Character of the Week #3 Mr Biggles

Say hello to this week’s brand new character of the week…

Just Saying Hello!

Mr Biggles is a lovely, friendly bear, that lives in a wood and knows a great deal about the countryside and our world. He can help you find out about animals, birds and trees in the forests he loves in Britain, and every other living thing on Earth. An expert on what makes the planet as wonderful and powerful as it is, he can tell you about rivers and mountains, skies and seas, earthquakes and volcanoes,  tiny streams and mighty moving floods of water and soil. Also a believer in being a responsible member of the world, Mr Biggles can talk to you about recycling, using electricity and water wisely and how to take care of our environment.

Mr Biggles’ Book

Like every self respecting member of the Storytelling Gang, Mr Biggles has his own book that travels around with him when he meets children in different classroom and storytelling sessions. This one is full of ideas about his friends, the environment, and woodlands in particular. There’s a story about some bears his friend, Bob, met in woods and what they got up to as well. Take a look at some of the pages from the book.

Busy Biggles

Mr Biggles was born only a couple of months ago and has been one of my most popular characters. He was named not by me, but by a pupil I was teaching at one of the schools I visit regularly as a supply teacher. Barely (if you pardon the pun) had his nose poked out of the storytelling bag, when the little burst out with “I know what his name is. It’s Mr Biggles.” Up until that moment I had been thinking of a few different names, and nothing had really seemed right. Well, Mr Biggles it was and it has suited him ever since. There was a brief foray into Mr Biggle, though it didn’t last. Always trust children on these things.

For the past two weeks, Mr Biggles has been working his big strong paws off in Reception classes at a number of schools.  The children have learnt to sequence pictures from a story, to use relative positional language (not in those words), to draw different animal homes and to understand how an acorn grows into an oak tree. For one little boy, he learnt that acorns are called acorns, not oakanuts, which was a hard won contest. Acorns, pine cones, sticks and other outdoor materials were used on one particularly cold and miserable afternoon to create ephemeral art in the classroom, and the pictures were fantastic. The bark rubbing collages totally made by the children were unexpectedly delicious, as they were far more imaginative with their use of shape and colour than I anticipated them to be, which just go to illustrate my earlier point of trusting children of these things.

Anyway, TTFN, and I’ll be back soon!

Embla x

P.S. I will posting news about a competition on Tuesday, so look out for that!

More information coming on Tuesday 1st May


Character of the Week #2 continued!

My favourite alien, Mr Oggy Boggles, is back for another turn as Character of the Week!

Available for sessions in schools and at parties, Mr Oggy Boggles loves telling stories and helping children to write their own. He even has his own book to share with children.

Today, we have been working on adding some illustrations to his story, and we have something to show you. Take a few minutes to enjoy highlights from his life story so far, and then click on the links below to read the full story.

To read Mr Oggy Boggles’ full Origin Story, read on MacDuff:

The Curious Tale of Mr Oggy Boggles – Part One

The Curious Tale of Mr Oggy Boggles – Part Two

Character of the Week #2

This week’s featured character is…

Mr Oggy Boggles comes from the moon, and loves to hear stories. He helps children to develop story writing skills, through his own handmade book

Arriving on Earth after a freak incident on the Moon shook him loose in his little Moon Rock house, Oggy is now on an ongoing mission to seek out new stories and new poetry sessions, to go boldly where one stripey little alien has never before gone (or something like that anyway).

This week, Oggy and I have held high powered talks over cups of tea and packets of Malteasers (what with Moon Cheese being so rare and all, down here on Earth), and we have continued to develop his Go Bananas! Do Stories! Book and series of lesson plans.

As part of that, with his guidance of course, I produced a set of illustrations for Oggy’s book, that can help take writers through the different elements needed to write simple stories.

Mr Oggy Boggles and I are available to come to schools to share his book and discuss the storytelling strategies we’ve come up with together, and may be a story or two with pupils and teachers too, as we both love stories. Follow-up lesson plans and teachers’ packs are available. If you are interested, have a look for more information on booking us here: Storytelling – Information and Fees 

To read Mr Oggy Boggles’ own Origin Story, read on MacDuff:

The Curious Tale of Mr Oggy Boggles – Part One

The Curious Tale of Mr Oggy Boggles – Part Two

The Curious Tale of Mr Oggy Boggles – Part Two

The Curious Tale of Mr Oggy Boggles – Part 2

In the last part of the Curious Tale of Mr Oggy Boggles, we learnt that he was a little alien, all alone on the moon… until his moon rock house broke loose from the moon and started to float through space…

Floating through space was a strange and unusual experience for Oggy and he wasn’t he sure he liked it. Broken bits of cheese plates and his Bob Acorn-Seen mug floated past his head. And his feet tumbled around, and his arms and his antenna felt squirly and whirly. But then the little moon house started to slow down, and his movements started to feel less floaty and more bumpy, as he landed on the floor with a bit of a crash. When he thought about it though, Oggy realised that he wasn’t so much on the floor as on the wall. On the ceiling was his door and windows and his actual floor and ceiling were doing the job of walls. The little moon house began speeding downwards and Oggy held on to what he could as it jolted and banged, and then splashed with an almighty splash, into something cold and wet looking.

Bobbing about for what seemed liked ages, the little moon house was safe and sound, and so was, I am happy to say, Mr Oggy Boggles. Clambering to his feet, he soon gained his sea legs, as his big feet helped him walk about on the wobbly watery boaty like little moon house without even falling over once or feeling smallest bit seasick, which was lucky. Opening the door of his house as if were a hatch of a submarine, Oggy climbed out on to the top and was able to see the sea all around him, and, far off into the distance, something far more interesting… what looked like land.

There were hills and a small town with white painted houses looking back at him. There was a long prom with blue metal rails, and people walking up and down in coats and hats and scarves, eating ice creams and carrying buckets and spades, because it was August and they were meant to be having a good time. Going up the left-hand side of the town was a special train that only went up and down, not along, and tended to make men go a bit pale, children want more ice cream, and women want to close their eyes. There was a short pier with another white building on it, that was full of noises and smells that Mr Oggy Boggles had never heard before, but was sure were very exciting, if you were a bit bigger and braver than him. He was most excited about seeing the beach, an expanse of dark sand and large grey, black stones. If he could reach that beach, he could finally meet actual people and have friends of his own, hear stories and watch the lips that are telling them, and actually find out if marshmallows taste as good as he believes them to be.


Teaching Packs

Coming soon…

I am busy right now developing new teaching packs for you! These come in three forms:

THE BIG IDEA – specially designed units of work, containing lesson ideas, plus suggested stories, resources, and related topics and further steps
THE BIG PACK – a topic overview based on a stories or related texts, lesson plans, downloadable resources, suggested resources, resource packs available to purchase
THE WHOLE DEAL – the Big Idea or the Big Pack deal, plus sessions with EmblaBee in school, via Skype

Full support and consultation offered with every pack sold. Special offers and orders taken for themes not listed (if your topic is not listed, please ask).

Image by Jack Moreh

Topics under development at the moment:


Shakespeare – MacBeth, Henry V

Traditional Tales – Wolf Tales (such as Little Red Riding Hood) and so on

Local Myths and Legends (Shropshire and Mid-Wales)

A Shropshire Lad and On Wenlock Edge

Woodland Creatures


Significant Women in History – Boadicca, Florence Nightingale, Mary Seacole, Suffragettes, Mary Anning, Grace Darling, Anne Hathaway (both of them!), the Bronte sisters

World War One, including Wilfred and Susan Owen


The Titanic

Great Fire of London




Civil War – English and American

Space – Man on the Moon and other stories that are out of this world!

Image by Jack Moreh


How Bob Came To Be And Other Strange Things


How Bob Came To Be and Other Strange Things

This is the story of a little creature called Bob and how he came to be. He is small and brown and looks a bit like an acorn, only a bit bigger and he has a very happy face. His favourite things are cake and chocolate and he’s very excited when they come together in the same thing such as chocolate cake. But this story isn’t about cake or chocolate; it is about him. You see, he wasn’t always. There was a time when there wasn’t a Bob, as hard as that may seem, but thankfully, now there is and I, for one, am very glad of that.

One snowy Christmas evening, many years ago, an old, old man was out in the woods looking for lichen to feed his reindeer. They had been busy all night and all day, flying all over the world, giving presents to good children and their grown-ups (even some of the naughty ones, if they said sorry and really, really meant it), so the old, old man decided that the reindeer definitely deserved a treat and they loved to lichen more than anything, even more than mince pies and carrots and sherry.

However, the old, old man had a problem. In fact, it was a big problem. I’d almost go so far as to say that it was big, big problem or an even a big, big, big problem. Do you remember me saying it was snowy evening? It was a very snowy evening and was rapidly becoming an extremely snowy night and the old, old man was getting colder and colder and older and older and more and more tired. He could really do with some help. If you or I had been there, I’m sure we would have given him a hand and looked for some, or something else nice that those reindeer would have liked as a treat after all their hard work. But it was a long time ago and neither you or I were around then, so what could be done?

Well, let me tell you… The old, old man was special and always, always kept a bit of magic in his pocket. You can’t see magic, so sometimes fairies and the magical folk add a bit of glitter or sparkle to help you see it all happen. On that snowy, cold night he took the magic from his pocket, which in those days looked little pouch tied to his belt, and ten particularly handsome acorns he found when he was looking for the lichen. Can you guess what he did? He sprinkled the magic all over the acorns and they came to life when he touched them and named them. He called them awake: “Wake-up Abigail, wake-up Bob, wake-up Carla, wake-up David, wake-up Evie, wake-up Frankie, wake-up Grace, wake-up Harry, wake-up Ieuan and wake-up Jemima.”

“Hello,” they all said, apart from Bob, who was still half-asleep and only managed a yawn.

“You are my special wood elves,” said the old, old man, “and I would like you to help me find some lichen for my reindeer. Will you please help me? We are very tired, and my reindeer have worked hard this night and I would like to reward them for being so good.”

“Of course, we will, yes, of course!” said all of the wood elves, apart from Bob, who said “pardon?” and ate a leaf, spat it out and scratched his ear.

The wood elves ran about searching for lichen and were off hither and thither in their pursuit. Bob fell over in the snow, made a snow angel, threw a snowball at a grumpy red-nosed reindeer who told him off, built a snow reindeer and ate some juicy berries that some hippity-hoppity birds said were lovely. But he didn’t find any lichen.

The old, old man sat down on a log and looked tired. Bob noticed and went and sat down next to him. “Yous alright?” asked Bob.

“I love my job,” said the old, old man, “but I do get a bit tired sometimes.”

“What yous bin doin’ then? Lots of stuff wiv them reindeer?”

“We’ve been travelling the world and giving presents to everyone who deserves one.”

“What? The wholes world? Is it bigger than the wholes wood?”

“Much, much bigger, yes, so huge, little Acorn, that you couldn’t see it if you were the mightiest Oak tree that there ever was in all of time.”

“Ooooh. And all them peoples that gets presents, is that just the goods ones then, that can’t be very many.”

“It is everyone.”

“Do you get the presents from a shop? I hear the hoomens talkin’ abouts them as they do walkin’ hereabouts.”

“Some of them. Some of them are extra special.”

“That must tek yous ages long to get everyones everything.”

“It does. A whole year, nearly. The Mrs and I have a little holiday about Easter time.”

“Do you has anyone to helps you, but grumpy reindeer?”

“Oh yes, I have all my elves at the North Pole, and the Mrs, of course.”

“Elves like us?” Bob was quite excited by the thought of there being more elves somewhere else. He was new to the world and everything is amazing when you are new to the world.

“Not quite like you, no,” said the old, old man. It wasn’t clear by the way he said that if he meant the wood elves he’d just created or Bob in particular, but I suspect he meant Bob. There really is nothing quite like Bob.

“Ooooh.” Bob was thoughtful for a moment. This was an achievement. It was the first time in his life he had ever actually done such a thing. Eventually, he said “I bin sleeping on the ground for ages and it was borin’, but all the time I knows I was gunna to grow and be summat brill n that. There was times I’d bins thunking I’d be a mouse’s lunchburger and that was scaretwizzling, I tells yer. When there’s something horrorlurking or just dullsville, there’s alus summat good coming, in’t there? E’en if it you dun’t know what it’ll be. I didn’t know I was gunna be snowsplayin’ today, but I is right now. I dun’t know why or how much lunger it’s be lasting n that, but it ain’t haf grand. Sems to me, whateves yer do is wuf doing if it meks yer feel gud or meks someone else heppy”.

The old, old man and Bob looked at their feet, or in Bob’s case, what were almost feet, for a moment.

“Whats can I be doing for yous?” asked Bob. The old, old man realised two things at this point. First, that Bob had up until that point had totally missed the point of what he was meant to be doing. He hadn’t collected any lichen and didn’t even know he was meant to looking for it. Second, that the other wood elves hadn’t seen how wonderful the world was around them or chosen to offer their help, they just did what they were told, but Bob, as maddeningly distractable as he was, had a heart full of wonder and wanted to live and grow.

“Little Acorn Bob,” said the old, old man, “I want you to do two things for me. You seem to know these woods very well for such a small fellow, can you find me some lichen for my reindeer? They are grumpy because they are tired too after a busy day and I think they deserve a treat. When you come back, I will tell you the second thing I want you to do for me.”

“I wills do all that rights aways, I wills,” said Bob, and he did.




A little while later, all the wood elves gathered back by the old, old man and the reindeer. The old, old man had built a beautiful, big fire and had brewed a lovely pot of tea for himself and warmed some ice and snow to make a drink for his reindeer. The wood elves piled up their lichen proudly, and the old, old man was just about to thank them politely for their efforts when one of them pointed out that Bob was nowhere to be seen. All of the other wood elves started to laugh and say that Bob was probably off playing somewhere again. The old, old man said nothing; he had faith in his little friend. With that a huge pile of lichen seemed to stagger towards them and collapse in heap, next to the much smaller collection made by the wood elves. “Hellos there,” said Bob, suddenly appearing from behind it all. “I found a bit for yer, but excuse me, I’lls be back in mo,” and promptly disappeared, leaving everyone aghast, everyone but the old, old man, of course, of course.

Two minutes later, another staggering heap appeared with two tiny little brown legs underneath. Bob had brought another huge pile of lichen. The reindeer licked their lips and it was a bit of struggle for the old, old man to hold back them back from eating it all up there and then, and possibly Bob too.

“Well, goodness me,” said the old, old man, “fantastic work! Well done all of you, but especially well done Bob! I thank you, and my reindeer thank you. I am sure they will really enjoy this lovely treat. However did you manage to find so much Bob?”

“I asked the tweetie hippity-hoppers, they knows everything,” said Bob, with authority.

“Right, my fine little acorns,” the old, old man announced, “it is time for you to go back to sleep, settle down now, back to where you belong. May all of nature protect and guard you so that you will become fine, fine oak trees, growing strong and tall, proud and beautiful, giving shelter and life to all.” The wood elves found their places back in the wood, here and there, high and low, settling down snug in the earth, deep beneath the blanket of white, white snow, and slowly turned back into the fantastical seeds they had once been. All of them that is, except, of course, guess who? Bob.

Bob got a bit lost at first, but he’d found his place, which was close to the old, old man’s camp for the night, and he’d started to snuggle down into the earth. Then he realised that his elven brothers and sisters were changing, and he, well, wasn’t.

“’Cuse mes, Mr Old Man, sirs,” asked Bob, rather bemused “I was listenin’ n all, and I think I was doing it all right and that, but how come I is still here and talkin’ and they all isn’t and are all lyin’ there like there was afore.”

“You have forgotten one thing Bob, haven’t you?” the old, old man said.

“No, I ain’t. I listened right hard wiv both me ears and l looked wiv both of me eyes and I used my thunkiling brain n all. You told us to back to where we was and go to slep, and I did what yous said and watched the others to mek sure n everythink.” Bob was getting really upset by now. There were big tears appearing his acorny eyes. The old, old man bent down and picked him up and stroked him to make him feel better. “Oh Bob, good Bob, best little Acorn Bob, you have done all that could ever want you to do. I asked you much earlier to do me two favours, one was to collect lichen for my reindeer, which you did marvellously. Going to sleep was my request for the other wood elves, not for you. I have one other favour I ask of you, my dear little friend.”

“Oh, well, that’s alright then,” Bob sniffed a big sniff and gave the old, old man and huge, if a bit snotty, “what tis it?”

“I’d like you to live, Bob.”


“Just as you have today. Enjoy life and do all you can. See the fun when there’s grey skies. Help other people when you can. Seek out adventures and take other people with you, if they are only a step away. Can you do that, Bob?”

“Living is easy, it’s jus’ breathing in and out.”

“There’s more to it than that, you know.”

“Oh, I knows that, there’s the thunking and stuff. But breathing is the most importantest bit.”

And that is how one old, old man gave his last gift one dark snowy Christmas night. And how Bob came to be.






Adventure Time

On Saturday, I am going to a party as a storyteller. Based around the theme of NIALL’S ISLAND, there will be dinosaurs, wild beasts, mermaids, pirates, an enchanted forest,  Mexican Skull Rock, a volcano and many adventures. I will tell tales and lead games, help make maps, pictures and ornaments. Can’t wait!

UPDATE:  And didn’t we have a lovely time? The party was a great success, with the children happy from the start. They loved the games and map making, and all had a go at being creative in the arty area. There were lots of positive comments from children and parents alike – with one little boy saying ‘it’s the best party ever!’

The 31 Days of Scary – Day 31 FINAL ENTRY

And this is it… The final entry for the 31 days…


Godfather Death

This tale is one of the lesser known from the collected tales of Grimm brothers, but is perfect for a dark, chilly night. Don’t read it just before bedtime or to very young children, as it contains some imagery that will give you the shivers…


Image by Annie Spratt

Once, long ago, there was a poor man with twelve children, and with so many children he had to work day and night just to feed them. When the thirteenth was born, the man didn’t know what to do, as now he had one more mouth to feed. So, he just ran out into the street outside his house, which was the broad street that you get in all towns of a certain age with houses that have a bigger top than their bottom, to look for someone he thought might be useful. He’d decided to ask the first man he met to be his new son’s godfather, because a godfather would help his child now and in the future, with things like having enough food, clothes, somewhere to live and getting a job.

The first man he encountered was the good Lord, who knows all our troubles, so knew already what the poor man was worried about, and said, “Poor man, I feel sorry for you. I’ll be your child’s godfather, and I shall take care of him and see that he’s happy on earth.”

“Who are you?” asked the ma, a bit puzzled about how this guy seemed to know so much already.

“I am your dear Lord.”

“Then I don’t want you to be godfather,” said the man. “You give to the rich and let the poor go hungry. Turning away from God, the poor man moved on.

Next, the devil came up to him and said, “What are you looking for? If you make me your child’s godfather, I’ll give him plenty of gold and all the pleasures of the world as well.”

“Who are you?” asked the man.

“I’m the devil.”

“Then I don’t want you to be godfather,” the man said. “You deceive people and lead them astray.”

The poor man continued on his way, and soon spindle-legged Death came toward him and said, “Take me as godfather.”

“Who are you?” the man asked.

“I’m Death, and I make all people equal.”

“Well, fair enough then,” said the man. “You’re the right one. You take the rich and poor alike without making distinctions. I want you to be my child’s godfather.”

“I shall make your child rich and famous,” Death answered. “Indeed, whoever has me for a friend shall never know need.”

“Next Sunday is the christening,” said the man. “Make sure you’re there on time.” One thing that you can be certain of in life is that Death will never miss an appointment. When the time came, he appeared as he had promised, and he made for a very proper godfather. I wasn’t surprised by that. Death can be kind, sometimes.


When the boy was old enough, his godfather appeared one day and told him that it was time for him to follow him. He led him into the forest, showed him a herb that grew there, and said, “Now, you shall receive your christening gift. I’m going to make you into a famous doctor. Whenever you are called to look after a sick person, I will be there with you. If I stand next to the head of the patient, you can tell them that you’ll make them well again. Then give them some of the herb, and they’ll get better. But, if I stand near their feet, they’re mine, and there’s nothing you can do. You’ll have to explain that no doctor in the world can save them and there’s no treatment that can be used to cure them. Above all , remember one thing, you must NEVER use the herb against my will or you shall be in for trouble.”

It is wise to not argue with Death. Once he has made up his mind, that is usually it. He never forgets a deal he’s made.


With backing from Death himself, it didn’t take long for the young man to become the most famous doctor in the whole world. His reputation was such that people said, “He only has to look at a sick person, and he can tell what’s up and if they’ll get better or not. Oooh, he’s brilliant.” Everyone was asking for his help, from far and wide, and he was paid very handsomely, which pleased his poor old father and his mother, and all his siblings back at home.

One day, the king of that beautiful country fell from his horse and lay in his bed with many injuries, both seen and unseen. The ministers and advisors didn’t know what to do, until a maid suggested they called this young doctor that everyone had been talking about that had cured the famous actress, Greta Pursloviska, and the Archiduke Marcus, a well-respected politician, a rare thing then, as well as now. Arriving at the palace, the young man was nervous about what his diagnosis would mean for his nation and for him. The king was much beloved by us, his people, and there were ministers and advisors close to him that would be up to no good in the country if they lost the king now, with his children not old enough to take power themselves. He also feared that if the king were to die, then the blame would fall at the feet of his doctor and that would not be a good position to be in, especially in politically troubled times. When he approached the bed, Death was standing at the feet of the king. So, he knew there was no cure possible.

If only I could cheat Death just once, thought the doctor. Of course, he’ll not like it, but since I’m his godson and these are desperate days, perhaps he’ll let it pass. It’s worth a try. So, he picked up the sick man carefully and turned him the other way around, which meant that Death stood by his head. Then he gave him some of the herb, and the king began to recover immediately and became well again. But Death went to the doctor, pointed his finger at him, and threatened him with angry and sinister looks.

“Well, that was sneaky. Because you’re my godson, I’ll forgive you this once. But if you do anything like this just once more, I myself shall come and take you away and that’ll be an end to you and everything else in this story!” With that, Death left the scene, and the young man stayed in the palace to tend for his patient.

The young doctor became a fixture at court and quite a favourite of the king and his family. I can tell you now, he attended every feast, every masquerade, every hunt, every special occasion the royals in that country wanted to celebrate or commemorate. Over the next few years, he continued to gain fame and wealth, but best of all, he started to catch the eye of the eldest daughter of the king, and she started to catch his eye too. We all knew what they were thinking.


One day, the king’s daughter fell seriously ill. She was his oldest child and most beloved daughter, and he wept day and night that he could no longer see out of his eyes. Then he issued a proclamation that whoever saved his daughter from death would soon become her husband and inherit the crown. We were anxious for news out in the street and we held candles outside the palace gates and waited. The doctor, already half distraught with grief, knew that he had to save this girl. But when the doctor approached her bed, he saw Death at her feet.

Of course, he should have remembered his godfather’s warning, yet love is such a powerful force that he was swayed by the great beauty of the princess and the happiness he saw in the future being her husband. Truly, I believe he wouldn’t have cared about the penalty he’d have to pay, even if he had thought about it. As it was, even though Death gave him angry looks, raised his hand, and threatened him with his bony fist, the doctor refused to take any notice and carried on anyway. Going to her, and kissing her lightly on the cheek, he then gently lifted the maiden, put her head where the feet had been, and gave her the herb. Immediately her cheeks flushed red, and life could be seen stirring in her once more.

Death was not happy to find himself cheated out of his claim a second time, and he strode up to the doctor and said, “It’s all over for you! Right then, come on you, it’s your turn to die.”

He grabbed the doctor so hard with his icy hand that the young man had no power to resist, and was dragged away without another word or even the hint of a fight. Thrown on the back of Death’s mighty white horse, they flew across the countryside and into the air like a shooting star, landing with a thunderclap in the forest he’d been taken to as a small boy.

Death led him down into an underground cave. There the doctor saw thousands and thousands of candles burning in countless rows, some large, some medium, others small, leading onwards and down, into the endless fathoms of earth beneath them, around the countless bends and twists of the cavern. With every moment some of the candles went out and others soared up again, so that the little flames seemed to be constantly flickering and flaring, waving and drowning.

“You see,” said Death, “these candles are the lights of people’s lives. The large ones usually belong to children, the medium ones to married couples in their best years, the small ones to old people. But, you know, often children and young people can have small candles too. Life and death are never what you expect.”

“Show me my life candle,” the doctor said, looking around for a large candle.

Death pointed to a tiny stub that was just about to go out and said, “There it is. Do you see it there?”

“Oh, dear godfather,” the doctor was struck by horror, “you’d better light a new one for me! My candle can’t go out now. I’m about to marry the girl I love and be a king, and…”

“I can’t,” replied Death. “First one candle must go out before a new one can be lit.”

“Well, there must be something you can do! This is your place, your rules,” the doctor stuttered, “You can put my one on top of a new candle, so it will still burn after the little bit goes out.”

Death reached for a large new candle, but made a mistake in transferring the stub, and it went out. All at once the doctor fell to the ground and had indeed fallen into the hands of Death. As I said at the start of this tale, the only thing you can be sure of in life is death never missing an appointment once it has been made, when all is said and done.


Source: The Complete Fairy Tales of the Brothers Grimm, translated by Jack Zipes

The 31 Days of Scary – Day 29 and Day 30

My first Halloween storytelling session has now taken place with a group of lovely children. They had two scary stories, games, songs (like a wolf) and treats, and we all had fun. 

Photo Gallery

First Review in…

“You were awesome! Everyone really enjoyed it. It’s lovely to see the art of storytelling in all it’s glory! I don’t think we spend enough time telling stories when children get a bit older and you bring it to life so magically.” Annie F-M