Showing posts with label mini-mcgonks. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mini-mcgonks. Show all posts

Monday, 8 April 2013

Hooter McGonk Goes in Search of the Trolls!

The Trolls!


Despite the many, many times the little mini-McGonks are told not to venture off out of site, alone, the disappearance of Beag has everyone mystified. Nobody saw him go, nobody alerted anyone else as to his disappearance and nobody has seen him since he vanished from the standing stones. It was really upsetting Hooter, as he was missing his best friend, so he decided to go off in search of the missing mini-McGonk all by himself.

He knew he wasn't supposed to go near the lochs, rivers or streams on his own... but he did!

Off he went, following the edge of the long, straight burn that ran alongside the lane. The water was deeper than usual, faster flowing than usual and colder than usual. All that melting snow had to go somewhere.

After what seemed like hours, Hooter eventually came to the dark and scary twin caves, home of the Trolls. How often had he been told NEVER to talk to Trolls, NEVER to get in their way and NEVER to go near the Twin Caves? He couldn't even count that high, let alone tell how often, but Hooter wasn't to be put off in the least. With the arrival of the Goth Clan, nobody would notice him missing for a few hours.

Along the riverbank he scrambled, across the rocky bridge and then he began his precarious descent, clinging for dear life to the rocks, grasses and mosses that surrounded the entrances to the terrifying twin caves. Almost there... now Hooter was able to lean forward a little, just enough to peer inside the first cave.

An awful and hideous noise could be heard - a gurgling, hissing, growling sound, but more terrifying than that,  TWO PAIRS OF EYES were staring straight back at him! It was the most horrible site that poor little Hooter had ever seen! The memory of those bright green and red eyes, glowing from the blackness beyond the mouth of the first tunnel would haunt him forever! How he wished he had done as he was told and kept away from such dangers.

Hooter was terrified! He froze to the spot, unable to climb a single step further for fear he would fall or, worse still, be captured by the terrible trolls! But worse was to come. The trolls were pulling the moss and grasses right from beneath his feet and his safe hiding place was crumbling around him!

Hooter felt himself falling, slipping and sliding, air whooshing past him as he tumbled faster and faster, plummeting downwards and finally splashing into the icy waters below. Darkness descended and he could remember no more.

 This was not good! Beag was never going to be found at this rate and now there's a second missing McGonk that nobody at Thrift Cottage even knows has gone missing!

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Sunday, 7 April 2013

Meeting the Rock Man of Clays Hill

He's So Dependable!

It feels as though the McGonks have stolen away the days! I know they haven't, but I really haven't got a clue where all the time has gone. All that I do know is that the search continues for litte Beag McGonk and all hands are on deck to help with the search... no stone will be unturned, although try telling that to the Rock Man of Clays Hill
 
The prickly gorse is coming into bloom and giving the place a lovely yellow glow, despite there still being snow lying on the sheltered slopes. Luckily, McGonks seem oblivious to the sharp little thorns, but they do still get caught up now and again.
 
We were kind of hoping that perhaps Beag had become tangled in the gorse and that we'd find him there, munching his way through the flowers or fermenting them into sweet gorse wine, but it wasn't to be - he was nowhere to be seen.
 
mini mcgonkHooter McGonk climbed to the very top of the hill and could see for many miles, but he still couldn't see his brother. On he tramped, searching under rocks and calling from the tops of rocks, peering around rocks and looking over rocks... he could see right over the top of the forest, but he couldn't see the lost Beag! He could, however, see a face looking at him, watching his every move!
It was the grinning face of the Rock Man of Clays Hill!
 
"Follow the Sneach," he cried, "they'll uncover the missing Beag!"
 
Excitedly, the little McGonk clambered down the rocky hill and went off in search of Bhreac, for it was he who was in charge of investigating the dangerous snowly slopes - they are simply too dangerous for the mini McGonks. Far off, in the distance, he could see the tell tale signs... the trampled snow leading to what looked like the gateway to the home of the Sneach!

I wonder what he'll find?
 

Tuesday, 2 April 2013

I Spy Beag McGonk!

Could it Really be True? Has Beag Been Found?


Beag McGonk
Today we took Bhreac McGonk out for a trip to see if we could spot the missing Beag, but there are still no signs of him.

Several miles along the road, the tiny speckled McGonk had an idea!

Off he wobbled, onwards and upwards, struggling to climb the many, many steps to reach the top of an ancient fort.

From so high up, Bhreac could see for many, many miles, including all the way across the water to the Isle of Man! (There's still snow on the hills over there, too.)

But there were no clues as to the whereabouts of the missing Beag.

A little further along, we came to a lane leading to yet another fort - everyone knows Beag loved to climb - trees, hills, fells,  rocks, ruins, rubble, motehills and, of course, forts. So, off we went, along the lumpy, bumpy farm track until we could get no further - the path leading up to the once fortified fell summit was blocked by snow! About turn, retrace steps and resume our journey to wherever we were going.

Suddenly, Bhreac, who was peering through his tiny binoculars, searching the horizon, let out an almost inaudible, squeaky screech and became very animated, bouncing around in a most excited manner - he had spotted Beag McGonk in the far off distance!

He could just make him out and no more... along the road,  across two fields, beyond a car park and over a wall! It looked as though Beag had lost his Tam O'Shanter but Bhreac was convinced it was him, for sure!

Being so excited to see his little friend, Bhreac just took off - almost falling down a ditch as he scurried closer and closer.

On and on he ran, scrambling through snow drifts, under wire fences, between the slats of farm gates, across the car park and clambering up and over the huge stone wall that separated him for his long lost friend... and then he stopped in stunned disbelief!

No longer could he see his dear little buddy, Beag, instead, he could see... an alpaca, lying snoozing just behind the wall!

As Mr Alpaca turned to look at him, he couldn't help but giggle at the absurdity of it all. But that really did look like Beag McGonk sitting between the ears of this particular creature, especially from such a distance and with the benefit of wishful thinking.

Bhreac quickly explained to the still sleepy, wooly, furry beast about the loss of his friend and was reassured that all the animals in the park would keep an eye out for the missing Beag while spreading word to the other creatures, including the birds in the trees and the fowl on the ground.

With a cheeky little grin, the alpaca promised to have a search party combing the length and breadth of the parish in no time.

And so ended Bhreac's big adventure of the day... I wonder if we'll be any close to solving the mystery toorrow?

Thursday, 28 March 2013

McGonk Meets the Easter Bunny

In Search of the Missing 'Beag' McGonk


Beag McGonk


As you all know, my favourite little 'Beag' McGonk went missing in action a few weeks ago, completely vanishing without trace. A search party was deployed on several occasions without success and now, with the onslaught of this Siberian Spring, heavy snowfall has brought the searching to a temporary halt.
 
McGonks love nothing more than to explore, so we're hoping that Beag simply wandered off and forgot he was supposed to return home to Thrift Cottage. They can be very, very forgetful little creatures but they can also be very naughty, especially the diminutive micro-McGonks! Beag disappeared after a trip to Torhouse Stone Cirlce, when he was last seen heading towards Wigtown, Scotland's national book town.

Hooter McGonk
Earlier today, a little visitor arrived in the shape of Hooter McGonk,  a nosy wee character who was adamant that he go in search of his wayward cousin as soon as possible, despite the weather conditions. Much debating went on until we could debate no more and off he scampered, out into the snowy lands of Frugaldom to begin his own investigation into the mysterious disappearance of Beag. What he hopes to achieve in this weather is anyone's guess, as he's barely visible himself when wading through the chilly white carpet provided by Mother Nature. He doesn't care how high or how low he has to search, but search he will until he discovers the whereabouts of his cousin, 'Beag'.
 
 
Following the invisible Sneach
Through the snowy fields he clambered, climbing drifts and exploring icy tunnels and igloos made by the Sneach - a clan of seemingly invisible, white Mcgonks of the north who over-winter in Galloway. They're normally quite easy to spot, as we don't usually have this amount of snow, but to our human eyes these snow McGonks are undetectable during times such as these. It was amazing to watch Hooter communicating with them, chattering away, following in their footsteps. We could see their tracks, but it is impossible to spot a Sneach even on such a glorious day as today.
Climbing the tree
The Sneach McGonks led us all a merry dance, poor Hooter was exhausted by the time he got back to Thrift Cottage. First they suggested he climb as high as he could to survey the snowly landscape. Up he climbed, higher and higher, his little nose getting redder and redder. Several times he had to scuttle for cover under gnarled branches, as passing blackbirds kept mistaking his nose for a juicy red berry they'd overlooked on the Hawthorn! What a to do that would have been, losing Hooter to a scavenging blackbird!
 
Poor wee Hooter - he climbed as high up the tree as he could possibly go and then the mischievous Sneach McGonks closed their eyes and disappeared from sight, camouflaged to perfection against the glistening snow! Even Hooter was having trouble spotting them, but he could still hear them chattering away, calling out instructions to him and making tracks in the snow for him to follow.
 
From his viewpoint, far up the tree, Hooter could see so many tracks in the snow that he didn't know which to follow. The Sneach were everywhere and nowhere to be seen, but there seemed to be a great deal of trampling and stamping coming from the direction of the burn, very close to the home of the Trolls!
 
Carefully, Hooter picked his way back down the tree and headed towards the deep, dark, watery cave, convinced that the Sneach wouldn't lead him into danger. They may be cheeky and impish, but they certainly weren't evil or cruel.
The Trolls' Cave
The mouth of the cave looked spooky, the banks were slippery and cloaked in deep snow and there was a whispering, gurgling echo coming from deep within the tunnel.
 
Hooter crawled over the bridge and gingerly stuck his head inside to call out to the Trolls, asking for their help in finding his lost cousin. The echoing whisper that rushed from the cave mouth was unmistakable, audible to all around, incuding the multitude of Sneach that had surrounded the area - if the footprints were anything to go by, that is!
 
"Speak to the Easter Bunny!" the voices murmured, repeating the same command over and over again...

Avalanche alert!
Great commotion broke on the embankment, with a flurry of snow as the Sneach scurried to help Hooter back from the water's edge, leading him along the lane at top speed, back along the path they had previously come. It was tough going for Hooter, he was slipping and sliding all ways, trying to balance precariously between snow drifts, ruts and ridges.
 
Suddenly, he felt the ground move beneath him! In a panic, he became rooted to the spot, feeling the tremors rippling underfoot. He expected to feel himself plunge through chasms of icy darkness at any minute, disappearing throught the deep snow, never to be seen again.
 
What a predicament to be in, out on his first major search and rescue mission only to find himself in need of rescuing! That's when he suddenly realised that the Sneach Clan members were rolling about the ground like tiny snowballs, giggling and laughing uncontrollaby.
 
How curious!
 
"Look down," they yelled in glee, "look down, now!"
 
Peering carefully downwards, Hooter soon saw the reason for such myrth - he wasn't clinging for dear life to an icy peak waiting to be swept into  the snowy abyss by some ground-shaking avalanche...
 
Hooter had woken the Easter bunny, who had been sitting by the wall, like hare waiting for tortoise, enjoying a little nap before his very, very busy weekend arrived!
 
Shrieking with delight, Hooter slid to safety and apologised profusely to Easter Bunny. He quickly explained his predicament and told the bunny how the Sneach had led him to the Trolls and how the Trolls had sent him in search of the Easter Bunny.
 
To all of this, the bunny responded with one word ...
 
"PATIENCE!"
 
Whatever could he mean?

Wednesday, 20 March 2013

Beag McGonk Missing in Action

Hello from the McGonks of Thrift Cottage


I'd like to begin this blog with an apology for the lengthy absence. Sadly, there have been several pieces of bad news received in Frugalom, none less so than the loss of poor little Beag McGonk.

Beag was our mini-mascot, our micro McGonk hero who was in serious training in an effort to guarantee his place on the expedition to Ben Nevis in May.

His last expedition took him rock climbing to an ancient stone circle known as Torhouse. This is the last place he was seen, when leaving the stone circle en route to investigate some nearby standing stones before supposedly heading home. Sadly, when we arrived home and rallied the troops, the ting 'Beag' was missing nd has never been seen again. We all hope that by some lucky chance, he met a new family and was able to go home with them to enjoy life some place new. We'll always he searching for him, regardless, so if you ever happen pon a small grey gonk with pink nose and feet and a little blue tartan Tam o'Shanter hat, please let us know that he is safe and well in your care.

It has taken a few weeks to recover from a rather busy (and sad) spell but we hope that now, this being the vernal equinox, will be a fine time to begin again and the first thing needing done is to make a suitable replacement Beag McGonk.

There's also news of McGonk troops being rallied for a special event in April, but more on that soon.

Until next time,
Clan McGonk.
www.mcgonks.com
 

Tuesday, 8 January 2013

Beag McGonk's Port to Fort Challenge

Beag's Big World

Isn't it funny that 'Beag', which is pronounced in similar way to 'bug', is Gaelic for small?
 
I love the name, it's so apt for the tiny Beag McGonk! He's only about 6cm tall, so there's no problem in taking him anywhere he wants to go...
 
The trouble is, he wants to go here - Cafe Beag . It's a very long way for a very small McGonk, as Port William is over 200 miles from Fort William. In fact, I'm sure he's mixed up his ports with his forts, hence the reason he discovered it in the first place. So, to satisfy his tiny need for huge adventure, we have promised Beag the trip of his lifetime - a trip to Cafe Beag for the holiday weekend in May.
 
BUT there are conditions to be met!
 
Can you guess what they might be?
 
  1. Beag must be fit enough to make the trip
  2. The trip must be frugal - there's a budget of only £150
  3. Once there, Beag must make it to the top of the hill behind Cafe Beag, and it's a big one!





Ben Nevis
Foter / CC BY-SA
This is what towers above the tiny Cafe Beag... it's not only the highest mountain in Scotland, but the highest mountain in the United Kingdom. If Beag wants his cuppa in Cafe Beag, he's going to have to climb that mountain and fly the flag for Frugaldom!

It's going to be a huge adventure, so the Challenge began yesterday, on January 7th 2013 - 140 days to the day that Beag should be homeward bound after his enormous challenge.

Meanwhile, we're eagerly awaiting news of his fellow clan member who took off from Gatwick Airport (London) yesterday and was making his way to Egypt.

2013 is shaping up to be a rather exciting year for McGonks, so there may be quite a few tales to tell as Beag and his buddies prepare for their adventures. I hope you will join us and follow their exploits.

If you happen to be lucky enough to adopt a McGonk that you'll share your photos on our Facebook page www.facebook.com/ClanMcGonk and join us on Twitter www.twitter.com/McGonks.

The website is being developed at www.mcgonks.com where you will find links to all of the above along with any important updates.

We'll be back soon to bring you more news of McGonks' 'Port William to Fort Wiliam' preparations challenge, now dubbed our 'Port to Fort Challenge'.

Sunday, 9 December 2012

Beag's Sunny, Sunday Mini Adventure



MEET BEAG!

In the Gaelic language, the word 'beag' means small. As expected, the way we say the word depends on our dialects and accents, so to make things easy, it sounds quite like 'BUG'. Personally, I think it's a fantastic name for any of the micro McGonks!

This is Beag (Bug). He's grey, measures about 6cm high, has a pink button nose, pink felt 'shoes' and wears a blue tartan Tam o' Shanter with a tiny white pompom on top. Beag McGonks are great, they can be clipped onto almost anything and go anywhere without causing too much of a fuss - handbags, keys, zippers, bicycles...
 
But first, a little bit about Tam o' Shanter:

Tam o' Shanter is the character in a very famous poem of the same name written by Robert Burns. (You can find the poem in its entirety HERE.) Rabbie Burns, as he's commonly referred to, is possibly Scotland's most famous and influential poet. His birthday is celebrated every year on 25th January on "Burns' Night", when all good McGonks eat the customary haggis, neaps and tatties (haggis, turnip and potatoes) for dinner. Official Burns' Supper events are held all around the country and wherever else you find McGonks - I mean Scots! The Tam o'Shanter hat is the flat tartan cap that was often worn by Scotsmen of that time and so-named after the poem's main character, Tam.
 
Today the sun shone and the outdoors beckoned. Beag McGonk couldn't really go for a gallop on his trusty steed, Black Bess, so he donned his Tam o'Shanter, wrapped up against the blustering wind, hitched up the bike and had a wander along the local lanes. The views on such days can literally blow you away, but there really wasn't much to see by way of life - no cows, no sheep, no birds flying overhead, no herons by the stream. In fact, not a soul in sight - so nobody to spy Beag as went secretly exploring.
First stop was a signpost. There was still nobody about, so Beag climbed right to the top to see if he could see any signs of life further afield. Scrambling up, blown all ways by the blustery winds, he almost lost his balance more than once! He finally made it to the top and scrutinised the panoramic views for signs of life. Unbelievably, on such a glorious day, there still wasn't a soul in site, not even the hare that's usually bouncing around the adjacent field! But then he spotted a fabulous, huge tree, leaf-less and begging to be climbed!
 
Beag Mcgonk up the treeBack on the bikes, we cycled a little further along the lane until Beag stopped by a prickly looking clump of winter-bare hedging. Off the bike, stumbling through the grass he went, scaling the gnarled, twisting branches with a definite mission in mind. Once he'd reached a particular spot in his chosen 'tree', Beag stopped, looked all around and then peered anxiously downwards. Following his gaze, I spotted the long, slender, pointed looking branch he was eyeing.
Just at that exact minute, I heard a yell and watched as Beag leapt clean off his resting place and then hooked the branch below in one death-defying action. Off he went, swinging along, shouting with glee as he flew through the air, almost as though on a magic zip-wire, sliding his way in a flash to the base of the branch. What a naughty little McGonk he is! If this is the kind of exploits the micro-McGonks are going to get up to then I really don't know how the red king Rory or any of the others are going to cope!
Still, Beag seemed as proud as Punch with his flying trapeze act and was quite happy to settle back onto the bike and come home afterwards. Phew! First mini-adventure over without mishap and we all got some fresh air and exercise into the bargain.
 
Back home, there was a lovely bowl of hot, steaming lentil soup waiting and a room full of McGonks wanting to see the photos of the day's mini-adventure. Sending the littlest member of the clan out as a scout seemed like a good idea at the time, but he didn't quite grasp the concept of surveying the lie of the land. Perhaps next time he'll concentrate more on his mission than playing at swinging from trees.