The Reincarnation of Peevy

Brrr….Achoooooooooooooooo……….(psst…I huff and puff and fall down !!)

The winds of change are biting hard through the 13.5tog duvet I had snitched from my incredibly thorny neighbour, Spikey the hedgehog. However, I was late in realising that under the shiny layer of cotton and some sort of synthetic, all that was there was some small frazzled piece of cloth.
Now that I wonder about it, the reason for its raggedness was probably because Spikey was so sharp in all the unwanted places.

Damn, Brighton was meant to be a warm and lively place, but its a completely different ball game now. Little did my poor little leprechaunian brain realise that being close to the sea would make the place so wet and windy. To make matters worse, I’m constantly having to get up in the middle of the night to open my doors to some quaint creatures, who have been led to believe that I have a big heart and that I shall let them warm their furry little bodies beside my fireplace. Its quite a pain to bang the door on somebody’s faces, no matter how abberant they are. As a result, quite often I find myself sitting beside the fireplace with some strange critter, discussing about the most trivial topics over a cup of kopi or sooop !

Interestingly enough, couple of months back, I had the most oddball visitor. I had just snuggled into my sand filled ground bed, trying to finish reading the recent Magitzer Award winning “Chicken soop for the Creatures of the Magical World”(which by the way, was soooooooooo incredibly boring that it put me off to sleep even before I completed a sentence), when there was loud knock at the front door of my sand castle. I waited for a second knock, which came loud enough to wake up even my neighbours. I slowly went upstairs (my castle is a 3 storeyed one, but it extends downwards) and peeped through the doorhole. I could just about make out a small shadowy figure who had its back turned towards the door. I opened the door a tiny inch and enquired politely who it was.

“BANG!!” the door opened and I was thrown onto the floor. I managed to remove my night cap, which had successfully slipped down from my head to my face in shock, and after checking myself for any sort of scratches or bleeding, I peered quizzically at my attacker. He was about a foot tall, with a round moon shaped face, sharp chin and the classical Hercule Poirot moustache, with its ends twitching as he spoke. (For humans who havent yet come across this famous Hercule Poirot Character, please read through any of Madam Agatha Christie’s novels when your time permits).
“Howdy pardner” he says to me, as he extends his hand to help me off the floor. Though bewildered, I hang to his hands and manage to get up and stand on my very own sweet stubs that I shall refer to as legs henceforth. “Do I know you ?” I kindly enquire with a frown on my face.
“Ofcourse my mate, don’t you recognise me ? I’m Peevy !” he said.
I quietly rake my brains to locate the name which has been buried for a long time, deep down in the bowels of my brain. Suddenly it strikes me….aaahh Peevy …..the wild imp who was often thrashed by my dad, for stealing silver leeches from our lake. Inspite of all this trashing, Peevy still used to visit me quite often during the good old days of childhood, and we’d go around the lake to the Human side and enjoy many a joke which we played on the unsuspecting human urchins. However, things got quite out of hand, when one of my many Green Leprechaunian Uncles had a squabble with Peevy’s dad, the piqued Harry Widget Imp. Hence, the Widget family relocated to another forest quite a few hundred miles away and nobody heard anything about them ever since.

As I stood in trance, reliving those good old days, Peevy kindly inquired ” Are you planning to invite me in, or are we celebrating our rendezvous out here ? ” I grinned and led him inside to my living room, but not before I latched the door and made sure that it wasnt damaged in anyway. After settling down by the fireplace with both of us sipping on some home made kopi, we got reaccquainted. It appears from Peevy’s version, that things weren’t all that good after they moved out of our forest. Peevy’s parents soon disintegrated into the ground(in human terms, that means they ceased to live or better yet, died !), leaving all their possessions to him. With his newly acquired wealth, Peevy succeeded in funding scientific tests which led to the nurturing of a new brand of fruits — OGRANIC food(not organic, Ogranic), which apparently has been very popular amongst the ever growing human population. However, he has been very careful in not exposing himself to any of the humans, apart from his partner, Mr. Joly Stainscurry. Imagine the skepticism, that the human race would have on ogranic food if they ever find out that this particular version of food was being funded by a cheeky little imp with quite a lot of disposible income.

When asked what brought him to my humble abode, Peevy was quick enough to reply. Apparently I was his only friend and he just wanted to get back in touch with me. According to him, 150 years without contact was quite a long time. !( is it ?). Naturally, I did not believe him at first, but as the days went by, we got on really well, and inspite of us being mature teens (me 250years old and him 220years old), we managed to have some good fun by pursuing our old games of purshing innocent human urchins into the brighton sea and wrecking havoc with young human couplings who frequented the risque regions of the brighton beach, in the hope of having some undisturbed time to themselves.

Finally, after 3 prank-filled weeks, on a cold wintery afternoon, Peevy took leave, with my bank account number in his back pocket and a cheque for 50,000 gold leprechaun coins in his front pocket, leaving with me a promise to return those coins with interest no later than when the sun starts shining brightly in the sussex sky.

I havent heard from him, to this day yet. Probably its because the Sun’s a bitch (Quoted from converstaion with Gounder Brownie) who doesnt want to shine.

Cheers
The Sand Leprechaun

Please feel free to engrave your well mannered comments on the sand book !

First edition of Blogging in the Sand

Welcome to the First edition of blogging in the sand !!

First of all, I’d like to introduce myself . MYself izz the Blogging Sand Leprechaun. Now before I go on further, I must thank my close friend, Gounder Brownie, who unwittingly helped me gather the bravura to make this foray into the world of blogging. It was by chance that I bumped into Gounder Brownie, as it gradually dug through the sand. Now there may arise 2 questions, what was I, a leprechaun doing in the sand and what was a brownie doing diggging. Well, to make things clearer, I’m not the usual leprechaun. The whole myth of leprechauns were that we were a buch of nosy old fools which long beards,wearing an impish smile and guarding a sack of gold. Well, that aint me ! I’m a more hybrid variety of leprechaun, I’m quite tall (somewhere around 2feet in height), with an average build (must be roughly around a 150pounds) and no, I dont wear GREEN clothes. I’ve got lots of colours of clothes, which is probably why they wouldnt let me join the Glorified Leprechaunian Club, which holds its weekly meeting under the sanddune in Brighton Pier. I’m also not “old” (do you really think 250years is old, I’m in my teens for crying out loud), like they very graciously pointed out. However, I do have a big similarity to the other leprechauns…I’ve got tons of gold, and this brings me to the answer to what I was doing in the sand. I was just hiding my gold. If you are quite well accquainted with leprechauns, then you’d probably know that we are damn rich and we try to devise ingenious ways of hiding our “most-sought-after” gold coins.

Well, with the current situation of deforestation happening in full swing, its needless to say, my humble abode under the bark of a giant Chicken tree, was cut down in the process. (Ref Gounder Brownie, conversation dated 08-11-2006,time: 745pm : For my human readers — Chicken tree is the tree on which chickens grow and when they are tired of growing, they just cease to grow and then fall down , and you carnivorous humans pick them up and eat them). Anyway, after incalculable days of searching (it was probably months, you never know time and date when you’re on the run), I finally located my current haven, right outside this beautiful city of Brighton. Initially I found it difficult to dig, since I’m a cobbler by ancestry, and it wasnt made any easier by the fact that Brighton’s beach is mainly pebble oriented. Howeever, I managed to find a great small sandy spot by the beach, where the water wouldnt seep through and the sun wouldnt bother me.

So, I had just settled in and was starting to relax under the impression that nobody would trace me here and wouldnt be able to lay hands on my gold ( which reminds me ..I have absolutely no idea what to do with all this gold), and one wet wintery day, here comes Gounder Brownie, happily burrowing up into the hall of my newly constructed 3 tier(underground) sand castle. As I jumped up in shock of having an uninvited visitor, Gounder brownie quite gleefully shook off all its double decker dust on my clean carpetted floor and made way towards the fireplace( YES..for the umpteenth time..I HAVE A FIREPLACE…It gets really cold !!!). As I stared at it, trying to make sense of where it came from and what a brownie was doing in my castle, it quite freely snuggled by the fire. I strode over to the brownie, quite irritated and decided to give it a piece of my mind , when it suddenly glanced up at me and gave me this sweet little smile, and so to cut this long story short, I decidedly forgave it and we became really good friends.Now, Gounder brownie was this incredibly sooper blogger, who was trying to find some treasure buried in the sand, so that it could sponsor its blogging. As chance happened, it met with a dead end, somewhere deep down in the sand dungeons of brighton and got lost in the grubby maze. So, it was out of sheer desperation that it started to dig upwards and burst like a volcano into my humble abode. So, after a warm glass of tea(yes, we magical creatures do drink tea !), we sat by the fire, and gounder brownie connected my “GOLD” portable computer to the “under-net” and showed me its blogs. So started the fire of blogging within me, which has been vented out in this sand blog today.

So with the blessings of the sand gods and my dear friend the Gounder Brownie ( the worlds only blogging brownie), I submit this first sand blog.

By the way, Gounder brownie, joins me quite often at my sand castle , where we enjoy a nice talk by the fireplace, sipping a glass of salt-free crystalfree sea water, which we purchase from the renowned 99p shop for magical creatures. The only difference between then and now, is that we have 3 other magical pals who havent yet started blogging, but are very much a special part of our club. Just a brief intro for them ……. my soul mate the beaut and charming Sand pixie, and another one of our couple friends Count Soltaar Gnome and the very much unreserved Fräulein Chummy elf

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Until Next time…….

The Sand Leprechaun

Please feel free to engrave your well mannered comments on the sand book !

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