Izzy’s Problem

Note: A first draft of a chapter book, remarks, comments will be chewed on with delight.

Chapter 1

A problem to solve.

Pots and pans were zipping through the air.  The kitchen was a large airport without an airport controller.  With a loud squeal Esmeralda,  Izzy’s cat,  was whisked upwards in the playful current of air. She landed in a  huge saucepan.  Crouching low with her tail tightly curled about her,  Esmeralda’s huge paws covered her eyes.

Izzy didn’t notice her poor cat.  She was sitting eating toast. It was oozing with warm runny butter and strawberry jam.

Those saucepans look grotty Izzy , she thought.  Her friends couldn’t understand why  Izzy preferred saucepans to cauldrons. “Easier to clean” she explained to them. That is they would be easier to clean if she remembered to get cleaner.

Izzy began to write on the back of an envelope.  The note said,  get some more cleaner,  it was scrawled in her untidy hand writing with cartoon spiders dancing about it.   She scowled at it, it reminded her of something she didn’t like doing – shopping.

“Surf and stuff it” Izzy  stamped her foot and every flying object including Esmerelda lost its invisible wings, landing with a huge wallop in an untidy heap on the kitchen floor.

Izzy knew why everything was turning upside down and roundabout on her.  She was fed up.  It was ages since she had any fun with her other witch friends.

“Perhaps they’ve grown out of having fun!”  Izzy whispered.  “What a terrible thought!  I mean, what sort of witch is a witch who doesn’t have any fun or silliness in her life. It’s what we’re supposed to do, create mayhem for humans.  They say people can die from boredom.” Izzy told a dizzy looking Esmerelda  who was stumbling out of the upturned pot.

Izzy had a terrible thought. What if it isn’t only people who could be seriously affected by the lack of fun and newness in their lives?  “Witches couldn’t die from boredom, could they?”  Izzy spoke very carefully and slowly hoping that it would help to get rid of such a stupid thought.

But no, it lingered, repeating itself over and over. It didn’t help her bad mood.  She gave a giant hiccup and flew straight out of the window into the huge beech tree.

It was her favorite place to sit and think.

In fact some of her most earth shattering decisions had been made while sitting quietly in this tree. High above with only the odd wayward bee for company she was free from all the usual noises of life.

Her great decisions may seem simple to you or me but to a neat methodical witch they were very important indeed.

For example:  She once spent a whole afternoon sitting wondering, if it would be better to file all of her recipes  (Jamie and Delia’s) by color code or by the order in which Izzy ate her meals.  That was her problem.

The order in which she ate depended on what she was having.  If it was tomato soup it always came first and last, Izzy loved tomato soup.

High in this tree the solution appeared suddenly. It was simple. A recipe book for witches by a champion cooking witch! The recipes would appear as she made them up.  If she liked the new recipe it would stay but if she didn’t then it would topple off the page.

Today she was so tired she curled up and fell asleep.

When she woke she was not only hungry but full of energy.

“I think a little walk before dinner would do this talented witch a world of good,” she decided as she licked her lips.  “A couple of meringues from the bakers shop could be just the medicine that I need.”

 

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Lovisma gets a letter.

Letter’s were unusual for a witch to receive.  Lovisma knew this letter meant someone was in trouble. She hoped it wasn’t trouble for Lovisma.

She sat on the softest cushion she could find and prepared to hear bad news.

She pointed her wand at the letter and said “Unzip.”

The letter zipped open and a dandelion popped out.  Odd, she thought it isn’t my birthday.”

Then she read the letter. It was from Connie, her cousin who had sent a video diary to Lovisma.  The letter continued on: To hear and see my diary say shredded sheep really fast four times.

Lovisma did as requested and to her surprise four tiny sheep ran about her kitchen in a circle four times. Then they vanished and a fuzzy picture began to grow before Lovisma. She clutched her wand to her and waited to see what would happen.

Pots and pans were zipping through the air.  The kitchen was a large airport without an airport controller.  Esmerelda,  Connie’s cat,  was whisked upwards in the playful current of air. She landed in a  huge saucepan.  Crouching low with her tail tightly curled about her,  Esmerelda’s huge paws covered her eyes.

Connie sat eating toast. It was oozing with warm runny butter and strawberry jam. A blob of jam landed on Connie’s nose.

Connie  stamped her foot and every flying object including Esmerelda lost its invisible wings, landing with a huge wallop in an untidy heap on the kitchen floor.

She knew everything was turning upside down and roundabout on her.  She was fed up.  It was ages since she had any fun with her other witch friends.

“Perhaps they’ve grown out of having fun!” Connie said.“What a terrible thought!  I mean, what sort of witch is a witch who doesn’t have any fun or silliness in her life. It’s what we’re supposed to do, create mayhem for humans.  They say people can die from boredom.”

Esmerelda , Lovisma saw, was stumbling out of the upturned pot.

Connie had a terrible thought.   “Witches couldn’t die from boredom, could they?”

She gave a giant hiccup and flew straight out of the window into the huge beech tree.

It was her favorite place to sit and think.

In fact some of her most earth shattering decisions had been made while sitting quietly in this tree. High above with only the odd wayward bee for company she was free from all the usual noises of life.

Her great decisions may seem simple to you or me but to a neat methodical witch they were very important indeed.

Connie curled up and fell asleep.

When she woke she was not only hungry but full of energy.

“I think a little walk before dinner would do this talented witch a world of good,” she decided as she licked her lips.  “ I might find some fun along the way. Besides a couple of meringues from the bakers shop could be just the medicine that I need.”

Then the picture faded.  “Spoil sport,” Lovisma said and hoped another diary would appear tomorrow.