Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Just Delicious

Hello ghouls and ghoulies, it's Wednesday again and time for another spooky folk tale! Today for your sampling pleasure we have a story called, "Just Delicious" and after wards, we would recommend a good hearty meal! Bon appetite!

George Flint loved to eat. Each day at noon he closed his camera shop for two hours and went home for a big lunch and his wife Mina cooked for him. George was a bully, and Mina was a timid woman who did everything he asked because she was afraid of him.
On his way home for lunch one day, George stopped at the butcher shop and bought a pound of liver. He loved liver. He would have Mina cook it for dinner that night. Despite all his complaints about her, she was a very good cook.
While George ate his lunch, Mina told him that a rich old woman in town had died. Her body was in the church next door. It was in an open coffin. Anyone who wanted to see her could. As usual, George was not interested in what Mina had to say. "I've got to go back to work," he told her.
After he left, Mina began to cook the liver. She added vegetables and spices and simmered it all afternoon, just the way George liked it. When she thought it was done, she cut off a small piece and tasted it. It was delicious, the best she had ever made. She ate a second piece. Then a third. It was so good, she could not stop eating it.
It was only when the liver was all gone that she thought of George. He would be coming home soon. What would he do when he found that she had eaten all of the liver?
Some men would laugh -- but not George. He would be angry and mean, and she did not want to face that again.
But where could she get another piece of liver that late in the day?
Then she remembered the old woman lying in the church next door waiting to be buried....
George said he never had a better dinner. "Have some liver, Mina," he said. "It's just delicious."
"I'm not hungry," she said. "You finish it."
That night, after George had fallen asleep, Mina sat in bet trying to read. But all she could think about was what she had done. Then she thought she heard a woman's voice.
"Who has my liver?" it asked. "Who has it?"
Was it her imagination? Was she dreaming?
Now the voice was closer. "Who has my liver?" it asked. "Who has it?"
Mina wanted to run. "No, no," she whispered. "I don't have it. I don't have your liver."
Now the voice was right next to her. "Who has my liver?" it asked, "Who has it?"
Mina froze with terror. She pointed to George. "He does," she said. "He has it."
Suddenly the light went out -- and George screamed, and screamed.

Well kiddies, we hope you enjoyed the tale we stirred up for you today and remember to treat the one who cooks for you very very nicely!

Xane and Dane Dravor

Story taken from, "Scary Stories Treasury". Collected from folklore and retold by Alvin Schwartz.
ISBN 0-06-026341-5

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

The Guests

It's Wednesday again and here's our next spooky offering! A folk tale called, "The Guests" that we think you'll enjoy.

A young man and his wife were on a trip to visit his mother. Usually they arrived in time for supper. But they had gotten a late start, and now it was getting dark. So they decided to look for a place to stay overnight and go on in the morning.
Just off the road, they saw a small house in the woods.
"Maybe they rent rooms," the wife said. So they stopped to ask.
An elderly man and woman came to the door. They didn't rent rooms, they said. But they would be glad to have them stay overnight as their guests. They had plenty of room, and they would enjoy the company.
The old woman made coffee and brought out some cake, and the four of them talked for a while. Then the young couple were taken to their room. They again explained that they wanted to pay for this, but the old man said he would not accept any money.
The young couple got up early the next morning before their hosts had awakened. On a table near the front door, they left an envelope with some money in it for the room. Then they went on to the next town.
They stopped in a restaurant and had breakfast. When they told the owner where they had stayed, he was shocked.
"That can't be, " he said. "That house burned to the ground, and the man and the woman who lived there died in the fire."
The young couple could not believe it. So they went back to the house. Only now there was no house. All they found was a burned-out shell.
They stood staring at the ruins trying to understand what had happened. Then the woman screamed. In the rubble was a badly burned table, like the one they had seen by the front door. On the table was the envelope they had left that morning.

We hope you enjoyed this short little tale, be sure the next time you have to travel at night and stop along the way, that the place is a little more lively!

Xane and Dane Dravor

Folk tale taken from, "Scary Stories Treasury", collected from folklore and retold by Alvin Schwartz.
ISBN 0-06-026341-5

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Cold As Clay

In keeping with our promise to post either an original House Morbid story or a spooky story from folklore, today we bring you a spooky folk tale called "Cold As Clay". We hope you enjoy it and perhaps read it by candle light to your friends and family to chill their bones!

A farmer had a daughter for whom he cared more than anything on earth. She fell in love with a farmhand named Jim, but the farmer did not think Jim was good enough for his daughter. To keep them apart, he sent her to live with her uncle on the other side of the county.
Soon after she left, Jim got sick, and he wasted away and died. Everyone said he died of a broken heart. The farmer felt so guilty about Jim's death, he could not tell his daughter what had happened. She continued to think about Jim and the life they might have had together.
One night many weeks later there was a knock on her uncle's door. When the girl opened the door, Jim was standing there.
"Your father asked me to get you," he said. "I came on his best horse."
"Is there anything wrong?" she asked.
"I don't know," he said.
She packed a few things, and they left. She rode behind him, clinging to his waist. Soon he complained of a headache. "It aches something terrible," he told her.
She put her hand on his forehead. "Why, you are as cold as clay," she said. "I hope you are not ill," and she wrapped her handkerchief around his head.
They traveled so swiftly that in a few hours they reached the farm. The girl quickly dismounted and knocked on the door. Her father was startled to see her.
"Didn't you send for me?" she asked.
"No, I didn't," he said.
She turned to Jim, but he was gone and so was the horse. They went to the stable to look for them. The horse was there. It was covered with sweat and trembling with fear. But there was no sign of Jim.
Terrified, her father told her the truth about Jim's death. Then quickly he went to see Jim's parents. They decided to open his grave. The corpse was in its coffin. But around its head they found the girl's handkerchief.

Thanks for stopping by to read this weeks folk tale! Stay tuned in for the next spine chilling story!

Xane and Dane Dravor

Taken from: Scary Stories Treasury. Collected and retold by Alvin Schwartz.
ISBN 0-06-026341-5

Saturday, July 11, 2009

Here's to what's to come...

Here's the what's to come! Raising glasses to clink and drinking deeply.

Soon there will be new pictures up on our shop of wares. Also our other sites for meeting and greeting shall be overhauled. There will be stories for our friends to peruse and we are hoping new strips to be read as well. It is a busy time around the old crypt. Our hands are filthy, full of paint, graveyard dirt and things best left to the imagination. Life, such that it is...well is moving along.

We intend to dig up a story of our own creation or one from Dane's enormous collection to post here weekly. So stay on the look out for that.

I am doing my best to show the world that skeletons and dead things can be just as cute as other handmade goodies and twice as eye catching. Look for links to those offerings weekly as well.

The strips should roll out sometime mid August and will be linked to and posted up on this inter net contraption as soon as they are fit for reading.

The other overhauls will be announced. You know how it is with deconstruction, demolition and all that. Takes a while to get the charges set just right. Hope we don't blow anything off this time. Fingers are really hard to sew back on!

That reminds me. The new pieces for the store will be up as soon as I can get this other picture box to work! There's a lot to be done around here. And, I thought being dead would mean less work...

Here's to the weekend! Another clink of glasses. See you again soon!

Xane Dravor

Thursday, July 9, 2009

Aaron Kelly's Bones

Not too long ago we posted a folk song called the "Hearse Song" and it was a big hit so I thought we'd post another folk tale, this time a funny spook tale about Aaron Kelly and his bones.

Aaron Kelly was dead. They bought him a coffin and had a funeral and buried him.
But that night he got out of his coffin, and he came home. His family was sitting around the fire when he walked in.
He sat down next to his widow, and he said, "What's going on? You all act like somebody died. Who's dead?"
His widow said, "You are."
"I don't feel dead," he said. "I feel fine."
"You don't look fine," his widow said. "You look dead. You'd better get back to the grave where you belong."
"I'm not going back to the grave until I feel dead," he said.
Since Aaron wouldn't go back, his widow couldn't collect his life insurance. Without that, she couldn't pay for the coffin. And the undertaker said he would take it back.
Aaron didn't care. He just sat by the fire rocking in a chair and warming his hands and feet. But his joints were dry and his back was stiff, and every time he moved, he creaked and cracked.
On night the best fiddler in town came to court the widow. Since Aaron was dead, the fiddler wanted to marry her. The two of them sat on one side of the fire, and Aaron sat on the other side, creaking and cracking.
"How long do we have to put up with this dead corpse?" the widow asked.
"Something must be done," the fiddler said.
"This isn't very jolly," Aaron said. "Let's dance!"
The fiddler got out his fiddle and began to play. Aaron stretched himself, shook himself, got up, took a step or two, and began to dance.
With his old bones rattling, and his yellow teeth snapping, and his bald head wagging, and his arms flip-flopping--around and around he went.
With his long legs clicking, and his kneebones knocking, he skipped and pranced around the room. How that dead man danced! But pretty soon a bone worked loose and fell to the floor.
"Look at that!" said the fiddler.
"Play faster!" said the widow.
The fiddler played faster.
Crickety-crack, down and back, the dead man went hopping, and his dry bones kept dropping--this way, that way, the pieces just kept popping.
"Play, man! Play!" cried the widow.
The fiddler fiddled, and dead Aaron danced. Then Aaron fell apart, collapsed into a pile of bones--all except his bald headbone that grinned at the fiddler, cracked it's teeth--and kept dancing.
"Look at that!" groaned the fiddler.
"Play louder!" cried the widow.
"Ho, ho!" said the headbone. "An't we having fun!"
The fiddler couldn't stand it. "Widow," he said. "I'm going home," and he never came back.
The family gathered up Aaron's bones and put them back in the coffin. They mixed them up so he could fit them together. After that, Aaron stayed in his grave. But the widow never did get married again. Aaron had seen to that.

Thanks for stopping by! Hope you enjoyed the tale of "Aaron Kelly's Bones"!

Xane and Dane Dravor

Story taken from: Scary Stories Treasury. Collected and retold by Alvin Schwartz.
ISBN 0-06-026341-5

Saturday, July 4, 2009

Independence Day

Here in America its time for the rockets red glare and bombs burstin' in air again. The sounds of roman candles and bottle rockets filling the air. The barbeques being lit with a beer or your ale of choice in hand. We like that. All the relatives digging themselves up and planting their mostly rotting asses on the lawn furniture. Fireflies flitting from one ghoul or specter to another. A real family get together. Its just good fun!

We hope your relatives and friends manage to haul themselves to your doorstep soon and help fill the air with sounds of wheezing and moaning and the smells of charcoal and ashes. Mooching your hooch and gobbling up all the weenies off your grill. Everyone of them happy to tell you about their mouldering parts and how their caskets are starting to leak. But, if that much togetherness gets on your nerves you can always send everyone home with a nice bonfire and some nifty explosions courtesy of your own munitions cabinet.

Here's hoping you have a bang up weekend from the Dravors! See you when the dust clears and we're back to business as usual here in the good old US of A.

Xane and Dane Dravor