It's My Hill Now

A place for games, jokes and general clean fun and merriment
Forum rules
Please check any gloominess at the door and come inside where mirth and merriment abound! This is the place for games, stories, jokes, and general hilarity—just keep it clean, please, and remember, no deep, thought-provoking discussions allowed! Host: Heddwen
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Squirrel.Boughsong
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Re: It's My Hill Now

Postby Squirrel.Boughsong » 29 Feb 2016, 22:09

I use my transformation powers to become an actual squirrel. I ignore the arsenal of pranks as they are set for a mere human. I climb into the yew tree (planted by Sciethe) and I annoy the current occupant with my squirrelly antics until ,in frustration, they leave. Still transfigured I wait for the next person to annoy away. Nobody suspects the cute and innocent squirrel, until to late! It's my hill now...

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treegod
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Re: It's My Hill Now

Postby treegod » 02 Mar 2016, 10:52

I disintegrate into a swarm of fleas, which hops up the hill and drvies out the squirrel through sheer persistence.

It's my hill now (complete with flea infestation).

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DaRC
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Re: It's My Hill Now

Postby DaRC » 02 Mar 2016, 14:10

The banshee scream of a modern fighter jet ruffled the fur on a rather large feline, flicking his back legs with a barely successful attempt to cover his scat. The scream & subsequent sonic boom fluffed his tail and caused each hair to stand on end. Catalyst scrammed from the
Turkish beach.

During many days of wandering, eating rodents and general feral behaviour he came across a rather large Diatomaceous dust bowl. It was hot and sunny so with feline aplomb he bathed luxuriously in the dust bowl, his back wriggling into the dust. With a start (although no one could see what made him start) he jumps from the bowl and heads back to the hill. The grass was lush, the trees looked scratch-able and he ran with joy upwards, arriving in time to see a plague of fleas bouncing on the grass towards him.

The fleas jumped on his back, the fine dust from his bath absorbed the lipids from the waxy outer layer of those pesky insects' exoskeletons, causing them to dehydrate & die. :redcat:
It's Catalyst's hill now.
Most dear is fire to the sons of men,
most sweet the sight of the sun;
good is health if one can but keep it,
and to live a life without shame. (Havamal 68)
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Acacia
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Re: It's My Hill Now

Postby Acacia » 02 Mar 2016, 21:52

.
Catalyst enjoyed many days lazing about on his hill, and loved his newfound status as "King of the Mountain". (He thought it sounded much grander than "King of the Hill".)

But he was lonely . . . . .

:-(

As I wandered along I came to the foot of the hill. Looking up, I saw Catalyst and asked permission to step onto his territory. Permission granted, I walked to the crest and chatted with him, seeing his loneliness as he talked. I thought, "Hmmmm, he's lonely, and I'm tired of travelling."

:idea:

I told him tales of my adventures, of meeting ShadowCat on a Turkish beach, of the fun ShadowCat and I had enjoyed as we investigated the inns and groves and grottos and beaches of the Turkish countryside. Catalyst listened intently, gradually rising from his slouch and sitting taller. Light came back into his eyes.

He missed ShadowCat.

The next day he booked a ticket on the Orient Express and returned to the Turkish beach and his beloved ShadowCat.

:o

I planted an Acacia to stake my claim and watched as it grew into a lush tree filled with golden, sun-kissed flowers.

:coad:

It's my hill now!
"Trees are sanctuaries.
Whoever knows how to speak to them
Whoever knows how to listen to them
Can learn the truth."

Hermann Hesse.
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ShadowCat
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Re: It's My Hill Now

Postby ShadowCat » 03 Mar 2016, 12:33

While I was lounging lazily I felt a rumble in the ground. With a huge sprint, the Catalyst ran to me, headbumping me as if there is no tomorrow. I scratch his ears, admire his coat and pick out a dead flea from his neck. "Where have you been to, beasty?". With a lot of grunting, purring and meowing, I get the whole story. Hilda, our beloved hill, once declared belonging to everyone and nobody, had been taken again by ruffians staking their claim. This shall not do, o no...

So, together we travel. At the foot of the hill, we stop for a pint of ale at the Pwcca's inn. It's good ale... very goooooooood ale....Catalyst drinks a barrel and then some. Then he runs up the hill, squats next to the puny acacia-shoot and lets the riptide flow. No tree can withstand such an assault of acid and ammonia and the tree witters completely. We trundle up the hill, shoo away Acacia, and make ourselves comfortable and start to catch up on old times with Hilda.

Hilda's so happy to see us, that she doesn't allow anyone else to approach, climb or even burrow towards her. It's our hill now.
Three sounds one should treasure:
the whisper of the wind through the leaves
the songs of one's heart
the callings of the universe

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Acacia
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Re: It's My Hill Now

Postby Acacia » 03 Mar 2016, 23:09

"Shoo'd away" the stories say, but you ain't seen nuttin until you've seen the great Catalyst at full charge. Terrified, I ran for my life, and in my haste stumbled head first into a putrid puddle of mud. Bedraggled, dirty and tired, I made my way to the Pwcca's inn, having heard about the Amazing Ale they serve there. After a welcome warm shower, I sat in front of the fire to contemplate my next move. What to do? I considered many possible ways that I might reconquer the hill.

But, heck, this ale is good . . . :gulp:
"Trees are sanctuaries.
Whoever knows how to speak to them
Whoever knows how to listen to them
Can learn the truth."

Hermann Hesse.
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malcolmb
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Re: It's My Hill Now

Postby malcolmb » 07 Mar 2016, 16:26

Wandering aimlessly through the infinity of space, I sensed a presence. "Who are you?" I asked. Being experienced in the ways of the vacuous ether, I was somewhat surprised to hear "I am Hilda. I am a Hill". "Really" said I, "what is a hill?". "Well, it is a sort of uppy thing with a little top and a big bottom". "Fascinating" said I, "and that is called a hill, is it?" said I. "Yes" said Hilda, "lots of Druids keep rushing around and saying they own me". I laughed. Hilda was somewhat puzzled at my laughter. "Why do your laugh? she asked. "Well" said I, "it's like this":

"Everything is made of atoms" I said. "What is an atom? asked Hilda. "Well, it is a very tiny thing with a sort of middle blob and other very little things going round the blob" I explained. "Lots and lots of these atom thingies get together and when they do, it becomes something, like a hill". "Oh" said Hilda, "so that is what I am made of; atoms". "Correct" said I.

"But" said I, "the trouble with atoms is that they consist of 99.9999999999999999999999999999999% of nothing."

"Oh" said Hilda, "so you are saying I do not exist?"

"Well," said I, "that is a very difficult question to answer". "You might or you might not". "It all depends".

"On what?" asked Hilda.

"Quantum" said I.

"But if I do not exist, then you do not exist" said Hilda. "And neither does Quantum".

"Puzzling, isn't it" said I, being hugely impressed at the keen intelligence of a hill.

"So, all these Druids are rushing around trying to own a hill that doesn't exist and they don't exist either" said Hilda.

"Possibly" said I.

"Hmmm" said Hilda,"I will have to think on this". "While I ponder, would you like to rest here a while on my nothingness?

"How kind", I said.

I now I sit, or possibly float, in eager anticipation of learning how anyone can claim Hilda from me when there is nothing to claim - possibly!

"It's my hill now"!
Peaceful Earth Grove: http://www.peacefulearthgrove.com/


My original "Druid Music" CDs (all proceeds to the charity "Pagan Aid":
https://lylemusic.bandcamp.com/

My original Celtic / Folk / Jazz music at:
http://www.soundclick.com/lylemusic
http://www.soundclick.com/malcolmbrown
http://www.youtube.com/user/LyleMusic

“So many Gods, so many creeds, so many paths that wind and wind. While just the art of being kind, is all the sad world needs.” Ella Wheeler Wilcox

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PeteBranduir
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Re: It's My Hill Now

Postby PeteBranduir » 07 Apr 2016, 01:15

After a year and a half of wandering, turns out SatNav and quantum entanglement don't mix, my army of persons of transient rationality and I arrive and behold the theoretical spectacle before us.

"The benefit of being a macrocosm of atoms is that the space they're full of becomes tangible. Hilda, you are. And if the single electron theory is correct, you always have been." With this I produce Schroedinger's box, set it on the ground and open it. A dishevelled and very much alive, if seethingly angry cat steps out, hisses, and promptly chases malcolmb away.

"It's good to see you again Hilda. I've missed you. If you'll have me back I would very much like to resume our friendship." I say earnestly.

"I've missed you too Pete, I'd love to get reacquainted. If only there were some way to stop all these people running up and interrupting us." She says, mentally embracing me.

"Say no more." I turn to my adoring masses and ask them a boon. "My friends, Would you mind terribly detaining anyone who tries to come up here? Throwing a party with plenty of food and booze, singing, dancing, poetry and story-telling should distract most druids. Love and hugs should detain the rest. I'd be most grateful."

Feeling obliged to me for their freedom, they go about their task of making merriment surrounding the area around Hilda, allowing us the privacy of a chat that two old friends yearn for.

My hill friend.
If at first you don't succeed, I hope it wasn't brain surgery.

Knowledge is knowing that a tomato is a fruit. Wisdom is not putting it in a fruit salad.

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malcolmb
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Re: It's My Hill Now

Postby malcolmb » 07 Apr 2016, 11:20

Leaping and skipping over hill and dale, ‘enjoying’ the experience of exercise for the first time for many years, I heard a coughing behind me. Pausing and turning, I saw the ubiquitous cat coughing and heaving.

“Hairball?” says I.

The Cat nodded.

“So sorry”. “I will wait for you to sort it out”. The cat, quite typically, ignored me.

After a few minutes, the hairball appeared and the cat sat quietly and contentedly grooming. Which gave me pause to consider.

The single electron theory is of course false, I thought. But if it were true, then I am this cat. (The cat sniggered as only a cat can.) Equally, I am also PeteBranduir and being Druid, then logically I am also Hilda. So taking that logic to its ‘logical’ conclusion, I am everything but equally in Quantum terms, I am nothing. To be honest, I had always suspected that.

And as I and my voice faded to an echo on the sweet Spring breeze, my final words drifted to a hill called Hilda.

“May your days be long and happy with PeteBranduir. May your love for each other be strong and beautiful. May the Druids ever feast and carouse in your benevolent shadow. Do not worry about me. I am just a load of Quantum!”

“Hilda, you are, were and always will be Pete now. Possibly!”

http://www.galactanet.com/oneoff/theegg_mod.html
Peaceful Earth Grove: http://www.peacefulearthgrove.com/


My original "Druid Music" CDs (all proceeds to the charity "Pagan Aid":
https://lylemusic.bandcamp.com/

My original Celtic / Folk / Jazz music at:
http://www.soundclick.com/lylemusic
http://www.soundclick.com/malcolmbrown
http://www.youtube.com/user/LyleMusic

“So many Gods, so many creeds, so many paths that wind and wind. While just the art of being kind, is all the sad world needs.” Ella Wheeler Wilcox

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Michael C. Page
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Re: It's My Hill Now

Postby Michael C. Page » 07 Apr 2016, 15:28

And Michael, receiving a post card from Pete, steps out on the terrace of the Burgh Island Hotel. Putting his ear to the wind, he hears the joy coming from Hilda the Hill. The wind changes and he promptly assembles the band on the Lawn with his dance partner and gives this long distance salute to the Fantastic Friends of The Hill.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z2Z1DWI ... tml5=False

Enjoy your Hill now :grin:

:gulp:
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"If a man does not keep pace with his companions,
perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer.
Let him step to the music he hears,
however measured or far away."
- Thoreau

My harp was sacrificed to the Honorable Snarg.


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