it to hold together. As Freddy is also chained to the wall we have simply wrapped him in tissue paper to keep him out of sight.
 Upon the tea table, we have carefully sculpted a pyramid from âsnow ballsâ. These were made by mixing glitter (again) with coconut flour and a little cold water.
 Sadly we no longer have any windows, this being a cellar afterall, otherwise we could have stuck baking parchment over them to make them look âfrosted.â
 As for our own attire, we have given eachother a fairly good dusting with white glitter and talcum powder and can safely say we look perfectly abominable.
We simply canât wait to see the look on Montmorencyâs face when he sees the effort we have gone toâŚtrue it is difficult to read the facial features of a psychotic scarecrow, but we tend to guess that when his head is leaning to the left he is in a better mood than when it is leaning to the right, he looks a little friendlier like that you see.
And our furry pals the Dustcats seem to have got into the mood as well!
 Anyway, now that we have enough snow to infuriate our landlord we can sit back with a nice cup of tea and begin writing our Wizmas cards. Fortunately, our fabulous friends over at Hopeless Maine have brought out several sets of ‘alternative festive cards’ this year to bring a massive helping of Steampunk Splendidness to the season! ‘Steamed Pudding’ , ‘He Hears His Master’s Holiday Message’ and ‘A Hopeless Holiday’ are available from the Hopeless Maine etsy shop (click the image to go straight there) and can be bought as separate designs or as a multi-pack! So if Robins and Penguins and fat men in red suits are putting you off reminding your loved ones that you still exist and would appreciate cash or brandy this year rather than socks or arrest warrants , no more excuses eh? …Â
Now all that is needed is some suitably seasonal audios to usher in the afternoon so let us tune in our Tesla Radio and ….
Â
 Marvellous! We wish you all a very splendidly snow filled afternoon, and we invite you back to join us soon for more festive fabulousness. So, until then please be always,
Utterly Yourself
Â
Elevenses: Flower magic and a Steampunk short story
Good Morning ladies and gentlemen! I realise you are all probably feeling a little eleven o clockish at this hour but I must beg your forgiveness and delay the cake for a moment because we have a very special guest in the parlour this morning!
Our lovely Shonchavani friend Mrs Belle Sykes has kindly left her Tea Smuggling Tramper-Van in the capable hands of her husband Gord and their 20 children (whose names I seem to remember are, Yan, Tan, Arthur, Martha, Pip, Seth, Heather, Hogarth, Dorothy, Richard, Yan-Richard, Tan-Richard, Arthur-Richard, Martha-Richard, Barmcake, Yan-Barmcake, Tan-Barmcake, Arthur-Barmcake, Martha-Barmcake and Diggory.) and braved the long trek down here to the docks in order to show us some ways of productively using the fruits of our deflowering labours.
The Shonchavani are a diaspora of the Jentacular Isle but, as the Jentacular Isle is believed by most to be purely mythical (I can personally vouch for the fact that it is not!) the queen has decreed that they must have come from Bohemia. They first arrived in Ire during the reign of Henry The Eighth and the mechanical wonders they brought with them caused them to be instantly branded as witches. It wasn’t until Elizabeth came to the throne that this persecution eased up a little and a deal was struck – if the Shonchavani would abandon their nomadic lifestyle (ie – hiding and running from the witch hunters) and share their technological knowledge with the queen’s wizards they would be allowed to live peacefully in squalid little hovels just like any other peasant. Some agreed and became known as Tinkers, others did not. When Ann became queen she struck another deal, this time with the travelling clans – if they would agree to transport the queen’s tea safely from her plantations to the elite county of Devon in their mechanised Tramper-Vans and prevent it falling into the hands of land pirates, all accusations of witchcraft would be dropped. The Shonchavani are an enterprising folk and some of their very best friends and relatives are pirates… needless to say they immediately agreed to this potentially lucrative arrangement.
Sadly the recent introduction of skyway travel has meant less and less work for the ‘Tea Trampers’ and they have had to find other ingenious ways of making ends meet and so Belle has kindly agreed to pimp her heritage to us and show us how  quick silver can be made by making and selling the ancient magical herbal thingies that her people have used for centuries to survive on the road… hm? …. sorry did you say something about ethics or did you cough? Oh you were just clearing your throat, sorry, do have some tea…
1. Ye Most Olde And Ancient And Bone Fide Magikal Cure For Coughs and Colds
Take as many flowers of violet, white horehound and mullein as you can fit into a large saucepan, cover with boiling water and simmer gently until the mix has reduced by about half. Strain off the flowers and add 500g of sugar. Bring back to the boil and simmer for a further 20 mins or until the mixture coats the back of a cold spoon (you want a syrup, not jam but if you accidentally boil too long you can still use the jam it will have the same medicinal properties!) Pour the syrup (which is a soothing expectorant) into dark glass bottles, seal and keep in a cool place. Take one tsp as needed for a dry or chesty cough up to four times a day.
2. Most Magikkal And Traditional Healing Balm For Skin Irritations
Take 1kg of lard (or coconut oil or petroleum jelly if you prefer) and add to a very large saucepan with as many buttercup flowers (not the green steams or leaves) as you can manage. Melt gently over a low heat for 10 – 20 mins until the mix is liquid and bright yellow (do not boil). Strain off the flowers and add 20 – 40 drops of rose or lavender oil if desired, this will add scent and boost the soothing properties of the balm but may be too much for the most sensitive skins so use with caution. Pour into dark glass jars quickly before it sets, seal and keep in a cool dark place. Use as a healing cream for dry skin, eczema, bruises, minor cuts and grazes.
3. A Certain Tonic For The Quarrelsome Wife, Promotes Marital Bliss GuaranteedÂ
Take as many flowers of the Pink that you can gather and simmer in a large pan for one hour. Strain off the flowers, return the water to the pan with 500g sugar. Simmer gently for about 20 mins to form a syrup. Pour into glass bottles and seal. Drink one tablespoon of this syrup dissolved in a glass of wine as required. Double the dose during the most trying time of the month. Satisfaction guaranteed or your money back.
Now then, while Max rolls up his shirt sleeves, fastens his goggles and sets about t help with the brewing of flowers and and boiling of fat, I really feel we ought to step out of the way… s let’s sit down over here and enjoy some calming primrose tea and open a good book shall we?
The Brides Of Saint Michael are not your average group of Holy Sisters, when an ancient enemy leaves his calling card Agnes Broadshield and her militia of Women In Waistcoats take to the streets to prevent the evil creature and his minions from exacting their revenge but even as we close the final pages of the book, it seems this is not so much an ending as a beginning…
This is a splendidly crafted short story, a well balanced mixture of steampunk / gaslamp and mythology which we found engaging from the outset. If you are looking for a quick steampunk fix with a strong plot, well developed characters and a good mixture of familiarity and uniqueness then this little gem is the book for you.
Hm? Sorry? No music today? Oh well there isn’t really much room here to set up the radio so… oh well alright then I suppose if you could hold the areal out of the window … yes that’s it …
Thankyou very much… is your arm still alright there? Oh dear, well could you stay there for just a little bit longer I’m hoping to catch the news….
Soup of the day: With Alexander James Adams
Hello! Mrs Albert Baker here, otherwise known as The Last Witch Of Pendle. Obviously there is no Pendle any more, since those dreadful land pirates , The Chronic Agronauts, utterly destroyed it with treacle and sprats, but Iâve set myself up quite nicely here in Lancaster, running this little soup kitchen for the street urchins. There certainly are a lot of them and Iâm always looking for helping hands to cook up and serve something delicious!Â
Now I am extremely honoured this morning because Faerie Tale Minstrel, Alexander James Adams has very kindly agreed to help me dish up some soup for our poor unfortunate orphans here in Lancaster. Good morning Alexander! Can I take your hat and coat? This is supposed to be spring but nobody has told the weatherman as usual!
Oh, and who is this you have brought with you?
While not always visible except to such discerning folk as yourself, my Lady, my feline familiar Bartholomew Dragon Master is always with me since he became a ruler of the Sun. When he ascended from this realm in 2015 during Samhain, he made it known to me to have his name inscribed on my neck where he liked to rest his paw when sleeping and the ink used was to be infused with his ashes so now he is a part of me and I of him.
Â
Oh what a touching tale! Well you are both most welcome. Have a seat here by the fire and I will put the kettle on, and here of course is a saucer of cream for Bartholomew. Now do tell me, how was your journey here from your own dimension?
Wonderous and unthreatened. That is not always the case when traveling, but you gave very safe directions so I was able to avoid the Unseelie Court and Their kind. They like to invite me to Their parties, but I try to have other things to do so as not to be tempted so often to do mischief with Them.
Oh dear me yes, there are many who delight in leading the unwary traveller astray! But of course you must be quite used to time and space travel by now; from Victorian, Medieval and Renaissance times on earth to the realms of Fairyland, your music speaks of a most exciting and adventurous life! Are there still more stories to tell?
Yes. I have been to many magical places, not the least of which was the Land of Fae Itself where I was abducted to by the Fae at the time of my birth. A changling took my place bearing the name of Heather Alexander and she dwelt among the Mortals for forty years or so enchanting folk with her magical music. Then she got bored and returned home, where upon I saw my chance, challenged the Queen of Faeries in a dual of fiddles, won my freedom and came here to the realm of Man. I plan on traveling to more and more magical realms to collect new songs and stories. The lands of Steampunk,  furry talking animals who walk upright like humans, and even the Realm of Aegis, a new world of high adventure and canticles where I bear the name of Everon the XIII, a false immortal bard who battles for the Light of the World:
Canticles Productions –Â www.matthewmorrese.com
Goodness it all sounds so exciting! And certainly puts my own meagre adventures to shame! But it is so kind of you to brave the trip to our blighted Isle Of Ire to come and help me out this morning in my humble little kitchen , tell me have you brought some soup along to share with the orphans?
I brought my favourite! As a musician and sometimes empty pocketed, I have learned to make the most of what I have and can save for a hard time ahead. I call it Boiled Bone Soup. I use the frozen bones from various dinners previous, reboil them til I can strip every little bit of meat from them, toss out the bones, add rice, cloves, cinnamon, brown sugar and nutmeg to taste, plus any vegetables I have around. If Iâm really lucky, Iâll have a little port or red wine to add. Stir and cook until itâs all soft and warm and serve with fresh homemade bread. The next day, it will be almost solid and becomes a casserole until itâs all gone, but itâs so good, that doesnât take too long at all.
Oh how delicious! Let us take out my largest cauldron then and make a double batch so we have plenty for tomorrow as well. Now while that is simmering away nicely, why donât you tell us about your exciting new Steampunk project?
It will be a huge event. A kind of Cirque du Soleil presentation with musicians, elaborate settings and four to five âMechanical Techniciansâ to run âHypnoticaâs Magical Mind Machineâ. It is a form of stage hypnotism themed in a setting of Steampunk and done by music and singing rather spoken suggestions. It wonât be just simple entertaining parlour tricks and making folk do silly things either. Everywhere they âtravelâ in the machine will give them an experience that will give them a sense of accomplishment and fun.  I want to make sure that everyone who comes, whether they volunteer for hypnosis or not, are transformed and empowered by the show. Hypnotism does work much like real magic. It is a way of allowing your brain to accept a specific suggestion and then believing it to be real. If done with proper intent and respect, it can change the way a person thinks and behaves for the rest of their life. When folk see the Magical Mind Machine, they will learn that with the power of their own minds, they can change life for the better. Thatâs good magic, right there.
That certainly sounds like a marvellous thing to look forward to! When do you hope it will be released?
The musical album should be out by the end of summer this year. The show itself will take a little more time, but we hope to see a version of it come out next year. The producer himself, Mark Maverick, is a Manchester man, so we hope to have the show in London in the first year, if possible.
Oh how exciting! Now I know youâre rather a legend in the folk / filk arena but this new project isnât your first Steampunk album is it?
Not entirely. I released a faerietale/steampunk combination album in 2014 called Summer Steam. It combines the 5 songs of Summer Releases from that year and 4 songs called Clockwork Collection all bundled to make a 9 song album.
I have heard it playing on Max and Collin’s spirit radio, it really is marvellous! But tell me my dear, what first sparked your interest in Steampunk in particular? Was it the tea?
Indeed, the tea is exceptional, but I really love the old ways of air travel like with dirigibles and hot air balloons. They seem so much more connected to the air and the magic of flight. Also, it is a genre where the gentlemen can have as much fun with clothing as the ladies and Iâve always enjoyed accessorizing!
Oh indeed! You know I think you would get on very well with our dear Captain of The Chronic Agronauts, he shares both those views entirely! But, I do find it very curious that so many people who have their roots in folk eventually find themselves drawn towards Steampunk, do you think there may be some intrinsic link between the two?
Perhaps. While Steampunk does involve the machinery and innovations of Man, it works so much more intimately with Nature and the land, leaving a much lighter footprint, so to speak, which the Folk culture tends to favour. If we had been smarter and more respectful of our world when we first started inventing, perhaps we would have become more like the world Steampunk represents.
Now there’s an interesting thought indeed… Ah, now the kettle is boiled, what is your hot beverage of choice, my dear, and how do you take it?
HmmâŚI think some hot chocolate with a twist of brandy would be good, if you please.
Splendid, there you are. I’m afraid I cannot indulge in the brandy myself though, it’s my husband Albert who is the drinker. Now while we are waiting for your new release, where can we see you performing this year?
I will be traveling to the Renaissance period for the month of May performing for the Queen in Castleton, Muskogee, Oklahoma and then just popping in and out of many realms and times as I am invited to do for the rest of the year.
Most of the friends that gather here can actually see me bi-monthly if they wish through the magic of a service called Concert Window.
https://www.concertwindow.com/alexanderjamesadams
I try to perform an online concert  from my home every other month and I ask my friends via the Book of Faces for their favourite dates and times during a given weekend. If those gathered here contact me through the Book of Faces under my full name of Alexander James Adams, I will be happy to arrange a time where this side of the pond will be more awake to attend.
Oh that is splendid news indeed! I know many of us here were thrilled to see you perform a few years ago when you visited the UK as part of Tricky Pixie, do you have any future plans to pay the UK another visit?
If I get an invitation and some help with the travel, I would jump at a chance. The Steampunk CD will bring me to Scotland to mix and master it with my good friend Fox Amoore so perchance this summer I will schedule a gig there and possibly elsewhere if I get information and the schedule to make it happen. If any one of your friends can help, please contact me at ryuuaja@aol.com and letâs talk!
That sounds promising indeed! And for those of us who are trapped in another dimension entirely and cannot make it out to your live performances, where can we purchase recordings of your marvellous music?
Through my web page:
or direct download through Bandcamp:
https://alexanderjamesadams1.bandcamp.com
They can also get access to music, videos and art that no one else can if they wish to join my Patreon subscription:
https://www.patreon.com/AlexanderJamesAdams
It starts at 1 dollar US currency per month but it will be helping to pay the monthly fee on my live-in Pro Tools Studio which I hope to have built by the end of this summer so I can make even more music and magic than before.
Splendid! Now I know that the little street urchins were hoping you might play a song for them before we eat?
This being May and still a little chilly, I recommend a âGood Beltaine Fireâ!
https://alexanderjamesadams1.bandcamp.com/track/good-beltaine-fire
Oh marvellous! Well thank you so much for coming to help out in the soup kitchen today, Alexander, itâs been delightful chatting with you and I hope you will come back and see us again sometime. Now I must say that soup smells delicious. I think it must be about ready so shall we start dishing it up?
Please, and thank you so much for inviting me today! May your soups always be fulfilling to the soul!
Thankyou all of you for joining us today, I hope you will come back again next week and until then,
Blessings on your brew my dears!
Oh and before I go I must take a moment to apologise for the absence of Max and Collin this week, apparently their participation in the de-flowering festival has resulted in their home-made-steam-powered-wagonette crashing into a farmer’s barn and setting the whole thing on fire. They are now walking home, keeping to the woods and ditches to avoid said irate farmer, and should hopefully be back in the parlour next week – in my opinion it serves them right for fraternising with wayward cultists but, you know how it is, boys will be boys…
Elevenses: Passion and The Blues
Good morning ladies and gentlemen, I hope we are all feeling extremely eleven o clockish because the time is, of course, eleven o clock so pull up a chintz armchair or even a lemonade crate and Help yourself to a delightful slice of this blueberry and passion fruit cake from hummingbird high while I recount the dreadful disappointments we have suffered in the realm of subletting cushions.
In truth we stand before you chagrined at our own naĂŻvetĂŠ, there is only one person we know who considers manacles a daily necessity, he is an anchorite, his name is Freddy Payne and (if you are as smart as you look) you will not be surprised to hear that he is also a harlequin (Max calls him a clown but then Max enjoys vexing violent people for some reason).
Usually Freddy spends his days, and nights, chained to the wall of Montmorecys âofficeâ in the basement of our delightful tenement building but, as he explained between fits of maniacal laughter (at least we hoped it was laughter) the rat problem below stairs has become insufferable ; there are, after all, only so many rats a man can stomach and a diet of of raw rodent is, apparently, disrupting Freddyâs Muse⌠does everyone above the waves fancy themselves an artist of some description?
We spent an interesting evening listening to Freddy wax about his life choices and the virtues of becoming a Holy Man devoted to The Divine Comedy (I say interesting rather than informative for the fellow insists on speaking in cryptic sentences, cunningly composed to evade accurate interpretation and dished up always three helpings at a time. ) But sadly, in the end, he concluded that our rotting woodwork was not going to be an adequate replacement for the stone walled cellar and so everyone’s time had been wasted. At least we were able to send him on his way with a couple of cats and vague promises of visiting him down there occasionally … but to be honest I would rather return to Hull than venture down into that Scarecrowâs lair.
So now here we are, still tenantless and broke but eternally optimistic that an opportunity for raising cash or Cain will present itself sooner or later. In the meantime let us tune in our spirit radio and find something ironic to tap our tentacles to…
Oh dear, and that has set Max moping about Christina again… ah well. We wish you an afternoon filled with laughter and none of it at your own expense and until we see you again, please be always,
Utterly yourself.
Elevenses: Spies and Tarts
Good morning Ladies and Gentlemen I hope you are all feeling extremely eleven o clockish because the time is of course eleven o clock and we have some audaciously awesome elevenses to share with you all, but whilst our lovely werewolf butler Klapka is dishing it up, let me take a moment to inform you of some developments in our subletting cushion enterprise… this note was delivered to Max on the corner of Baker’s Row at midnight…
Hmmm… what sort of a gentleman requires manacles? Perhaps we would do better not to enquire… in fact perhaps we should endeavour to be out when he calls… mind you, manacles would come in useful around here, Montmorency certainly needs locking up, and Klapka too has her off days… ah well, best not to berate the cook before we have eaten eh? Let us see what she has cooked up for us this morning…
This gorgeous rhubarb tart is the brain child of Allie at Baking A Moment click on the picture to see her lovely recipe and bake this amazing spring time treat for yourself…or have your butler make one for you…
Now then all we need to do is tune the Spirit Radio in to some delightful steampunk music to while away the morning…
Ah,steampunk spies by Derek Fiechter We wish you a delightfully unfettered afternoon and until we see you again, please be always,
Utterly Yourself
Elevenses: The Clockwork Collection
Good morning Ladies and Gentlemen I hope you are all feeling extremely eleven o clockish because the time is of course eleven o clock and our lovely werewolf butler is simply straining at the leash to batter down our parlour door and assault our table with her culinary creations…
Oh dear Goddess just look at these jammie dodger bites from Katie Cakes they remind us partly of Dr Who (Tardis destruct button?) and partly of Alice in wonderland! Click on the picture to go to Katie’s recipe.
But just before we fill our faces with these divine treats, let us tune in our spirit radio and find some awesome audios to usher in the afternoon…
The Clockwork Collection – Alexander James Adams
Splendid! We wish you a truly scrumptious afternoon filled with tasty treats and until we see you again please, be always,
Utterly Yourself
Elevenses: Utterly Hopeless Music
Good morning ladies and gentlemen I hope we are all feeling extremely eleven o clockish because it is of course time for elevenses and our tentacles are all of a tremble with excitement because we have received a very wonderful present from our dear friend Mrs Nimue Brown âŚ
Obviously she was aware of my recent ordeal at the mercy of that psychotic scarecrow and sent me this stunning portrait to cheer me up, I just adore the colours and details, especially the little spoon tucked into my top hat, it has absolutely made my day! And because we are hopelessly besotted with Mrs Brownâs gloriously gothic island of Hopeless Maine, let us tune in our spirit radio to listen to some of their glorious filk music right hereâŚ.
And to accompany it I see our lovely werewolf butler, Klapka , has brought us something mouth-wateringly sumptuous this morning.. lavender honey cake from the wonderful kitchen of sprinkles for breakfast, this looks absolutely divine and you can find the recipe by clicking on the picture link.
Now there is nothing left to do except wish you all a most delicious afternoon filled with all your favourite fancies and we hope you will join mrs baker in her soup kitchen tomorrow when she will be joined by steampunk creator, Kaydance Heggarty, so until we see you again please be always
utterly yourself
Elevenses: Mad March Hats
Good morning ladies and gentlemen I hope we are all feeling extremely eleven o clockish because the time is, of course, eleven o clock and we are ferociously armed to the back teeth with tiffin but, before we launch our assault upon our stomachs, let us take a moment to perform our sacred tea ceremony for the month of march…
March was invented by The Powers That Tea, so that all honest tea fiends might have one sacred month in the year when we can inflict massive amounts of joy and jubilation upon the rest of humanity and try to convert them to our divine cause.
The Sacred Tea for March is ALL TEA.
Ceremonial Garb: Â The Mad Top Hat
The Scared Ritual for the first of March is as follows:
The Chant:
There is only one leaf, and its name is âall leavesâ
           There is only one kettle, and its name is âall steamsâ
           There is only one pot, and its name is âall potsâ
           There is only one cup, and its name is âall cupsâ
           There is only one brew, and its name is âall brewsâ
The Oath:
I solemnly swear to accept the gift of the month of March as a month for spreading mischievous amounts of joy and tea-inspired jollity to those around me. I will honour the Powers That Tea by drinking All Tea with respect and acknowledging that tea is a divine gift to all, not to be hoarded or monopolised by one group of greedy guzzlers. As a mark of this vow I will wear my Mad Top Hat every day during the month of March.
There, now that we have the formalities out of the way we can indulge our true motive which is of course to get all punked up in fabulous hats! So we have scoured the aether far and wide for the best Milliners available and here is a selection of the delights we have found…
And right on queue here comes our delightful werewolf butler with this amazing top hat cake tutorial from Bake King… because there’s no batter way to celebrate the month of madness that with a mad hat cake!
And finally all we need is some awesomely audacious audios to usher in the afternoon, so lets tune in our spirit radio and see if we can find sort something hattish …oh here we are, here’s a fantastic tune for any Potter fans out there…
We wish you a marvellously mad afternoon filled with as many millinery delights as you desire and until we see you again please, be always,
Utterly Yourself
Elevenses: The Language Of Tea
Good morning ladies and gentlemen, I hope you are all feeling extremely eleven o clockish because the time is, of course, eleven o clock and no doubt our lovely werewolf butler is just itching to break our door down and shower us with tiffin.
You find us this morning pressing on with revolutionary business- Â which in this case means writing covert communications using Tsaiography (or as some uneducated folk call it ‘Charlatin’) .
That’s right, last week we showed you the Victorian art of coding with flowers, this week we are using tea (which is much more environmentally friendly and also better if you happen to have hayfever).
Tsaiography is extremely versatile and if you were ever forced to learn Latin at school, or if you grew up anywhere near East London, you will have no trouble at all as it bears a striking resemblance to the noble cockney street-slang known as ‘pig latin’
The basic rules are as follows, however there may be regional variations:
First select the word you wish to speak (or write) and, very carefully, slice away the first consonant and anything that was unfortunate enough to come in front of it ( So, for example, TEA would become EA and BUFFOON would become UFFOON ) Keep those letters in a safe place now, weâll be needing them again in a jiffy.
Next open your larder, pantry or picnic hamper, remove your trusty tea caddy and choose any type of tea you fancy. Carefully insert the name of this tea after the next consonant in the word. If there is no other consonant, simply insert the tea at the end of the word. (So if we used ASSAM; TEA would become EAASSAMÂ and BUFFOON would become UFFASSAMOON)
Now, remember where you left those first few letters that you cut away earlier? Scoop them up, being careful to keep them in the correct order of course, and place them right after the name of the tea. (Sticking with our examples, we now have EAASSAMT and UFFASSAMBOON)
Now you may be stuck with an unhappy circumstance in which the new word you have created doesnât sound quite the ticket. (EAASSAMT for example) Donât panic. If this occurs simply act swiftly and haul another tea from your caddy to add to the end of it. (EAASAMTOOLONG, for example, is vastly preferable to EAASSAMT )
Last but not least, if in doubt make it up. No true lady or gentleman would ever ridicule or berate another for improvising around the rules where necessary and there is plenty of fun to be had by combining meaningless multisyllabic ploynons with various brands of tea without worrying too much about whether or not you are spouting anything meaningful. (Children catch on to this much more quickly than grownups â follow their lead.)
To start you off, here are some useful phrases:
Hello â Ellassamho
How are you? â Ochaihwearlgrey aredbushegreentea ouchaiyoolong?
Would you care for a cuppa? â ouladygreywld ouchaiyoolong arassamec orchaif a uppingshuica?
Quick! Put the kettle on before I pass out! â Uigreenteaqck! Utoolongpearlgrey herooibust ettassamkle on efchunmeebore I assyunnanpoolong oukeemuntsouchong!
Now, if you are feeling brave, here are some phrases to translate yourself:
– I think that cake may be laced with laudanum, better let me try it first.
– Excuse me, Sir, did you happen to see an airship parked around here?
– Is that a flame throwing parasol by any chance?
Now hopefully our tongues aren’t in too much of a twist to enjoy our elevenses which this morning is a traditional fruity Yorkshire Teacake to compliment all this tea themed nonsense and you can find the recipe for it here
And now all we need is some inspiring music to keep us going through the afternoon…
Splendid, we wish you a totally tea-tastic afternoon and until we see you again please be always,
Utterly yourself
teapot image from http://www.freeimages.com
Elevenses: Welcoming the White Lady
Good morning Ladies and Gentlemen, I hope you are all feeling extremely eleven o clockish because the time is, in fact, eleven o clock and we, tentacles laden with scones of good will and bakewells of cheer, are ready to meet the hour!
You may sense an air of joviality in my address this morning, in truth I am bubbling over with excitement because the thaw water has all drained away, the parlour is warm and cosy again and tomorrow, here in the Scattered Isles Of Ire, we will be celebrating the first day of spring.
There is an ancient myth (far pre-dating the tyrannous reign of Wiz) Â that tonight, The White Lady, Silver Needle, will begin her walk across the land, warming the earth with the gentle steam of her breath, watering the soil from her swinging kettle. On the first of February, she stops at the house of every Good Tea Fiend and leaves a small present. What will it be? Earl Grey? Chamomile? Darjeeling?
It is polite to leave The White Lady a cup of white tea in return, to strengthen her on her long journey around the world.
Max says that if you have been very wicked, Lady Silver Needle will leave you a jar of instant coffee instead. Hopefully this is just his failed attempt at being amusing.
Nevertheless we have been diligently practising our songs of welcome ….
We all come from the White Haired Lady
Poured from out her sacred pot
Cup and spoon, saucer and cube
Cup and spoon, saucer and cube
Silver Needle stirs her cup and the year turns round
She will warm the earth and water the ground
The seeds we sow, the tea will grow
The seeds we sow, the tea will grow
Silver needle stirs her cup and the year turns round.
and have even been persuaded to go to some strange vigil thingy that Mrs Baker is holding in Peril’s Lovely Library at midnight. Hm? What’s that? Oh no don’t worry about the Liver Birds, Max will take his aether-colliding energy ray pistol to fend them off. And some lemon-grenades…
But goodness all that singing is exhausting, let us see what our lovely werewolf butler, Klapka, has nosed out for us this morning…
Mmm… Silver Spring Tea Bread, it’s her own recipe apparently…
silver spring tea bread
225ml freshly brewed white tea
juice and zest of 1 lemon and 1 lime
50g of butter
100g white sugar
1 egg
225g SR flour
Melted white chocolate for drizzling
Crystalised flowers for decoration
Mix together all the ingredients except the chocolate and flowers. Pour into a 2lb loaf tin and bake at gas mark 4 for about an hour. Cover with foil if it starts to brown too quickly.
Cool the cake in the tin then turn out and slice. Serve each slice drizzled with melted white chocolate and sprinkled with crystallised flowers (primroses, rose, violets, jasmine or lavender would all work well).
We will be leaving a slice out for The White Lady along with a lovely cup of Silver Needle tea and our calling card. Now then, all we need I think is something zesty to tap our tentacles to as we kiss goodbye to the rancid old hag of winter and usher in the buxom bosom of spring….
We wish you a delightful day filled with tea, cake and magic and until we see you again please be always,
Utterly yourself.
Elevenses: Thin Ice
Good morning ladies and gentlemen, we hope you are feeling extremely eleven o clockish because the time is indeed eleven o clock and you find us desperately clinging to a printing press, screaming for help (and cake) in increasingly agitated tones. Here is what happened â
We decided that before the frost fair ended we ought to do one more round of the fuddling tents and then get our names printed on one of those souvenir flyers by one of the many presses which have sprung up across the frozen river.
I think we may have become a little too fuddled however, as by the time we reached the printers Max was no longer content on having our merely our names on the thing but had begun composing a lengthy treatise against tea rationing, sugar tax, dairy alternatives, the monarchy and poets in general… the poor printer was struggling to arrange her wooden blocks as this tirade of caffeine fuelled wrath drew curious punters from all over the river.
The crowd listened in awe for around five minutes until the part about the cats and then, as one, they turned and fled, screaming in terror. It took a few seconds for myself, Max, and the printer to realise that it was not the cats but the breaking ice which had sent them scurrying and, too late, we found ourselves adrift on one of many small ice islands which were rapidly breaking free and speeding off on the mischievous currents of the thawing river.
One, bearing a cargo of serving maids, ploughed into the side of a barge and shattered, sending the girls flailing into the icy water. Sadly I could do nothing to help as my tentacles are still out of action but Max did valiant things with a histrionic napkin â wafting it at them in a most heroic and undoubtedly helpful way â until they all managed to clamber up onto our island and choke themselves puce (donât worry, we perched on the printing press to avoid any embarrassment involving vomit and shoes) .
And so we were stuck â we tried to punt our way to the other side using a parasol but once we got there, some thugs tried charging us to set foot on the bank. None of us had a bean and our offers of throwing them a sopping serving maid did not go down well at all.
Not with anyone.
The maids turned savage and pitched the printing press â with us upon it â into the water (whoâd have credited them with such strength?) and so here we are, desperately in need of elevenses, and assistance. If you happen to have either, please do not hesitate to hurl them in our direction.
In the meantime we will wish all a very uneventful morning and attempt to endear ourselves to passersby by busking along to this…
Elevenses: Strolling the Frost Fair
Good morning Ladies and gentlemen, I hope you are all feeling remarkably eleven o clockish because it is, indeed, eleven o’clock and hope that you will come and join us as we stroll around the Lancastrian Frost Fair, taking in the sights and looking for dainty delicacies to nibble on.
I say strolling, which implies a leisurely pace, but my Very Quiet Gentleman Friend is doing an embarrassing amount of huffing and puffing and gasping for breath which is quite off putting I can tell you and leads me, once again, to question exactly what constitutes ‘Very Quiet’ in the realm above the waves.
I say strolling, but perhaps that is a misnoma for the exercise as in fact my tentacles are all still in splints from the ice skating affair and Mrs B has kindly rustled up an old wheelchair from somewhere and we have strapped a couple of floor board planks to the wheels so that Max can push me through the snowy cobbled streets and over the icy river with ease.
Oh the joy! I cannot tell you how immeasurably more enjoyable it is to experience a winter’s walk from the cozy comfort of an armchair…there are fire eaters and jugglers, oh my goodness is that an elephant thy have over there?! It is! I’m amazed the ice does not crack! Mind you, they are roasting spit an ox with impunity over there and I am certain it is going to lead to disaster.
There are so many things for sale, most of which are double the price one would expect to pay for them because they have the word ‘souvenir’ and a date scratched onto them. Luckily Max is a bit of a Finger Smith and we manage to procure some excellent spiced buns and treacle toffee before slipping away into one of the ‘fuddling tents’. These are made of the barge sails propped up haphazardly with poles and inside you with find some of the most lethal chai-cocktails to be mixed this side of a Tiffin Den.
We sampled ‘Purl’ (a steaming black brew made with lapsang and wormwood) which the vendor told us would have a man gibbering for days, and ‘The Spiky Mother’ (A pungent Assam with chilli and dark chocolate) which had apparently already hospitalised a crowd of eight, but we must be candid and say that, even after four or five cups of each, Max still had the wherewithal to hot foot it out of the tent and away before the angry vendor could catch up with us an extract his payment. Â (no mean feat pushing an octopus in a make-shift sled)
He almost cornered us but luckily Max employed a pocket full of escapological marbles (if you naive to the uses of escapological marbles to thwart a pursuer just ask the nearest five year old) and we left him cursing in the gutter.
So here we are again, back in the parlour, and after all that excitement we had better have something weird and wonderful to hum along to while we devour the rest of our frosty fayre,
We wish you all a very splendid afternoon and hope you will join us for more frosty fun on Thursday so, until then, please be always,
utterly yourself
Elevenses: Frosty Fayre
Good morning ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Max and Collinâs splendiferously sparkling and frostabulously frozen parlour located in the splendidly scenic city of Lancaster!
True, some have called it a frigid place of cold hearts and frosty welcomes but we consider that uch people are merely embittered that they have not yet received an invitation.
You find us this morning, warming our tentacles beside an imaginary fire after an enterprising and entertaining morning at the fabulous frost fair which is being held on our beloved river Lune.
Our psychotic scarecrow landlord, Montmorency, woke us before dawn with the business end of his walking cane and demanded that we head out into the frozen darkness and not return until we had enough money to pay for this monthâs rent. The fact that we only just paid for the last month seems to have escaped the rogue and so I perched upon Maxâs shoulder and we set off towards the river.
There were already traders setting up stalls on the ice but none of them took favourably to our offers of assistance (it seems that Queen Vicâs recent amendments to equality in employment law do not extend to an Octopus and a Tea Fiend) So we settled ourselves on the bank instead and watched the sun rise over the frosted spires of the sail barges which had collapsed crazily into the ice sheets and lay mired liked the skeletons of stranded beasts from some fantastical caffeine-fuelled nightmare.
Things picked up once the punters arrived. After some initial competition from a woman hawking root beer (For a Very Quite Gentleman, Max can be terribly clumsy when glass bottles are around) we managed to sell twenty bottles of lemonade (and drink many more) without being lynched by the barge folk for selling without paying the trading fees.
We decided that that was quite enough hard shirking for one morning and spent the rest of the time mooching around the stalls, watching the jugglers and fire eaters and, most impressively to me, the ice skaters. Having lived under the sea all my life, I never imagined this curious form entertainment and I am determined, soon, to beg, borrow or steal enough pairs of ice skates to attempt the thing myself.
Now here we are back in the parlour, our landlord briefly appeased, our cats greedily devouring the last of the skimmed milk ration, and all desperately in need of a reviving spot of elevenses and some soothing music to tap our tentacles to. Unfortunately our absconding butler has not seen fit to deliver the goods this morning (perhaps she thinks itâs a holiday? âThough what a werewolf would find to do at a frost fair we have no idea…) but not to worry because we managed to run into our lovely Mrs Baker on the way back and she has set us up with a packet of genuine Frost Fair Souvenir Gingerbread which, knowing Mrs B, will be crammed full of illegal sugar…mmm…
And, by happy chance, Maxâs constant pocket companion âThe Whole Duty Of A Woman (or an infalliable guide to the fair sex) â 1737â (A birthday gift from a devoted family member I think) has an excellent recipe for … OWCH! …Well, really! You know, for a Very Quiet Gentleman, Max, you  can be excessively violent devoid of a sense of humour…
I was going to say, before I was so rudely interrupted by a flying teapot, that this is a recipe for ginger bread biscuits, rather than the cake which we are enjoying now but it is nonetheless share-worthy, I think…
âTo Make Gingerbread…
Take a pound and a half of London Treacle, two eggs beaten, half a pound of sugar, one ounce of ginger, beaten and sifted, of cloves, mace and nutmeg, all together, half an ounce beaten very fine, coriander seeds and caraway seeds of each half an ounce, Two punds of butter melted; mix all these together, with as much flour a will knead it into a pretty stiff paste, then roll it out and cut it into what Form you please; bake it in a Quick Oven on Tin-plates; A little time will bake it.â
Â
And now weâd better tune in our Tesla radio and have some soothing sounds to placate my beastly savage companion… drink your tea Max and calm yourself down, it is not becoming for a Very Quiet Gentleman to sulk like that…
Ah, much better, that was Smith and Burrows if you were not aware of the before they are rather marvellous. We wish you a very pleasant afternoon, filled with with warmest and spiciest of delights, and we will see you back on Thursday for something rather special. So, until then, please be always,
Utterly Yourself
Elevenses: Wizmas Witch Hunt Wagonettes
Wizmas! Hurrah! The jolliest, snowiest, most expensive and pointless day of the year is just around the corner: The day all citizen MUST (that is, LOVE TO) celebrate the victory of the awesome ruler of the universe, Wiz, over the inferior, primitive powers of the green goddess and all her ridiculous minions. (Are we doing well? We think we are doing well)
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This morning you find us sketching plans for our Wizmas Witch hunt Wagonette. Every Wizmas, up and down the country, locals band together in fantastical contraptions and chase down any suspected witches, capture them in cages or sacks and lock them in the stocks where they are pelted with hot plum pudding until they confess. They are then transported to The Witch Holes in Slakeland.
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So, poor Mrs Baker, weâre no sure what she is going to do â hopefully not try to disguise herself as Albert again, that caused untold difficulties last timeâŚ
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But enough of the worries of others, we have our own necks to consider! So, on with the showâŚ
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Our Witch Hunting Wagonette DesignâŚ
As for the engine it is a simple four stroke powered by gunpowder tea which we saved from our recent visit to the Temple Of Heaven on the Jentacular Landmass.
But of course we wanted something that looked and sounded beautifully complicated and fabulous so we opted at first for the Daimler 1889 V12 design …. but then we got carried away and modded it up a bit to look a little more like the 1914 Â V8 because well, being an octopus eight seemed more natural…
But before we hoist on our goggles and roll up our shirt sleevesâŚsorry? Well how very dare you, of course an octopus may have shirt sleeves!… we simply must have a little music to tap our tentacles to as we tuck in to the delighful treats that our lovely werewolf butler Klapka has nosed out for us this morning… Oh my goodness! Salted Caramel Chocolate Cake made by Ashley at Baker by Nature click on the picture to go to her recipe…
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 Wish us luck! We wish you all a very exhilarating morning and hope everything you catch brings you good fortune and plenty of cake. We invite you back to join us for Tea @ Three on Thursday so until then please be always,
Utterly Yourself
Morning Cuppa: Earls of Brass and Spurtles Of Gold
You find us this morning in a state of oaty bliss after a weekend spent at The Annual Wizmas Golden Spurtleglove Oatcake Championships (we understand you have something similar in your own dimension?)
 If you are not sure what spurtle gloves are let us enlighten you â the spurtle glove is an oversized oven mitt used for oatcake flipping and a golden one is made in Lancaster every year and given to the contestant who can faultlessly flip the most oatcakes in six minutes.
 The judging is conducted by three highly trained oat flip observers and presided over by Lord Ashton himself but there are also smaller prizes for the most original oatcake creations and these are voted on by the general public.
 This year some of the winners in the Innovative Oatcake Recipe section included Chorizoat Cakes, Plum Compoat and Chocoloat pudding.
 The best part by far, though, was the riot which began when the voted winner of the Oatcake Sculpture section (a truly gargantuan oatcake with a smiley face put on with raisins) was declared by Lord Ashton to be âAn offensive and infantile attempt at subordination and mob-rule.â He then proceeded to disqualify the oat face and award the prize to a detailed oatcake sculpture of Lord Battenberg, the noted explorer, instead.
 Lord Battenbergâs donations to Ashtonâs extensive collection of arthropods is no secret and the furious crowds stormed the stage, seized the judges and began hurling lumps of the hated Battenberg into the River Lune. In the end Ashton had to call his man eating Liver Birds and we all fled for our lives… but it was worth it. All jolly good fun!
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But now we are quite exhausted and simply dying to kick our tentacles up on the table with a nice pot of tea and a good book and, fortunately we have bothâŚ
 
The Earl Of Brass (Ingenious Mechanical Devices #1)Â by Kara Jorgensen
We very much enjoyed this fast paced book. Lord Sorrell is a free thinking adventurer but when he loses his arm he risks having his wings clipped and becoming trapped in the hum drum life he hates. Hadley is a strong minded young woman who is struggling to keep her prosthetic business afloat but when she meets Sorrell she is suddenly caught up in adventures beyond her wildest dreams.
This is a gripping and very original steampunk adventure story, well written with just a splash of romantic sub plot; enough to engage without becoming too heavy. Itâs the first in the series and we will definitely be getting our tentacles into the second one shortly.
 Now then, I suppose we really ought to have an extra special Earl Grey to accompany our Earl Of Brass and here it isâŚ
 
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Duchess Earl Grey from Junkicreations â we cannot praise this divine tea highly enough, more than just your average Earl Grey, The Duchess combines cornflower, rose petals, citrus peel and lime leaves with luxurious bergamot oil to make this a cup that sets out tentacles trembling at just the very thought of it.
 Hm? âŚ.Max says âsteady on old chapâ ⌠I have no idea what you are talking about Max I am perfectly steady. Steady enough to pop out Oracular Cephalopterois into his cup and see what wizmas cheer it has to offer us this morningâŚ.
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Oh thatâs marvellous, how we wish we had been able to sing that at our Spurtle riots!
Ah well, the tea is brewed and there is nothing left for us to say except âchin chin pass the tin open the book and lets begin.â We wish you a spurt-tacular morning filled with wholesome delights and we invite you back to join us for elevenses tomorrow when we will be souping up our wagon and heading for some dreadful wizmas shenanigans so, until then please be always,
Utterly Yourself
Elevenses: Festive ways to annoy your landlord!
Good morning, Ladies and Gentlemen,  welcome to Max and Collin’s fabulously festive and expertly extravagant  parlour located within the spledidly scenic city of Lancaster, Mor Ire.
True, some have called it an offensively ostentatious affair, filled with frivolous flamboyancy but we consider that such individuals are tasteless and we would never consider having them for supper.
You find us this morning turning the parlour into a veritable Wizmas WonderlandâŚ
 Apparently the final battle between Wiz and The Goddess took place on the snowy peaks of Siberia. (Having visited Siberia ourselves recently we are, to be candid, a little sceptical of this assertion.) and so it is traditional to cover oneâs self and immediate surroundings in as much snow as possible throughout the Wizmas season. The more snow you are seen to sport, the more you likely to convince The Good Folk of your allegiance to our supreme ruler.
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Of course there is always the small problem that snow in The Scattered Isles is not the most common meteorological phenomenon. Still there are ways to fake snow and we have pushed the iceberg out this year on that front!
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We have carpeted the entire floor in sheets of cotton wool batting (We did try white crepe paper initially but it wasnât nearly as messy, irritating or difficult to remove).
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The window sills, we have piled high with a mixture of baking soda, white and blue glitter, a few drops of vanilla and peppermint oil and a tsp or two of water just to get it to hold together.
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Upon the tea table, we have carefully sculpted a pyramid from âsnow ballsâ. These were made by mixing glitter (again) with coconut flour and a little cold water.
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Sadly we no longer have any glass in our windows after a close shave with a couple of Liver Birds last week, otherwise we could have stuck baking parchment over them to make them look âfrosted.â
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As for our own attire, we have given eachother a fairly good dusting with white glitter and talcum powder and can safely say we look perfectly abominable.
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We simply canât wait to see the look on Montmorencyâs face when he sees the effort we have gone toâŚtrue it is difficult to read the facial features of a psychotic scarecrow, but we tend to guess that when his head is leaning to the left he is in a better mood than when it is leaning to the right, he looks a little friendlier like that you see.
 Anyway, now that we have enough snow to infuriate our landlord we can sit back with a nice cup of tea and see what delightfully festive treats our lovely butler Klapka has prepared for us… mmm, frosted gingerbread cake with caramel cookies, click on the picture to go to the recipe…
http://www.bbcgoodfood.com/recipes/gingerbread-cake-caramel-biscuit-icing
 Now all that is needed is some suitably snow spangled audios to usher in the afternoon so let us tune in our Tesla Radio and ….
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 Marvellous! We wish you all a very splendidly snow filled afternoon, and we invite you back to join us on Thursday when we will be finding out where the fun is happening this weekend. So, until then please be always,
Utterly Yourself
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Tea @Three: All Punked up with no place to go
Good morning Ladies and Gentlemen! Welcome to Max and Collinâs punktasticly poe-etic parlour located in the splendidly scenic city of Lancaster, Mor Ire.
True, perhaps, some have called it a rotting refuge filled with remorseless rogues, but we consider that such people are merely embittered that they have not yet received an invitation.
You find us, as is usual for a Thursday afternoon, All Punked UP With No Place To Go so without further ado, let us kick our tentacles up on the table, pour out our delightful Poe inspired brew from Owenâs Acres, and peruse the society papers and see where we ought to be heading to this weekend…
Of course we have The Crewe Winter Steampunk Convivial which, if you havenât already bought tickets for you can pay on the door.
Or if you are in the Brighton area, then “Lock up your daughters, your drinks cabinets and your heirlooms … ” because the Yellow Book Room (Britain’s first Steampunk themed pub) is hosting The Filthy Spectacula on the 26th!
All utterly marvellous things to look forward to. We hope you have enjoyed celebrating Poevember with us in the parlour this month and we hope you will join us again for our morning cuppa on Monday when we will be twiddling our thumbs and pondering what mischief to get up to next… or perhaps mischief will find us first? Who knows, or dares to dream eh?
So until then please be always,
Utterly Yourself
Elevenses:The Poe-fect gift?
Good morning Ladies and Gentlemen! Welcome to Max and Collinâs perfectly Poe-etic parlour located in the splendidly scenic city of Lancaster, Mor Ire.
True, perhaps, some have called it a run-down, rodent riddled room in a crumbling riverside tenement building but we consider that such fools have no imagination.
You find us running a little late this morning and for that we most humbly apologize, although we do have an excellent excuse – last night The Parlour suffered yet another savage Liver Bird attack. (Exactly why our so-called oracular cephalopterois failed to warn us of this impending disaster is still a mystery)
The great oaf took up a perch on our ill-equipped roof (sack cloth not being the ideal fabric to support such a large beast). We tried pelting it with crumpets â plain, buttered, jammed and even creamed â but all to no avail. At last, when we had used up every last crumb of our illegal tiffin hoards, Max was finally able to get rid of it by reading from our treasured collection of Mostly Awful Poetry by our arch nemesis Christina Biscotti. (For a Very Quiet Gentleman Max does have a surprising number of arch enemies…hmm..)
Still, we are not so faint hearted as to let a little thing like no roof stop our elevenses and thankfully our delightful werewolf butler (who was conspicuous by her absence last night despite our shrieks for assistance) has found us some marvellous treats to round off our Poevember celebrations…
These stunning cakes were made by Ashleyâs Sweet Bytes and she sketched each design before transferring them to the cookies – visit her blog by clicking the picture and see if you can guess which tale is depicted on each cookie!
In other excellent news we have managed to pay our rent this month and solve our surplus cat problems all in one go! We have cunningly dressed each cat in a suit and tie, popped them into a Hippoâton Cab and shipped them off to a better life in Whitehall where we suspect they will blend seamlessly in amongst the other politicians and possibly even do the country some good. They in turn have promised to send us any bribe money they receive to cover our rent and tiffin expenses… weâre certain we can trust them to uphold their end of the bargain…
But enough of our catastrophes, yesterday we promised you an array of Poe inspired goodies and so we have urged our oracular pet to scour the whole of time and space and pluck from the aether some Poe-fectly delightful treats for us all, and here they are…
Edgar Allan Poe printed tights (also suitable for tentacles) from The tights Shop
https://www.etsy.com/listing/182390923/tights-woman-clothing-edgar-allan-poe
This stunning hand made leather raven journal from The Diary Shop
https://www.etsy.com/uk/listing/210348179/handmade-leather-journal-diary-pagan?ref=market
Beautiful âNo Beauty without some strangenessâ bracelet from Strangeness Charms
https://www.etsy.com/uk/listing/200964952/hand-stamped-no-beauty-without?ref=market
âThe Ravenâ printed fingerless writing gloves from Storiarts
https://www.etsy.com/uk/listing/158002026/the-raven-writing-gloves?ref=market
Hand made to order – Edgar Allan Poe Lunch Bag from Sammo
https://img1.etsystatic.com/026/0/5155644/il_570xN.555835299_qav1.jpg
Have Your very own Poe-In-The-Parlour with this digital download and print Poe paper doll from Artwolf
https://www.etsy.com/uk/shop/Artwolf?ref=l2-shopheader-name
But our favourite of all the picks is this unique Madeline Usher art print from Leilani Joy Art, we much prefer this rendering of her than the traditional âghoul-in-bandagesâ version.
https://img1.etsystatic.com/050/1/5589015/il_570xN.662297355_7drx.jpg
Now then, all that is required is some utterly audacious audios to usher in the afternoon and fortunately we happen to have some! We donât know if Victoria and the Vaudevillains are still gigging but if you do have the opportunity to go see them then you most definitely ought to do so!
There, and now our tea is ready so, we hope you have an utterly ineffable afternoon and we invite you back to join us in the parlour on Thursday when we will be taking a look at where the steampunk action is this weekend.
So, until then, please be always
Utterly Yourself
