The Lair of the Emerald Serpent

So the witching hour fast approaches. It will soon be time for a certain serpent to slink from Cyberia into the abandoned mansions of the mind in search of spooky words. Time to creep about in dark and dusty basements and to leave no door unopened in the search for inspiration.
Decided that a good start would be a slow meander past one of the local abodes with the suitable aura of creepiness. This old house is conveniently located just across from a cafe. There I have often sat while the old mind amused itself with speculation concerning the comings and goings of the occupants of the Big House. The appearance of a very large “For Sale” sign was the perfect opportunity to indulge in a bit of nosiness and the cafe owner was only too willing to oblige with all sorts of juicy gossip. One did not need to take his word for it, simple observation was sufficient to prove that the place is presently occupied by a large group of Fly In Fly Out workers - most likely from the mines up north. But the strange story of the man who hanged himself in one of the upstairs rooms was a rather different matter. Serpent thoughts turned to the image in the Dark Grimoire tarot deck and the allure of this mysterious mansion grew ever more powerful.
The house occupies two very large blocks of land in a very central but quiet location just over ten minutes drive to the city centre. In spite of that fact it never did sell. Maybe the price was far too high or there’s some heritage preservation order on the house meaning that it cannot be knocked down and turned into a dozen flats. Izzie prefers to think that folks can just feel the badlands vibe from the place and that scares even the greedy goblins and housing developers away.

Today’s walk down the back alley way revealed more strangeness behind the rotting picket fence. Did not get the proper peek I was hoping for due to the presence of at least 5 males wearing high vis vests slouching around the veranda with beers in hand. A new addition to the scenery was a blow up bouncy castle. Seems most incongruous for a house without children. Or maybe it’s some sort of sinister lure.
It was fun to sit and watch the comings and going over at the house and up and down the street where hordes of squealing beasties carrying plastic pumpkin pails went searching for booty and terrorizing the neighbourhood.
On the bus journey back to the Lair I noticed quite a few kids in costumes out and about on the streets and a surprising number of houses with plastic pumpkins and ghosts in the gardens. One had no such decorations but a stunning Angel’s trumpet in full flower looking seriously sinister. The one in the Lair is still alive and sprouting new leaves but no sign yet of those spooky moon struck pendulous blooms.

Other strange tales must wait for another day. Old Mick the Devil himself was in town on Wednesday and one of his minions made an offer that Izzie refused. Glittering golden tickets may sometimes have strings attached. Strange things happen at the crossroads at midnight.

Izzie just loves traditional Christmas Carols and these are especially adorable





Oh Come All Ye Old Ones








Awake Ye Scary Great Old Ones

Tidings of madness and woe indeed ;)





Death To the World

This so reminds the serpent of the Anthem of Panem. Adorably creepy and gorgeous and what wonderful lyrics




And what perfect way to end the solstice than curled up with a good book?

New Year’s Eve was as hot as hell and the mercury had even passed the dreaded 40. But it was a dry heat and it was reasonably comfortable sitting outside in the shade. The sky was a nice clear blue with a handful of wispy clouds. So at least it would cool down quickly around sunset. How silly of Izzie to think so

By 4pm had landed at Napoleon Street en route to the beach for the last sunset of the year. It was still hot but had become all cloudy. The air was heavy like just before a storm and it seemed most likely that there would be no sunset or rather not one visible to mere mortals
It was much too muggy to sit outside the one cafe that had not closed. So sat inside and sipped tea and ridiculous quantities of water.

While going to the table where all the newspapers were came across a little blue card with a picture of a crystal clear blue sandy beach and the intriguing title “Summer at Dharmapala Buddhist Centre”

On the back was a list of courses and classes. Nearly had fits of hysterical giggling when reading the title of the first one

Cool Down

We all get irritated and annoyed but there are simple methods we can apply that will mean that no matter what difficulties we face we remain calm

( Angry ants and Monkey minds )

Izzie’s been in exile from Cyberia for the last three days. Just too many interesting things going on in the mundane muggle world

Thursday was on the coffee trail. Nothing particularly significant but getting off the bus several stops early near Seventh Avenue and noticing several bunches of clover like weeds was a good omen. It meant being in the present and being able to enjoy and be inspired by all the little things
Friday was a big day out. First was a visit to Toodyay with an old friend. Toodyay is a country town about an hour away on the train from the big smoke. It sort of resembles Bridgetown but is not quite as lush and green. Winter is the peak of tourism season there as it gets terribly hot in summer.

On our previous visit in March 2010 the gorgeous cafe upstairs on the balcony was closed. This time we were in luck. Or so it seemed. Turns out the cafe on the balcony is still there but it is under new management. These people are not the brightest lights on the Christmas tree and a few sandwiches short of a picnic. But putting on the impartial Martian hat, it was amusing watching the antics of the Louisiana Swamp Monster in her boiler suit dishing up her New Orleans Style cuisine.

There were more swamp monsters rampaging around on the train journey home. Unlike the trip down where the train was nearly empty, on the way back it was packed and was not able to sit with our witchy friend. So took the opportunity to get out that little black and gold book and catch up on the body count and the rest of the drama at the Cornucopia.

But there were more spooky and scary adventures in store for this serpent. ecosopher one of our friends from Nanoland invited the Izzie to a German film festival to see a movie with the intriguing title of “Hell”

The pitch is a story set some time in the future when everything is hotter and drier, most of mainland Europe is some sort of post apocalyptic wasteland. And maybe there’s zombies
Izzie just loves a dire doomy gloomy Dystopia (even one with never ending sunshine) and this sounds like just our cup of hemlock.

Here is the official 'pitch'

Literally translated as ‘bright’, the film is set in a future world where food is scarce, it doesn’t rain and the sun is very powerful. Two sisters and a male friend exist in this tough environment where survival is problematic. When they encounter another man, their very existence is challenged until they eventually arrive at a commune that may be able to solve their food issues. This debut feature by Tim Fehlbaum is a challenging, atmospheric film with simmering tensions and a powerful sense of society under threat

It started at a spooky abandoned service station and felt vaguely reminiscent of The Hitcher and other assorted Highway 666 horror stories. This was a place where people would kill for a can of petrol or bottle of water.

( Bright and Shiny Tales )

Izzie had a couple of grand plans to celebrate the second Black Friday of the year. Before tossing the junk mail, noticed that a certain cheap and cheerful chain store had the last Potter movie on sale for $9 and the three books in The Hunger Games series for $12 each. Already ordered the second one from the local library so it would be nice to get the first one for that price. But in the end, after the decadent indulgence in the Scrooge book (which also has lots of reservations in the local libraries) decided to make that the lucky new book of the day and not to waste a gorgeous sunny Friday 13th going off the beaten track to go to some nasty monstrous carbuncle of a shopping centre. Now that it is the school holidays, such places would be infested with squealing rampaging beasties.

Friday 13th included the usual things like coffee crawls, a visit to The Juicy Beetroot and sunset at the beach. But there was going to be something a little bit different and decadent this time

( A Not So Hermit Serpent )

Good Friday is a strange day. It is sort of like Halloween for Christians. For that reason the Izzie just loves it. Not only is just about every shop closed on this day but it is the one day that resolutely does not lend itself to commercialization and consumerism. While Easter itself is all about chocolate, eggs and fluffy bunnies, spring and new life (who cares if it is actually autumn in this bit of Oz?) Good Friday is all about gloom and doom and that big bad D word.


Strangely, in spite of all the shops being closed, the city still seemed to be teeming with humans. Tourists we guess and most of them gravitated towards McDonalds and other assorted junk food venues.

Even the arcades are closed on this day. There is some arcane law concerned with private property and customary usage. If a privately owned property is accessible to the public every day there is a chance that such access can be enforced due to custom. So the owners of all these privately owned walkways, arcades and pavilions use this one day of the year to lock the gates and assert their ownership.

Izzie’s business in the city was twofold. The first was a visit to the Wesley Church’s ‘Stations of the Cross’ art exhibition and the second was the usual Good Friday trek around the eastern end of the town with the graveyard and assorted old spooky buildings
Took a peek in Hungry Jack’s before visiting the church. Lazy Izzie should have had her nibblies at the Lair instead of eating out especially on this day when just about anything decent is closed
The vegie burgers are no longer $3 something like they used to be but $4.95. Not much bang for the buck. Would have been much better off getting the intriguingly titled and likely very fattening ‘angry onions’

Had already taken a sneak peek in the church the previous day. It was built in 1870 and is beautiful without being excessively ostentatious.
One very clever artist had turned the crown of thorns into a bird’s nest. For the second station “Jesus takes up the cross” she had made two sculptures.



One featured an androgynous creature with a crown of thorns on his head. There were two eggs sitting in this crown. One was whole and the other broken and seemingly hatched. The second which was infinitely sad and beautiful was a bust. The same creature - this time a bit thinner still had the crown of thorns on his head but it was empty and in his hands he was holding a very fragile and definitely dead little bird. It was like he was grieving over the poor creature. The expression on his face was a mixture of grief, sweetness and sadness. It was such a spooky and haunting image. The face could best be described as looking somewhat similar to Gollum’s good twin - if he ever had one.

Last year’s image for the same station was not so elegant and beautiful but still most memorable. It was a dump truck filled with tons of junk.
Last year Radio National also had more interesting offerings including a story about Bob Dylan’s song “The lonesome death of Hattie Carroll” It seemed sort of appropriate for the day. Also strange was that last year was much hotter and muggier in spite of being three weeks later. Today’s weather was just glorious. Sunny, crisp and crunchy and most magical indeed

After the church it was time to slink off to the eastern end of town. Sat in a very pretty park reading Stephen King’s “Carrie” Had also been reading this while sitting outside the church. Turns out that Carrie’s mother is a bit of a born again Christian and has a ghastly statue of Crucified Jesus in all its gory detail which scares the hell out of her poor daughter who has nightmares of him chasing her with hammer and nails and begging her to take up his cross.
Stayed with Carrie in the park until it was time for the Prom Night. At that stage it was time to move on to the old graveyard via Wickham Street. More and more of the gorgeous old houses are vanishing to be replaced by yuppie apartments.
Being a bit of a bag lady, had also brought along the latest offering from the local library “Desperation”

Creepy but not quite as instantly addictive as “Carrie”. Sat at a park bench near the graveyard reading the second book and watching the sunset. Decided not to bother with the rising full moon this time. It is just too tricky to catch coming up.

Could not help but think of the first Good Friday that this tradition of visiting the graveyard started. Back in 1999 the eastern end of town was a wasteland. The graveyard was in a state of ruin and had been a beloved lurking ground of assorted junkies and well and truly part of the bad lands. It had only just been fenced off. The rest of the area consisted of little more than a police station, driving license department and the brutalist Main Roads head quarters.

Overlooking the river were some gorgeous old houses and some shaded streets with Moreton Bay Fig trees. The rest of the area was pretty much empty with most of it divided into lots to be sold as part of the gentrification process
Was appropriately reading Stephen King’s “The Dead Zone”. Near 6pm was sitting near the graveyard watching the sunset and reading the bit where the main character finally comes out of his very long coma. Earlier had been sitting at a park bench overlooking the river and then assorted empty places reading about how the time was passing while John Smith was in his coma. Things took a turn in the middle of winter amidst some particularly heavy snows

The really spooky thing was the image that Izzie had of this whole area being covered in a thick blanket of snow. It was so vivid that it seemed real. Even now we can still remember the scenes. But this was the south west of Oz in early April. Even in the depths of winter, snow is unheard of in this neck of the woods so it had to be due to an overactive imagination

But it was kind of scary to be so drawn into a story that the outside reality seemed to reflect it. This was the middle of the story but in memory of that day, had taken to starting a new one every year on Good Friday and preferably something spooky. Last year it wasn’t but Dan Brown’s “Da Vinci Code” did seem appropriate for the day that was in it.

Most of the eastern part of town except the graveyard is now Yuppieville on steroids. But the Izzie is not fooled. The old magic and sense of sacredness is still there and is one of the main reasons for constantly returning to this special place around Easter and Halloween.
Slinked off after the sunset and took a few pictures of the full moon over the graveyard. Was surprised at how small the moon appeared in the pictures and how large it seemed in reality. Maybe cameras don’t spot optical illusions.

Got the bus back to the Lair just before 7pm and paid a quick visit to the shops to get some kitty litter for the garden. This time last year we did not have the Supa IGA store open even on Good Friday until the ungodly hour of 11pm

Then it was time to slink about in the Lair by the light of the full moon and ceremoniously open the bottle of “Snake Charmer’ Shiraz especially bought for the occasion earlier this week. Was still wearing the special emerald green “Sabbat Hat’ courtesy of a certain Cat as well as the silver serpent ring and necklace.

A most magical day it has been indeed. Much more so than the overrated happy clappy Easter Sunday. Will save the adventure of Carrie at the Prom for that day. Suspecting that this will not be a happy ending at all. (Is it possible to have spoilers for a story that is nearly 40 years old?)

Just returned from a wonderful weird few days down south in the serpent's favorite sacred site - well sort of. Decided to deviate slightly by staying in a different place.

One of the prettiest places to sit in the little town is on an old park bench in an alcove near a church gate overlooking the hills, a disused railway line and a gorgeous old building with an iron roof and green painted veranda.
It is a hotel as well as a restaurant and the view over from the church is towards the kitchen and upstairs balcony.
Would sit there after sunset admiring the view and wondering what wicked sorts of dishes were being brewed in that mysterious kitchen and what sort of beastly creatures would be lurking on that balcony
This was the perfect spot for reading spooking Lovecraft stories and that is exactly what Izzie had been doing the last two years down there.

Figured that it was finally time to find out about the lurkers in the dark. Did inquire last year about the cost of rooms there. The standard rooms were $100 per night and the deluxe rooms $120 for singles and an extra $20 per extra person. But the big minus was no breakfast
Figured that $100 was quite reasonable until noticing the maps and realizing that those rooms were the awful motel things out the back also visible from the church and looking like something out of some 1950s horror movie.
Since the whole point was to be upstairs in the old house near the balcony this was not going to do at all. So decadent deluxe it would have to be.

Finally got round to visiting the hotel's website on the first day of May. Izzie is such a pathetic procrastinating python. Just a peek was sufficient to confirm that visiting once a year is just not enough.
So found the booking page and was intrigued to see that there was another category of rooms listed that were not even mentioned in the brochures - just listed as basic rooms with no pictures of them or information of any sort.
The price was ever ever so tempting at a mere $60 which is cheaper than any of the rooms in the usual location. But since the standard rooms were large but nasty looking prefab motel jobs, these cheapies must surely be a couple of shoe boxes near the wheelie bins.
And wasn't the whole point of staying in this particular place to be in the gorgeous old building itself preferably upstairs? So played safe and stuck to the decadent deluxe option at twice the price.

After a very inspired train trip down on Tuesday and even the second leg on the coach was quite enjoyable, the Izzie was constantly pestered by nanowrimo muses whispering oodles of ideas into the green serpent skull.
Arrived at the hotel only to find that they had stuffed up the reservation. Was a bit peeved having paid in advance by credit card. Turns out another customer with the same name had cancelled and they had gotten the wrong one. It's not like it's Izzie Smith or Jones we are talking about here. How many Dursleys can there possibly be and another one decides to travel to the same place at the same time and then chickens out? Probably realized that Bridgetown is the most unDursleyish place imaginable and then went for some place more suitable like Manjimup just 30 minutes down the road
They did find the Izzie reservation with the request for a room upstairs in the old house and rang the other Dursley in Perth to confirm that he had indeed cancelled.

Once this was all sorted out, asked if it was possible to peek at the cheapie rooms for future reference before going to the one assigned for the next two days
Was also wondering why they were not listed in the brochures. No problems. Those are apparently what they call the 'hot boxes' - rooms of last resort as they don't have proper heating or airconditioning, they have no ensuites and are quite small.
Turns out that these two rooms are at the top of the stairs in the old building with windows overlooking the balcony. Izzie would be inclined to call them cute and cozy rather than tiny and they were still big enough for a double bed with space to spare
The serpent's room was right next door. It was much much bigger with a grand four poster bed with burgundy and gold bed linen and a large bathroom adjoining.

It was gorgeous but not twice as nice. But did not regret playing safe as it was quite nice to have a private bathroom. That is the one big big problem with the usual lurking ground which is also in an old house. Four of the rooms - two doubles and two singles share the same common bathroom. No big deal during the week but when all the rooms are full you got to resort to getting up very early to beat the mad rush.
This hotel - since all the rooms upstairs have ensuites except the two cheapies and there are two bathrooms at the end of the corridor - there's no bathroom or loo blues to worry about at all

So spent lots of time in the evening sitting on the balcony and also was out there drinking cups of coffee in the morning. The room had a kettle, milk, coffee and teabags so just needed to get some nibblies from the local stores for a cheapskate breakfast

After sorting out our bag lady stuff and snooping in the bathroom, the first mission in this decadent and gorgeous old room was to snoop through all the bedside tables and the writing desk in search of a certain something. Searched high and low and was kind of amused that it was not to be found at all. But maybe it hides its presence from unbelievers. Signs and wonders
Wondered if it would be a good idea to go down to reception to demand a copy of the Gideon Bible.

Turned out the writing desk with its strange design of two raised surfaces and a sunken one in the middle was just the perfect size for laying out tarot cards for plotting and planning
Had 12 on one side and 12 on the other and squiggled ideas and inspirations in the notebook which was sitting in the middle

There was one more ritual to be observed before leaving on Thursday morning.
Back around July 2009 stumbled across The One Deck - a set of tarot cards that was love at first sight. Called the Dark Grimoire - it was based on H P Lovecraft stories. But the atmosphere and the look of the places depicted in this sepia toned deck of doom was uncannily like this very town - especially the church across the road and the many old buildings made of wood with spooky turrets and towers and lots of balconies.
So to sit on this very balcony overlooking the town while peeking through the deck as if looking through a photo album was a most suitable way to spend some time and very inspiring it was too.
Remembered back to other times sitting near that church and starting a book with the very promising title of "Shadowmancer" which turned out to be a monstrous abomination and sample of the definitely deviant art form called "Christian Fiction"
Lucky that a certain serpent seen the error of her ways and discovered the real thing instead of wasting time with wannabees. But maybe it is worth another peek if only to learn 'what not to do' when wanting to write spooky stories of the supernatural.


Checked out on Thursday morning after reluctantly saying goodbye to that fascinating and intriguing balcony. Once again took a parting glance at the map in the reception office. Realized that nearly all the deluxe rooms were in the very pretty but new nearby brick building and without that specific request would have ended up in one of them. It seems that everyone these days wants the bright shiny and those that appreciate the magnificence of the Old Ones and the Old Ways are an endangered species

So most contented to know that it is possible to indulge this decadent addiction to this most spooky and eldritch locations for a mere 60 sickles per night. It's getting the time off from work that is the main obstacle
Still sticking to the usual place for the annual garden festival as we really missed the songs of frogs late at night and the gorgeous breakfasts and especially the black starry skies.
Even a handful of street lights are sufficient to scare away the stars at night so the balcony proved unsuitable for stargazing in spite of seeming perfect for such purposes in the cold light of day

So now waking from this wonderful dream world and back to mundane muggle reality, it's time to muse and ponder on the strange faces and places down there - seen and unseen and twist them into threads of some long and strange tale over the next month or two