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.