Watermelonhenge, or, Where the So-Called Monkey Gets His Smile

watermelonHenge 2

henge and photo by monkey, with permission

The season is over in the northern hemisphere, but here it is–watermelonhenge, or, as monkey (a white stuffed monkey who looks curiously like a dog) calls it, watermelon stonehenge. And as monkey says, “everybody loves a good henge.” Especially when it’s tasty! He offers a tutorial here. And we belatedly discovered he has his own website here.

Of course this is not the only watermelonhenge on teh intarwebs (here’s one),  but it is the nicest. Monkey seems to benefit by being a world traveler and possibly having influential friends. It’s hard to tell about someone who uses a vague etymological term for his name. He’s not our first monkey with a henge, by the way. Some of you may remember this sweet children’s henge with a mother and child monkey pair along with a dog, which is, frankly, what monkey still looks like to us!

But on to the henge–nicely done for a foodhenge. Only two trilithons in the middle and not many fallen uprights, but at least he got the outer circle and didn’t just make it a ring of trilithons. That’s so last century! Anyway, we make allowances for foodhenges, as you know. And that incredible smile on monkey’s face tells us he is very happy with how the whole thing turned out.

Score: 6½ druids. We can see how someone clever with a knife could make quite a nice little watermelonhenge for a party plate. We recommend tapering the uprights so they’re smaller at the top. Why not give it a try? Look how well this fellow did and he just has fingerless stumps for hands! Well done, monkey! Let us know if you do a bananahenge. We already have a dog bone henge.

[And if you want to serve a non-henge watermelon plate for Halloween, we suggest this.]


Gingerbreadhenge: An October Classic

gingerbread 2henge and photo by The Dude, with permission

Cold weather is arriving here in Clonehenge Land. We may have our first frost tonight, and may have to run the furnace for the first time when we get up in the morning. And as the cold nights and chilly mornings roll in, thoughts run to warming comfort foods like gingerbread. Not the cookie kind, mind you, but the nice spicy cake kind, served warm with homemade whipped cream and maybe a cup of cocoa or Irish coffee for those so inclined.

What’s that? We’re wandering off the subject of Stonehenge replicas? Sorry, we were carried away by cozy reminiscing! Gingerbread is not an unheard-of henge material (what is?). Other gingerbreadhenges do exist, but most are the cookie kind. This appears to be a nice straightforward cake type. We think it took a little work.

It’s just the sarsens, rather too many, with a circle instead of a horseshoe of taller trilithons in the center. Still, a nice one as foodhenges go. Something like this could be decorated with some leaves and berries for a holiday centerpiece this Christmas. Keep it in mind and send us a photo!

Score: 6½ druids. Thus do we welcome the colder days!


Asian Cupboard Henge: Stonehenge-Generated Art

syjuco stonehenge

“Pacific Super (Stonehenge),” by Stephanie Syjuco, used with permission

Stonehenge as a basic form for art is a recurring theme on Clonehenge. The Whitney-exhibited artist whose work this is, Stephanie Syjuco (her website is here), was born in the Philippines and lives in San Francisco, and one of her themes is the interplay of eastern and western cultures as it manifests in the marketplace as the average person experiences it. Her statement for this artwork:

Description: downloaded an image of Stonehenge from the internet and used it as a template to go shopping at Pacific Super, a chain of Asian supermarkets in Daly City. I chose products based on how their shape and size would “fit” into my own recreation of Stonehenge. The resulting model is made of mainly inexpensive food products imported from China, Japan, the Philippines, and Thailand. ‘Pacific Super’ addresses issues of global production, consumption and cross-cultural translation, using the familiar image of a world-famous ‘mystical’ European landmark and everyday Asian goods.”

We’re willing to bet that the original builders of Stonehenge never saw this one coming! Little did they know the multitude of messages they would someday help people communicate.  If only we were the direct inheritors of their estate. Think of the royalties!

Looking at this as a structure, we can tell Stephanie was working from an image (*applause* sadly, many people don’t bother). We can see the outer circle and taller inner trilithon horseshoe. There are fallen stones and even a hint at bluestones. This one is very nice for what it is, rising above the average trilithon circle made of cupboard boxes (and oh, yes, there are some!).

Score: 6 druids, maybe 6½ because we like that clean photograph look, plus–we sometimes use that kind of soap!

By the way, a friendly wave and hello to any readers blown our way by search-engine winds while navigating for more about the newly discovered bluestone circle near Stonehenge. We invite you to have a look around the blog. We’ve posted photos or links to well over 200 Stonehenge replicas and there are more to come. We suggest a look at our interview and the list of Large Permanent Replicas for a start!


Butterhenge II: Stonehenge on a Plate

butterhenge 2photo and henge by Dave and Janet Burt, with permission

Finally the sculpted butterhenge we’d hoped for! To use a quip from a comment on the last butterhenge we posted, I can’t believe it’s not Stonehenge! We were interested to learn that Dave and Janet Burt, its creators, were not inspired by our request for a sculpted butterhenge, but were forced to sculpture by a lack of enough sticks, not even aware of the pioneering butterhengers before them.

But in henging as in real life sometimes difficulty breeds excellence. It is not perfect, but unlike many replica makers these two actually took time to look at a picture or model of Stonehenge. Some of those sarsen shapes do look familiar!

One of the hengers writes “I think the plate makes a nice outer ring, and placing it in the ferns gives it a magical kind of look (although not reminiscent of the stark English countryside). Seems to match most of your criteria, although am hoping size doesn’t matter in this instance.” So they have given thought to the ring and ditch and even to the plain itself, if only to note that it is not accurately represented. *nod of approval* In all things, folks, attention is key. And does size matter? We leave that question to greater minds than our own. There is room for every size in the world of Stonehenge replicas.

Score for this bovine-sourced replica: 7 druids. Maybe even 7½. And Dave and Janet say they’re already put their thinking caps on for the next henge project. If this one’s any indicator, we’re sure it will be the cream of the crop!

Mosaic Fruit Jelly Stonehenge: Celebrating Our 200th Post!

stone-hengephoto by Paula of The Cookie Shop, with permission

Doesn’t this look like a party? Today we celebrate our 200th post on Clonehenge and our biggest month ever, stat-wise, with this colourful and yummy-looking Stonehenge all the way from Brazil. If we could we would send out a dessert like this to everyone who has supported us, contributed to the blog, or just read it over the last 9 months. Many thanks to all!

We’re not sure what possessed Paula to rebuild Stonehenge with the leftovers of her candy, but she created a neat little beginner’s henge, a circle of trilithons with a couple of fallen uprights. Nothing in the form that we haven’t seen before, but it just goes to show that the mysterious force that makes people build Stonehenge replicas hasn’t waned since this blog began. We encourage playing with your food!

And, yes, we’re back in South America. This is our first Portuguese-speaking henge. Doesn’t it seem like people are more colourful in Brazil? It must be that yerba maté they drink. Score: 6½ druids. Thank you for helping us celebrate! Many happy returns to us all.

Candy Corn Henge: Our Sweet Tooth Acting Up Again

candy corn hengephoto by erne the ferle, with permission

As if you needed proof that we aren’t the best at what we do, now we’re posting a photo that good bloggers would set aside and post at Halloween. Nine or ten weeks from now, a classic trick-or-treat candy henge would be just the thing to post. To be honest, we did consider waiting. But then we thought, what if we never get to? Things happen–the world could end or else we could die, even before we finish this post! Life is so uncertain!

Ahem. Not only that, but we were running low on things to post and we did have this on hand . . .  All that aside, here’s another candy henge, made mostly of sugar and corn syrup and honey and food colouring. We like the touch of leaving some uprights un-linteled. Even without fallen stones, it gives that desired ruined flavour to the photo, helped out by the red Salisbury plain.

candy_corn_dancing_lg_whtIf you had asked us, we would not have guessed that candy corn would stand up like that. The ones without legs, we mean. We know the others can stand up–and even dance!

Score: 5½ druids. We’re getting soft in our old age. But look–we are nearly finished the post and we’re still alive after all. Sweet!

Candyhenge, or The Little-Known Druid Years of Queen Frostine


photo by Toy Master, with permission

[note: it has come to our attention that our British friends may not have shared the joys of CandyLand as children. It is a board game peopled by fantasy characters like the beautiful Queen Frostine and the evil Lord Licorice. It was often the first game for children because the characters advanced by colored cards matching to colored spaces, with no numbers. And the story inside the lid of the game was some people’s first introduction to the fantasy genre.]

So here’s the plot: Queen Frostine makes an impulse marriage with the Jolly Rancher and together they decide to memorialise their love with a Stonehenge replica. Little do they know that over in the next kingdom a jealous Lord Licorice is breeding a race of sugar-eating bats . . .blah, blah . . . and then everything went horribly wrong! . . . blah, blah . . . happily ever after.

Who says we can’t write a screenplay? The truth is, plans for a Candyland movie do exist, and we doubt they’ll think of the exciting henge angle without our help. When someone sent us a link to this candy replica, we saw our chance to do some hinting. (We wanted Terry Gilliam to direct, but sadly it is not to be.)

Back to the henge. Ann from Heritage Key sent us the link to the picture, which is probably the most recently-made item in the Heritage Key Flickr group. We do like the colours and of course the juxtaposition of food on the ground adds that bit of squeamishness that can substitute for drama in a pinch. Score: 5½ druids. It’s just a ring of trilithons, after all, and it doesn’t quite have the charisma of sausage henge.

We think Hugh Laurie would make a great Lord Licorice! When you read this post, Hollywood movers and shakers, give us a call. We have more henge-movie ideas you’ll love!

Let’s Call It Cakehenge

giraffe cakehenge

photos and hengery by Bill Bevan, with permission

Oh, why don’t people take ancient monuments seriously?! The way we do. Heh. Well, here is a stuffed giraffe examining a Stonehenge replica (of the just-a-few-trilithons variety) that was made of lemon slice, carrot cake, and chocolate brownies, set on a golden plate, which is set on . . . is that a faded beach towel?

Our studied analysis: While he projects a mood of play, the henger here has a serious agenda, suggesting that the toppled stones at Stonehenge were toppled by the curiosity of ancient northern woolly giraffes that lived in the times of the mammoths. This discovery pushes the age of the building of Stonehenge back to the ice ages. The alternative at which he barely hints is that the stones were actually erected by ancient sentient giraffes, a branch of the family which has since gone extinct!

Exciting stuff. Almost too controversial for our humble blog, which is simply a bit of light entertainment. But wait, there’s more.

lionGiant crosses between lions and daisies also appear to figure into the theory! This is way over our heads. Could Stonehenge have been a corral for megafauna? And what about the cake? He gives some cryptic explanation here. Warning: one or two of the close-ups of trilithons seem barely decent!

Score for this henge: 6 druids. Why six, you say? Sometimes things are just so bad that they’re good. And we think he knows it. Quote: “My 14 week old daughter thought Spongehenge was pretty funny, though that might have been wind!

Bill Bevan’s impressive photos of the real Stonehenge can be seen here, and are worth a look. Click on the word Gallery at the top for more amazing photos from around the world.

Scouser Solstice Sconehenge

1245316624-Sconephoto from article in Click Liverpool

We bring you this youthful venture in the series-of-trilithons tradition, our second sconehenge (see the first here).  We can’t determine from the article if the young henger, Mathew Growcoot, baked these scones or bought them, not that it matters a great deal. He’s an artist, not a baker.

It looks very much as if he originally set up a circle of trilithons and then two trilithons fell over or were pushed. Recognition of the fallen stones is good. On the other hand, too bad the scones were anchored with toothpicks. We would have awarded an extra druid if it had been by mortise-and-tenon in the manner of the original.

But, alas, although we appreciate the lad’s intention and enterprise, it is difficult to award a high score for a circle of trilithons. This is what we might expect from an American student who never looked twice at a Stonehenge photo, not from a Liverpudlian who must surely have learned a bit about Stonehenge somewhere along the line!

Still, we must encourage youthful henging. (And we do appreciate how, in this picture, he is subtly using his head to represent the rising of the sun!) Score: 5½ druids. And negative druids for the writer and his “half-baked” and “piece of cake” puns. Come on, man–some of us eat while we read!

Cakehenge, Done Right!


cakehenge and photo by ~Ren-sama, with permission

There are cakehenges and then there are cakehenges. We have seen a few, but this one takes . . . never mind. You know what we mean. In most cases, as with the cupcake henge we posted not long ago, there’s a cake base with the replica on top made of candy or lady fingers or something. But ~Ren-Sama actually baked the cake stones separately and then assembled and iced them. The deviantART page says, “Five days of baking, five hours of construction.This turned out better than my wildest dreams.

It certainly gets the Clonehenge seal of approval! That’s a lot of work to go to, and we see inner trilithons, fallen stones, possibly the right number of lintels . . . We have thought for a while that a clever bread baker could bake separate stones and make a very good replica, and this is the closest we’ve seen to that.

Score: 6½ druids! Bravo, ~Ren-sama! More, please!