This is getting wierder by the day.... This Green Man is everywhere!

Okay, so I've learned that in our world it's pretty much like what everyone said. It seems that its some kind of creature, but no one is really sure exactly what kind. People see them in mystical places all over the world, and they have for centuries. They think that they've sort of grown up in a whole bunch of different cultures at the same time, and they don't know why. I wonder: Are they all copies of originals? Maybe of the original?

Well, if that's true, then we've got a whole freakin' colony of them around here. Now that I've got green men on the mind, I notice them everywhere around Waverly Hall. They're over the doors, on the walls, even on the downspouts. When it rains it looks like they're spewing water out of their mouths.

I wish I hadn't noticed them at all. Now no matter where I go, I feel like I'm being stared at. Well, come to think of it, I've always felt that way around here....

Tomorrow I'm going to take everyone's advice and try to talk to the one outside my room. Tomorrow. Or the next day. I'll let everyone know how it goes.

TTYL,
Meg

Okaaaayy...

Right. Sure. Sooooo....

I walk out of my room yesterday morning, having finally worked up the courage to try talking to the Green Man face thingie. Only one problem: The flippin' thing was gone! I asked Mrs. Davidson about it, and she doesn't remember ever seeing a carving there at all.

And today it just got weirder.... When I came out today, the face was back, but this time it was wearing a set of those funny face glasses, a santa hat, and hat a sign around its neck that said "I brake for squabbits."

There was an old food can sitting in the middle of the floor. Beans from Remelarde Farms, some where in France.... A can of French beans got into the middle of the floor under a weird face in a santa hat and funny glasses. I think I'm finally getting used to this.

I know people suggested that I talk to it, but I just couldn't keep a straight face with the nose and stuff. So, Reep and I are in the library now trying to find some more books about this Green Man....

TTYL,
Meg

That did NOT just happen....

Okay...so...I've got this like FACE on the freaking wall across the freaking hall from the freaking door to my freaking room! And I think the freaking thing just LOOKED at me a little while ago! I'd just about swear that it did. Its eyes were following me and it smiled more than usual! I tried to take a picture of the wall to post it, but my phone keeps screwing up. First something was in the way (NOT my finger) and then the pic was blurry, and then my battery just completely died, even though I KNOW it was charged up an hour ago.

I was able to google it and find something that looks pretty close to the face. It's on the left. Does anyone know what in the world it is? The one across from my door is all in wood, carved into the paneling. It's about a foot across and the leaves and vines creeping all over it run across the wall.

I've seen some pretty crazy stuff in the last year, but I don't like the idea of going to sleep with this thing staring at my door. I might just move a chair in front of the door tonight.

Does anybody have any idea what this is? I'll take freaking ideas and plain ones!

The Calm Before the Storm

You know, one of the weirdest things about Waverly Hall is that for all the crazy stuff that happens, there are days where absolutely nothing happens at all. Times like that mean that this place is actually not bad.

Take today for instance. I got up, I brushed my teeth, and did my school work with Mrs. Davidson. Since I’ve been here I’ve learned that one of the good things about being homeschooled is that you can get done faster and get on with life. I was done by about one so then I went outside. It’s beautiful out there on the lawns, especially now that the air is getting cooler here in the mountains. We’re far enough south that the leaves haven’t really changed yet, but we’ve finally lost some of the summer heat. Highs in the seventies, lows in the forties (Mr. Davidson has a weather station and he keeps me apprised on a daily basis).

There’s a waterfall outside my window that flows down out of the mountain and I like to go down there take my shoes off and wade in the creek. It was pretty cold today, so I won’t be able to do it much longer this year. I just walked down the stream bed and snuck under the wall into the garden. There’s a pool in there that’s too deep to walk into (yes, I found out the hard way), but if you go along the edge you can get to a spot at the very back corner of the garden. A tree grows in the middle of it and its obviously really old. Its trunk is all notted and gnarly, and the branches and over the water. Its leaves are so thick and hang so far down that they block the whole corner from the rest of the garden. I think that’s one of my favorite places. Since its in the shade and there’s so much water, it stays cool even in the summer.

I like just sitting in there, in my own little world, listening to the creek flow into the pool. There are so many little nooks and crannies even there that I don’t get tired of looking into each one of them from my perch against the trunk of the tree. I think one of these times I’m going to see a whole bunch of tiny people living in one of them.

Today Reep and me snuck in there and took a nice, long nap. It was just about warm enough, but not too cool. I had all kinds of dreams. Maybe I’ll write them down sometime. Anyway, after a few hours I woke up and went for a walk. I got back just in time for dinner, and afterward I read a good book from the library. This kind of stuff may get boring some time, but it isn’t yet.

And so now its dark and I’m sitting here in my room, typing. Nothing has disappeared. Nothing has tried to eat me. I haven’t heard any weird noises or seen anything unnatural. It was good day.

The bad thing is that you can predict what this place will do. Days like this make me suspicious. What is it setting me up for?

TTYL,
Meg

"Rocky" the Flying Squirrel

Meg dozed off a short time ago, and when she did she set her computer on a table near the bed. Luckily for me, the instant she turned her back, it disappeared, as things are wont to do around here. I found it inside one of the kitchen cabinets. Mrs. Davidson will take it back to her in the morning. In the meantime, I have a chance to continue my research into your world and its cultures.

Continuing along my previous line of inquiry, I have recently decided to examine the “squirrel” aspect of Meg’s “squabbit” label for me. I am not much better impressed by it than I had been by that “Bugs Bunny” thing I talked about in my last communication.

From my diligent searches, I have discovered a flying creature named “Rocky” that is apparently at least somewhat squirrelish in nature. Here is at least one documented sighting. Once again, I am not amused. This…thing…has two huge and completely useless teeth. In fact, it appears not to be a squirrel at all but rather a flying beaver. How he can fly, given that he has no visible means of propulsion is beyond even my own reckoning. If he is that advanced, one would think he would have better sense than to associate himself with a moose of so little brain or—if the video linked above is to be believed—the moon men at all. I cannot imagine any self respecting intelligent creature allowing itself to be drawn from a hat! At least his tail is respectable.

Where I am perhaps truly out of sorts is explaining how this squirrel thing relates to your flag-clad boxer--Balboa, I think his name is. At least the boxer looks rugged enough to have earned the appellation. Humph.

Carry on!

Reep

Where did I put the...grrrrrrrr....

I said I was going to talk some more about Waverly Hall. There’s so much I could mention—funny, scary, and just downright annoying. I think I’ll just do an annoying thing right now, since it already brought itself up in one of my comments the other day.

This place eats things. I suppose that’s what it does, because you can set something down, turn around, and then when you reach for it a second later, whatever it was is gone. Some things never show back up, but most of them do, and always in the weirdest places. Once a week Mr. Davidson goes all over the house looking for things that don’t belong and he brings them back and dumps them in a box in the front hall. He told me he found my hairbrush in one of the gutters on the roof. One day I was reading a book, set it down to take a drink and when I looked back, it wasn’t there. Five minutes later, Mrs. Davidson came in and handed it back to me; it was warm and a bit singed. She found it in the oven, next to some rolls she was baking for dinner.

As far as disappearing things go, the chair the other day was pretty bad. I was typing along and had to push back to grab a tissue and boom! I was on the floor. The chair was gone, right out from under my freaking bum! I said then that I thought the chair would be on the lawn. It wasn’t. I found it in the big fireplace downstairs. Good thing it wasn’t winter.

The scary part of this is that the house also seems to manage to misplace people. I’ve only been misplaced a few times. If you’re not careful, you’ll just be walking along and suddenly you look around and you’re nowhere you should be. Sometimes it’s harmless. Mrs. Davidson said that one day her mother was visiting and she fell asleep on a chair in the main hall. Before anyone knew what had happened, she was gone, and an hour later they found her sitting, fully clothed, in an upstairs bathtub, still asleep. If you end up in the wrong place, though, it can be dangerous. That’s how I found the Tower of Worlds the first time.

Around here, when you go from place to place, you lock your eyes on your destination and take the shortest route. Things only seem to happen when you’re not looking…. Keeps you on your toes, I guess.

TTYL,

Meg

“Bugs” Bunny?

I had the rare privilege of watching some of what I believe your kind calls “Youtube” today over Meg’s shoulder, and when she left to go help the Davidsons with some task, I decided that I might avail myself of the opportunity to do a little research on your world. I wanted to try and understand what Meg meant when she called me a “squabbit.” I now almost prefer that I had not.

Evidently, to her eyes I resemble a mix of two kinds of earth creatures: a “rabbit” and a “squirrel”. Personally, I do not see the connection at all. My kind is something else entirely. Beyond and above. That sort of thing.

According to my research, the best known of these “rabbit” things is something called “Bugs Bunny.” Having observed several of documented sightings of this creature, I suppose that its unique physiology makes it somehow superior to other “rabbits”—it can walk upright, speak the common language, and I have to admit that I am a bit jealous of those thumbs. Beyond that, it makes no sense! Its voice is annoying and it cannot decide whether it is male or female. It lives in a hole in the ground that should flood with every rain, and collapse if anything of sizable weight passed over. How does it fit all of that furniture into that tiny little hole? Perhaps I’m underestimating it, but I doubt it’s clever enough to know how to tesser space. Even I’m not very good at that. And why “Bugs”? I fail to see what insects have to do with any of this nonsense…unless perhaps he’s really part of an insectoid species infiltrating your society in disguise. I don’t suppose that’s impossible.

Bah! My ears are MUCH more impressive.

Carry on!
Reep

Waverly Hall

Well, I guess if I’m going to be blogging about my life here, I had better say something about Waverly Hall itself, and maybe tell you how I got stranded here. This has got to be one of the weirdest houses on the freaking planet. Yeah, well, since so far as I know it’s the only place on this freaking planet where you can get to other freaking planets that would make sense.

Waverly Hall is here in Georgia outside a tiny town called Tiger, which is near a slightly larger town called Clayton, which is near…nothing in particular. Mountains, I suppose. It’s a nice place, but don’t go looking for a mall or cell phone reception. I think that maybe if I stood on top of the tallest tower, held my phone over my head, stood on tip toe, and got struck by lightning, I might get one bar.

This place is gigantic. If you tried to go from one end to the other, you might want to pack a lunch, and I can’t tell that anyone has set foot in most of it for a VERY long time. You can tell how long it's been because the carpet in those parts has been “let go,” according to the Davidsons, and is in places knee-deep. I’ve since learned to stay away from those parts of the house. You can’t always tell when things are coming.

The picture here is of a place I think Mrs. Davidson weedwhacked recently. It's nice and short.

Towers, yes, that's something. How many houses do you know that have towers in them? Not too many I would bet. Waverly Hall has three or four, depending on the day and if the fourth tower is feeling frisky enough to let you find it. (Oh, you can always see it from the outside, but the inside likes to move around to different parts of the house.) The Hall was one of those places that was built to look like a castle, but since I don't think you could keep anything out of this place if you tried, I guess they didn’t think they would have to actually defend it from anyone other than perhaps a horde of angry grandmothers (all the stairways without railings would get them…they might also be eaten by the carpet).

It’s the central tower, the biggest, that really is different. It has the Gallery of Worlds, and has gotten me into a whole lot of trouble. More about that later, though.

TTYL,
Meg

Artmusiaphobia

You know, ever since I came to live at Waverly Hall and found the Tower of Worlds, I’ve never been able to go to a museum and feel comfortable. Not all museums, I suppose. Bones don’t bother me and the dinosaurs are uber wicked awesome. Even the creepy mannequins are alright. I’ve seen plenty freakier things, though I do have to admit that some of the ones that look like they’re staring at you are just plain weird. I can even handle sculptures, if that’s all there is. Sometimes I keep expecting Aslan to come and breathe on things, but that would be worth hanging around to see.

I guess you have to know that every world’s collection of portals looks different for this to make sense. In Relois it was a cave of crystals. In the othertime/space I think C. S. Lewis heard about and put into the Magician’s Nephew, it was a forest of pools. I went to one world where it was an empty city. On earth we have a freaking huge tower with walls covered in landscape pictures, and each one leads to some world, time, or space somewhere. (Its scary that I can say things like that, and they actually make sense to me!)

So, anyway, it’s the art museums that mess me up now! Rows and rows of pictures. I know they aren’t like the ones in the tower, but I still can’t get rid of the feeling like they’re watching me or something. Like every one of them could be a portal to some world somewhere or a window onto some person. I don’t think I want to meet some of them, personally.

And I SURE can’t imagine what kind of nutty world I might find at the other end of some of those screwy abstract paintings. What were those people on when they painted those things anyway?

TTYL,
Meg

Greetings, lower forms of life!

I am what your people apparently call a squabbit. No, squabbits cannot talk. Nor can we hold one of your pencils—you humans and your blasted thumbs. But I have been around this universe long enough to know how to type. You people really should make the keys bigger. I see Megan pounding away on this ancient thing for hours a day some times, and I do not know how she can hit these ridiculous keys. Of course, I would hazard to propose that having longer fingers would help.

Allow me to introduce myself: On this planet I am called Reep. I generally take whatever name the local inhabitants give me when I arrive on-world, and when I came to yours I was lucky enough to land almost in my new worldjumper’s lap and she herself named me. That kept things simple. I have been watching her since then, trying to make sure she does not get into too much trouble. No, she does not know that I am sentient. Yes, she thinks I’m a cute little cuddly pet. I have moved past my furry form. You should too. If you mention it again or even hint to her something different I will be forced to port you into the chewy center of a mournian stink plant.

You humans really should take good care of your thumbs. I find that many peoples take them for granted. We squabbits know how to appreciate such things. After all, I can port to the other side of a parallel time, but I cannot open the door on the other side of this room.

Must be off. She just turned over in bed and that usually occurs just prior to a bathroom venture. I canot risk her seeing me near the…what do people on this world call it…yes, the “computer.”

Carry on!

Reep

Hello, I guess....

Okay, so hello world. Or worlds. Depends on where you are, I suppose, and which way you’re facing. I’m not so sure anymore.

So, I’m Megan O’Riley, and I’m now a completely normal freak of nature. Well, at least I used to be normal and I personally still feel pretty normal, but my life this last while has been anything but. Apparently things tend to happen to you when you stay in a weird house called Waverly Hall owned by your certifiably insane uncle and stumble upon a squabbit, rooms full of growing carpet, and pictures that can suck out your soul. Oh, and did I mention there are also portals to other worlds here? That’s probably worth tossing in.

Could happen to anybody, right? Who am I kidding? This could only happen to me.

And now I’m a worldjumper. I’ve been to several of them now, and seen some really crazy stuff. You know, somehow college is going to seem a little tame, when I finally graduate.

Soooo anyway, I guess that’s about it for now. Reep (the squabbit) is bugging me to get us some dinner. Just don’t touch the pictures.

TTYL,
Meg