Summertime Feathers & Fish

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Here’s a happy little fellow. These flying fish really do fly. 🙂 Apparently they enjoy warm weather as much as I (and Wallie) do.

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Dinosaur Detective

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It was the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last. Why the Imp and I had decided to draw Sherlock Holmes as a dinosaur beggared all explanation. He wasn’t even wearing a deerstalker.

Oh yeah. Believe it or not, this dinosaur was inspired by Sherlock Holmes.

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The Green Wood Door

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There are lots of doors. Writing is a door. Art is a door. One of the facets of creative work that has always fascinated me most is the ability to inspire creation. When you see really compelling artwork, you don’t just see a 2D image–you see a story–and that is the beginning of your own journey.

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Wallie on Survival

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When Wallie and I were faced with today’s prompt, we were in a bind. We knew that if this blog is to survive it must, well, go on. But when it came to “Survival” we were stuck.

“Write about your dying blog,” said my Friend. “Write about fighting for its life.”

Wallie was more interested in surviving the Jungle Orzos and its evil pear-eating birds.

Here is a mix.

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Calling all Imps!

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Wallie, my Friend, and I are delighted to announce the publication of one of our very own short stories.  And from the perspective of dotty hopefuls, with all the clarity we can manage for being too excited to talk, let alone write with good manners, we wish to share our joy with you via the following shameless promotion.

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Cooking Up Fairies

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When Wallie and I read today’s “Daily Prompt” the first thing I did was put Wallie in the kitchen with a plate of cookies and tell him to behave. If there is one thing Wallie is, it is not self-deprecating. He has a very high opinion of himself.

It can be awkward to share one’s strengths if you are insecure. Some people like to keep their cards hidden. I follow this line, preferring to show the product of my talent and see what others think without praising it myself. After all, it would be terribly awkward if you professed yourself the greatest poet who ever lived and then wrote, I don’t know:

“Tee-hee,” quoth she, and we were shot:

These classics without classic thought!

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