Tag Archives: Byron the Quokka

Our Contests Are Running!

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G’day! It’s me, Byron the Quokka, eating a leaf. And the way readers are snoozing over our current contests, you’d think the winner was only going to get a leaf. Crikey!

We have a comment contest going, whoever posts Comment No. 47,000 wins an autographed book. Would you believe we’re still some 1,500 comments short?

Then there’s the Bell Mountain Trivia game, whoever gets the most right answers to our 20 questions will win a bicycle–whoops! I mean an autographed book. So far only one reader has volunteered an answer to the first question: Where does the best wine in Obann come from?

Ms. Crepuscular says “Connecticut” but I’m not counting her answer. I’m in charge of the contest and I won’t accept silly answers.

Well, I told Lee I could run these contests for him, so I hope I don’t wind up looking like some poor man’s wombat. Join in, everybody!


An Important Announcement from Byron the Quokka: Bell Mountain Trivia

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G’day! That picture up there shows Aunt Feezie, Uncle Jeff, and Cousin Ethelred playing Bell Mountain trivia. We quokkas can’t ever get enough of it!

Byron the Quokka here, to introduce The Bell Mountain Trivia Contest, which is like totally all my idea and Lee said I could do it as long as I don’t forget I’m supposed to be running a comment contest–the one you win if you post Comment No. 47,000.

This contest is really simple and anyone can play. Every few days, I’ll ask a Bell Mountain Trivia question. And after 20 questions, whoever got the most right answers wins a prize: an autographed book, most likely. (You know how he is about bicycles.)

Right! Question No. 1:

Where does the best wine in Obann come from?

Of course, it’s a lot easier to answer these questions if you’ve read the books. Aunt Feezie has read The Glass Bridge a dozen times. But as all the quokkas in my neighborhood already know all the answers to all the questions, it wouldn’t be fair for them to be in the contest.

Somewhere out there is a human who knows the Bell Mountain books as well as any quokka! Let’s see who it is.


Wanted: More Young Readers

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Little iguanas grow into big iguanas, and young readers and commenters grow into old ones.

I’m very happy that a handful of teens and young adults have joined our blog community. We rejoice in your energy! It’s good for us to get your take on things. Besides, you’ll be adults before you know it–might as well start practicing now. We who are already here welcome you with open arms.

It takes all ages to make a community. We hope we have at least the seedling of a community here. We need both old and young–and in-between, too–to make it work.

So… if you’re young, or young at heart, and you happen to have bumped into this blog–

Stick around a while! Get to know us. Add your comments. Join the fun.

It is fun, isn’t it? I dunno, maybe I ought to put Byron the Quokka in charge of that…


Byron to Readers: ‘Talk It Up, Mates!’

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G’day! Or whatever time it is in America. And look at this! Another beautiful bicycle for the winner of our current comment contest–only there haven’t been that many comments lately. I keep telling Lee there’d be tons of comments if he’d offer a bike as the prize for posting Comment No. 47,000, but I can’t get him to see reason. He says he wants me to run these contests for him, and then he won’t let me give the winner a bicycle. As we quokkas like to say, Go figure.

Meanwhile, I look like a right dicky-doo-dah with so few comments coming in. Any platypus could do as well. They make fun of you, y’know, those platypuses. As if anybody with a duck’s bill could afford to make fun of anyone!

Well, I’ve got to go and see if I can bag a can of Foster’s for this evening’s family dinner. I’m not old enough for beer yet, but the can makes a really nice centerpiece on our table.


A Quick Word from Byron the Quokka

G’day! That’s my friend Quimby, allowing tourists to play with him; but if you watch carefully, you’ll see me and my cousins, Nestor and Francesca, in the background checking out the bicycle.

Remember, we now have a comment contest going, with 47,000 as the goal. Whoever posts comment No. 47,000 wins a fantastic prize. I think it ought to be a bicycle. I keep telling Lee that his readers would think very highly of him if he mailed one of them a bicycle.

Well, we’ve got 45,150 comments now, and I want to prove that nobody can run a comment contest better than me–you really do need a quokka for this kind of work.


Important Announcement! (from Byron the Quokka)

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G’day, it’s me, Byron the Quokka, with a super-important announcement!

We now have just over 45,000 comments on this blog, and Lee says I can start another comment contest as long as I don’t promise that the winner gets a bicycle.

So OK, new comment contest, with the finish line at 47,000, which means that the next contest will be for No. 50,000, a real milestone–and those dumb  wombats said we’d never make it! But first this contest. Whoever posts Comment No. 47,000 wins the prize.

I don’t know what he’s got against giving away bicycles. [Editor’s Note: Byron, it wasn’t ours to give! How many times do I have to tell you that?] So I guess an autographed copy of his new book, The Temptation–and if you’ve already got it, you can ask for a different book.

I don’t know. A bag of pretzels and a can of Foster’s, that might really get people hopping…

And by the way, hopping is better than walking. Ask any quokka.


Trouble in Scurveyshire (‘Oy, Rodney’)

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I am happy to report that Byron the Quokka has returned. He was not able to squeeze Ms. Crepuscular through the bars of the holding cell, but he did succeed in rescuing the manuscript, along with a note from Violet to her readers. We quote:

“My dear readers, it’s really too silly for words, my being in jail like this for the sake of a few harmless toothpaste rolls which I eat all the time and have never gotten sick! True, Mr. Pitfall ate all two dozen of them–but it wasn’t my fault, I couldn’t stop him. And it’s not like he’s died or anything! The doctors expect him to be back on his feet in just a year or two. My thanks to Byron the Whatchamacallit for saving my manuscript! The detective who read it said he would surely destroy it, as a service to world literature. Yours sincerely, Violet M. Crepuscular.” She will not tell us what the M stands for.

Moving on, we now have a Chapter CCCI of her epic romance, Oy, Rodney, which is somewhat below her usual artistic standard–or anyone else’s, for that matter. In this chapter, all of Scurveyshire, led by the few survivors of the Peasants Benevolent Assn., is in an uproar. They have assembled at Coldsore Hall to yell at Lord Jeremy.

“They’ll skedaddle, ol’ hoss, if you let me shoot a few of ’em,” offers the American adventurer, Willis Twombley. “Back home, them Elamites was always tryin’ to riot their way into my palace.” He thinks he is Sargon of Akkad. “But they always gave up when my archers started usin’ ’em for target practice.”

“I’m dashed if I can see my way to that, old boy,” expostulates (I just work here) Lord Jeremy. “If they’d just stay away from that deuced wading pool in the vicar’s back yard, they wouldn’t get sucked under it in droves.” He finally placates the mob by promising to get rid of Black Rodney, the medieval sorcerer responsible for all these objectionable happenings.

“How you gonna do that, Germy?” wonders Twombley. “Him bein’ a ghost and all, and havin’ just blown half the roof off’n your house, I mean.”

Jeremy smiles slyly. “But we now know what he’s afraid of, don’t we?” he replies. “Antimacassars! We’ll drape antimacassars over all the shire!”

Here the chapter breaks off. She had to stop writing, Byron reports, because the jailer was coming to take her for a walk. He had only time to gather up the manuscript and, as he put it, “vamoose!” The quokkas have been watching a lot of old Westerns lately.


Byron the Quokka to the Rescue!

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Imagine my dismay last night, at precisely 2:17 a.m., when my agents informed me that Violet Crepuscular has been arrested for that business with the toothpaste rolls, and her manuscript of Oy, Rodney been impounded by police. Something had to be done before the cops burned the papers.

Byron the Quokka has been sent to rescue Ms. Crepuscular–he’s sure he can get in and out of the police station, and in and out of the holding cell, without anyone seeing or hearing him–and safely retrieve the manuscript. He promises success. It seems a great-aunt of his once sprang H.G. Wells from jail.

Well, if he’s not back in another two hours, I’ll have to presume they did catch him, after all, and then find someone to rescue him.

Any volunteers?

 


Halfway to 100,000

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What does the lizard at the control thingy have to do with this post? Admittedly nothing–I just thought it was a cool picture.

Anyhow, we’re just two or three days away from 50,000 views in 2019 so far–halfway to the goal of 100,000 views that I hope to achieve for the year.

What will I get for that? Satisfaction, I guess. But who can ever see or know what good he may be doing?

I also plan to turn Byron the Quokka loose to organize another comment contest, with the goal of 47,000 comments. Next stop, 50,000! It would be nice to end the year with 100,000 views for 2019 and 50,000 comments, all-time.

I know, I know–but who can keep from counting the sheaves? (Probably lots of people, but I’m not one of them.)

Well, that’s the state of the blog today, June 2. Now I’ve got to so see if they’re ready to let Violet Crepuscular out of jail…


Don’t Forget, We Take Requests

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G’day! It’s Byron the Quokka, reminding you that we take requests on this blog–prayer requests (most important!), hymn requests, and requests for short excerpts from the Bell Mountain books. We had a nice flurry of those excerpt requests, but then it went away.

My Uncle Sandy, who used to have a judo school until he mislaid his black belt and couldn’t find it, says the reader requests are his favorite things on the blog, much nicer than the stinkin’ nooze. I don’t know what he’d say if the readers requested more news.

Well, I’m now in charge of making sure Lee sees all your requests–it’s something to do until he gives me another comment contest to supervise.


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