Sometimes one’s child can say a sentence and bring a whole bunch of stuff to mind.
This morning he said : Mother. We’ve not seen a rat in the garden for months now. I’m a brilliant rat-trapper.
He’s also the one who kick started my brain many months ago when I was talking about those medieval faces on churches that were NOT gargoyles because they weren’t water-spouts. They were…..urm…..parental brain freeze.
Grotesques, Mother. They are called grotesques.
Offspring come in handy quite often :o)
I’m feeling a Rats and Gargoyles vibe and it’s grotesque.
So many are living in the CULT of fantasy. And less than a handful can escape this prison of their own making.
Two videos. One point.
Never try to make friends with a rat. No matter who pretty or witty or handsome they tell you they are!
Once trapped. Always trapped.