Aug 14, 2013

100 Heads in 100 Days #79 - Knotlings

If there is a more infuriating, frustrating and exceptionally unhelpful being than the Knotling in Faerie, I have not heard of them. They are the bane of the flower gardener, the scourge of the fruit grower, the mortal enemy of the pond enthusiast.

Knotlings are very small, stick-like creatures that are perfectly camouflaged in their homes in trees. Dozens of them can live in a single tree, and they can infest a whole garden in days. The unfortunates whose property becomes infested will often go to great lengths to have them eradicated, with variable results.

You see, Knotlings like to do one thing, and one thing alone. They hide among the branches of trees in gardens and wait until all of the fallen leaves have been raked up from the grass or sieved from a pond and then they, in unison, shake the trees they are in to make leaves fall some more. When there are no leaves left to drop, they will start to throw down twigs, then branches, until there is nothing left but a naked tree trunk.

The only known 'cure' for a Knotling infestation is to place bird feeders in all of your trees. Knotlings are petrified of even the smallest bird, so a bird-friendly garden is Knotling-free garden.

100 Heads in 100 Days #79
A Knotling
Me Fact #79
I cannot abide the buskers here in Galway. Some of them are great, most of them are nowhere near that. There seems to be a never-ending supply of late teen and early twenties men who feel the need to strap on a guitar and bellow out songs far louder than is necessary. Do they think they are performing at a concert? And why can't they learn more than three songs? And why does one of those three songs always have to be that blasted 'Wagon Wheel' song?
Then there's the regular buskers, the dreaded dog-boy (a guy who sits under a covered table with a hole cut out of it so that he can stick his head through it. He then wears a stuffed dog toy over his head and howls songs all day). There's the woman with the incredibly nasal voice too, every time she sings 'Under the Boardwalk,' I block my ears. But the king of Galway buskers is, of course, Malarchy. This young fellow likes to wear a suit and hat and swagger around town supposedly 'crooning' to passers by. The problem being, he has an awful voice, no rhythm and makes a mockery of the songs he is supposed to be singing by forgetting lyrics and missing notes.

1 comment:

Jay Penn said...

Reserved for Brian Walker.