Ginger Henge, a Druid Hut, and Some Holiday Disorientation Disorder!

photo sent in by Emily Hunziker, used with permission

And here is the second in our two part Hunziker series of henges! Yes, we know it’s Spring Equinox-ish/Easter/Eostre, and we’ll address that in our next post, but for now let us cast our minds back to three months and a week ago . . .

Ms. Hunziker writes: “The gingerbread henge came about this christmas time, when, for purposes of saving time, my family and our friend decided to combine our ginger bread house and winter solstice henge projects into one. We modeled our henge strictly off of stonehenge, making sure that there was even an alter stone and heel stone.

You can see care was taken and Stonehenge was the model. Look at those bluestones, so rarely included in an amateur henge!

Then, “We connected our christmasy gingerbread village with this henge by having the the Druids live in a hut right next door.” That hut is the little roundhouse in the picture on the left. Well done, we must say!

And she finishes with, “Our friends and neighbors who come by appreciate the time and creativity we put into our projects but as we explain to them the ideas behind them (such as dolls made specifically to preform a “virgin sacrifice” that goes along with a henge made out of fish sticks or gingerbread) they smile, nod their heads, and back away slowly making no sudden movements.

Well, that’s just a wise way to behave around hengers. Don’t trigger their chase response!

Score: 7 druids! They even have a place to live. We like this little set-up even if it is oddly horseshoe shaped over all. Having it open toward the viewer gives it a welcoming feel, not quite what the original Stonehenge builders were going for, but charming in its own right.

And at the end of the email she says, “lol. What can we say, we love it. Happy Henging!” We couldn’t have put it better ourselves.

Our thanks to Emily, Lauren, Russ and Eliza Hunziker and Lois Sisco for making this henge! Keep ’em coming!

Fish Finger/Tater Tot Henge

photo from Emily Hunzicker, used with permission

Yes, a foodhenge. We tweet foodhenge links on most Fridays, but haven’t been posting many here on the blog lately. We are about to remedy that, as we have at least three foodhenges lined up to post in the near future. First we’ll go for the greasy fried version, with sarsens of fish fingers (or fish sticks Stateside), and bluestones represented by tater tots (Is there a British term for these? Oven crunchies?). This foodhenge isn’t actually for eating, is it?

Emily Hunziker tells us the story of its origins:

Well, My family (Russ and Elisa Hunziker) and our friend (Lois Sisco) were thinking of some way to celebrate the summer solstice last year, and what better way to do so than with a henge! We figured fish sticks and tater tots were an appropriate size and shape to replicate a henge which we could eat for dinner afterwards. The sticks and tots are bedded in mash potatoes for support and not pictured was the Salisbury ‘plain’ Steaks which were the main course.

Regular readers will have guessed it–it is those Salisbury “Plain” steaks that truly won us over. Bad punz–we likes dem! And knowing that Stonehenge is on Salisbury Plain is a plus–after all, the people mentioned are in L.A.

We realise that an inner circle of four trilithons isn’t exactly right and it is odd to include the blue stones inside the outer circle and not those in the inner horseshoe. We’d have loved it if the mashed potatoes had been dyed green. But let’s have a look at a subtler good point–those Aubrey holes (-ish!) built in to the plate. Nicely chosen!

Emily dutifully passes this on: “My mother, who is quite opposed to eating such ‘cafeteria like’ foods, wanted me to mention the fact that, although they make excellent henge replicating material, tater tots, fish sticks, mash potatoes and steak gave us all heart burn.” Duly noted, Emily’s mom!

But the truly worrying part comes next. “Following dinner, there was a virgin (doll) sacrifice, in which a chocolate heart was cut from her chest and eaten to appease the gods.” Hmmm . . . sounds very Aztec to us, especially if the chocolate heart was still beating!

Yes, we know there is no proof that human sacrifice took place at Stonehenge. But we allow for a certain amount of playful poetic license on that matter, as with the PeepHenge we have linked to before (and which may soon have a post of its own because we love it so much!).

Score for this henge: 5½ druids! But this is not the end of Emily’s contributions. We shall hear from her again. The Hunzikers of Los Angeles seem to have a penchant for playing with their food–and we certainly approve!

So to all, we hope you had a lovely equinox celebration. Enjoy the long awaited Spring, and happy henging!

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Icing Henge–Perhaps the Ultimate Stonehenge Cake!

photo and cake by Vanda Symon, with permission

It doesn’t often happen that a homemade henge turns up in our inbox unsolicited, although we love when it does. You can imagine how delighted we were to receive an email from summery New Zealand with this beautifully crafted cake in it.

Made by mystery author Vanda Symon for the eighth birthday of one of her sons, this cake shows a remarkable degree of realism, from the proportions of the individual stones to the  trilithon horseshoe facing the three intact lintels in a row, to the placement of the fallen stones. Very nicely done!

We asked why make a Stonehenge cake for an eight-year-old’s party, and Ms. Symon replied, “The now Eight-Year-Old has always liked things that are old, mysterious and cool – so he wanted a wonders of the world party and the birthday party cake was going to be a pyramid or Stonehenge. We’d discussed a big gingerbread pyramid, but that wasn’t “cakey” enough, so he thought Stonehenge would be great because it’s essentially round, and hey, a cake is often round. Practical boy. I’m grateful he didn’t ask for the Colosseum!

And so are we! Score for this cake, 8 druids, one for each of the birthday boy’s years, and our highest ever for a cake!

Ms. Symon goes on to say, “The cake was a big hit with the birthday guests, and the whole thing disappeared at the party, so Hubby didn’t even get a piece! There was also one of those surreal moments where all of the little guests were happily nibbling away on icing henges, ten kids eating things that looked like big rocks. Naturally they were beautifully sugared up in time for their parents to come and collect them.

And on her blog she adds, “Damn chuffed with it, actually.  Amazing what you can do with icing.

True, though it wouldn’t hold up for thousands of years in the British weather. Sigh–now we’re all hungry!

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A Little Stonehenge, a Cucumber, and Eleven

photos by Somara aka snarkygurl, with permission

[Strictly speaking this is not a Stonehenge replica, but a replica of a Stonehenge replica. The rare clonehenge clone!]

What a movie! What a cake! The movie This Is Spinäl Tap made the Stonehenge replica a household idea. We’ve often wondered what percentage of the 250 and counting posts we’ve put up would be here if it weren’t for Spinal Tap. Well, there is no doubt about today’s entry!

The baker/artist and photographer writes: “A friend of ours wanted to surprise her husband with a Spinal Tap cake for his birthday. She didn’t care what it looked like, so I had free reign to do what I wanted. I like it, other than the part where I accidentally made the strap too long, and where I lost the wrestling match with the white frosting.

Well, we think she did an excellent job. Even got that cucumber-wrapped-in-tinfoil in there although much reduced in size!

And, speaking of reduced in size, our focus is, of course, the little Stonehenge replica, a trilithon, actually. We like the way the colouring on it is marbled to make it look like stone. It is very nicely done. Plus, it looks delicious. We hope it was.

Please note that the dials on the amp do say 11. That’s one higher! By the way, you can see our other posts concerning Spinal Tap here and here.

Score: 5 druids. It’s not much smaller than the one in the movie, after all. And we’re guessing Somara had a lot less money to work with. It’s not easy to get this kind of likeness in an edible replica. Nicely done!

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A Cakehenge for Morris Dancers

photos by Cricket Holman, used with the permission of Greenwood Morris

Out upon the green plain, wild horses galloped and played. If they noticed the huge lichen-encrusted stones that huddled in an ageless circle there, it was only to rub their shoulders or haunches now and then or to play hide-and-seek with those small colts still unable to run far. They took no interest, either, in the line of posts or strange piles of sweet white goo distributed about the area.

Hmm . . . it’s hard to make that work! We’re not sure why the horses, why the odd asymmetrical candle line or what the (possibly marshmallow) lumps are that are scattered about this cake. And then there’s that thing in the upper left hand corner. Many mysteries.

We do know this cake was made for a birthday party in November, 2008, a party attended by members of Greenwood Morris, a Morris Dance team out of Gainesville, Florida. More photos of the party may be seen here.

Score: a modest 5 druids. Tis is a rather simple henge, appropriate for the occasion. You don’t have to do anything elaborate in order to enjoy a henge at your next family, social or business occasion. Let henging in and watch your quality of life soar!. And absolutely no calories (as long as you don’t eat it).

[Cyndi Moncrief adds in an email: BTW, the marshmallow thingys on the cake are “Blancmanges”, made famous by the Monty Python skit of the same name.]

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Happy Birthday to Clonehenge: Some Favourite Small Henges

cupcakes and photo by tokyopop, with permission

Clonehenge is one year old today. Happy birthday to us! To celebrate we will list a few of our favourite smaller and/or temporary henges, starting with the celebratory cupcakes above, which we posted back in March. Have one, gentle reader!

Another henge we liked was this cell phonehenge, a creation of the great henging enthusiast Simon W. Burrow. We would have to check, but this may be the only small henge that got 8½ druids. Unfortunately it seems that his photos and brilliant captions for this are no longer on Flickr.

Next we have to put a mention in for the smallest henge, a nanohenge made in Singapore by scientists testing a silicon micromachining process. They made a Stonehenge replica–what else?!

That was one of the first ones we posted–November 24, 2008. Seems like eons ago. It was only a few months ago, in August, that we posted the mosaic fruit jelly henge on the occasion of our 200th post. Made by The Cookie Shop, a blogger in Brazil, it has to be the most colourful and attractive to the eye of all the mini-Stonehenges we posted. Yes, it’s just trilithons, but it’s candy for the eye.

Foodhenges have been among our favourites all along. Certainly baconhenge has been popular with readers. Carol Squires, its creator, and Carin Huber, who first blogged it have made a contribution to the visibility of henging, especially home food henging, on the web. It is among the best known of online henges.

And we can’t forget the Lego Doctor Who! What a great, strange, and twisted concept! The good Doctor encounters the Secret of Stonehenge, courtesy of thegreattotemaster, up there in chilly Iceland.

There are many other great and odd henges to choose from– tamponhenge, packing foamhenge, the charming fairy Stonehenge, and the well-sculpted butterhenge. But our number one temporary homemade henge is Clark Perks amazing full-size Stonehenge replica made of wooden frames covered with plastic garbage bags, built in just a few days at Bennington College in Vermont. The page he wrote about it is worth a click and read. In a way it embodies the spirit of Clonehenge!

And sadly we’ve found many excellent Stonehenge replicas that we haven’t been able to bring to you because we didn’t get photo permissions. Some, like Clotheshenge, were so good that we posted links, but for the most part we just let them lurk on the web for you to stumble upon one day and think of us.

For now, we’re thinking that a year is enough to dedicate to something like this. We will still post when something comes up and we certainly plan to judge and post the Clonehenge contest entries, but we plan to take a break from the long hours of searching for new things to post. We think we’ve made our point–people everywhere are making Stonehenge replicas out of everything.

Why? Maybe someday someone will do a graduate thesis on that and use Clonehenge as a resource. We hope so. People just laugh and shrug it off, but we think there’s something going on here that bears examining.

That said, we’ll part with links to a few nice replicas. First one of the best of the virtual 3-D Stonehenges, a small replica at a small school (scroll down), a toothpaste henge with ghost table cloth, and a smallish Australian gardenhenge that is great and somehow very funny at the same time. It’s the pansies that do it!

There are loads more out there. We’ll still post when someone send a good one in or when we hear of one we think bears mentioning, for example if Ross Smith in Australia ever releases photos of the one he was threatening to make. So let’s toast to a year of Stonehenge replicas. How about some Dom Perignon, Clonehenge-style? Cheers!

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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.]

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