=A View Through the Window=

is this what faeriedust looks like?

I am sitting here today, inside the studio feeling completely trapped. The wind is gusting outside blowing the trees hither and fro, and were I to open a window to enjoy the spring weather, most of the soil from the garden would be covering every surface of the cottage and studio ::sigh:: and I think half of it already is dancing across the floors. I am pretending as hard as I might, that it is faeriedust.

Although I love a good winter storm with it's whistling through the trees and making the lights flicker...I am not at any time of year a fan of these springtime warm dry winds. They are just plain old yucky.

There are however things I do love about being held captive inside my studio. I can play. I can play with the bears (yes, where have you been? I have bears that live here--umhum I do) and I can play with faerie micelings ... mostly I just peek inside their tiny windows and watch the goings on. It is spring and time for the little ones to begin arriving! Such busy happenings are taking place.

I have often wondered if there is a faerie stork? I have never seen one ... but I imagine there is indeed someone quite special that makes the babies appear! Perhaps a member of the royal faery court (arriving no doubt by pixie-poofed ponycart, and pulled by a corgi princess) singularly appointed to deliver a beautiful pram made from a vintage baby shoe.
I picture this awaited delight is left at the doorstep of the expecting parents. Everyone in the neighborhood keeps a close eye out in wonder. Everyone thinks they can hear the bells on the corgi's harness ... And then one day ::poof::magic:: a gift arrives under a faerie moon.

Remember the post I did about Brambley Hedge: Winter Story? Okay then, no surprise ...

I am a HUGE fan of the darling little mice in Jill Barklem's tales of them. Such a delightful little world she shares. I just know they really live that way ::sigh::

So I'll tell you a secret.
When I had my studio finished, I had built into the baseboards a space to have a tiny world at my feet. Like a doll house in the baseboards, it runs along the walls with hinges that open up. It is only as high as an 8-inch baseboard but runs all along the length of the studio.

I made tiny doors and windows here and there and put pieces of vintage doll house furniture inside for the mice & lights that can turn on and off! There is even a fireplace of teensy bricks ... to curl up next to with a book and keep wee toes warm in winter. At Christmas, should you visit the studio ... you will even find a tiny tree lit in one of the little windows! And a wreath on each tiny door.

Now of course I help the fae keep house, and welcomed them to stay when I discovered the studio was enchanted. But the strangest things keep happening over the years:

There is a now church with a beautiful circular stained glass window (one must assume it is a church...I sometimes am quite certain I hear a choir of small voices singing Amazing Grace on the other side of the window.) But I don't remember having that particular window installed. It is one of several additions that have appeared without my help. I know what you are thinking ... They show up right about the time a certain friend stops by to work on the cottage. But he promises it is not him that places them there.

I choose to believe.

I am trying to decide if I should take you on a tour ... and how to do so with out disturbing the occupants inside ::wink:: Maybe this summer we shall go knock on some of those tiny doors.

... just a thought.
=^..^= love, zU

down the rabbit hole

There is something magical about the neighborhood in which I live. One of the delights is that one never knows what to expect next. Unquestionably I live in a wonderland.

Walking along the avenues one day a year or so ago I spotted something rather unusual. Rather ... something oddly large. Not something you would not expect to see on a walk ... matter-of-fact, I can name a half dozen or so houses with windchimes hanging from their eaves. But that day I felt like Alice. I had to stop and think if I had consumed anything from a small bottle that morning labeled: Drink Me.

In my hood, I have favorite houses. Ones I feel compelled to visit on daily walks. I pass by and sorta nod hello asking nothing in return but to be there and admire them. That's eleven-twenty Spruce. This place is awesome. Nothing left to make this house better, thought I. This house is my favorite on the block to begin with ... Like a cottage taken from a fairytale. The perfect pitch to the roof, the colors it is painted of greens with berry-red trim and white ... the porch has a welcoming bench stacked with pillows that sits under a stained glass masterpiece ... and of course the beautiful evergreen trees that surround it makes it perfect. At least in my eyes. But that day something else made it more than perfect.
Enchanted beyond compare.

Someone in our town makes these huge pipe chimes ... You've probably all seen the small versions. Windchimes made from different size silver pipes, cut at different lengths and of several widths. The sound can be incredible. The larger the richer and deeper the tone ... they resonate and carry each note in the air, sharing like church bells. But this guy in our town makes these chimes bigger than life. The pipes are each the size of tree trunks. The finished chimes can be two-stories tall. And one day when I was walking past my favorite cottage ... There it was. One really enormous, I mean HUGE windchime hanging in the big walnut tree by the road.

I was so taken I thought nothing could possibly make that moment better. I was wrong. At the very moment I was standing there, the wind picked up. And with a firm gust, the chimes began to play. I could have died on the spot and been happy.

You know what's best of all? Whenever there is a breeze, I can hear them at my cottage. Across the roads, over the trees ... I can sit on the porch here ... and listen to them ... playing ... there. The wind carries the notes all the way to visit me.
Now that's enchanted.

. :: listen to the chimes :: .
.::..::.
(UPDATE: file isn't wanting to load/play. Bummed!)

=^..^= love, Alice ::zU::

the dolls tea

The day was announced with the faerie windchimes in the trees ringing out their deep ::dong::dooong::dong::dimmm:: and the dolls awoke in an instant rubbing the sleep from their eyes. Sitting up in bed they each realized the day they await for each spring was here!
Today was extra special.
Today they would be seen by not just human children as they really are, but by anyone that believes in the power of real will on this day, see dolls as children see them.
And in celebration there was a faerie's invitation sent out across the world to join the dolls together with hearts of children everywhere.

Charity could hear the children of the household in the kitchen already and quickly reached for her apron. Yes, there it was sitting where she could find ... where her child had placed it. As she put it on, William threw open the curtains to see the day and gasped.
It was snowing! April snow? This could not be ... No.
"Not today" ::sighed:: William.

Charity came over to the window to see what was the matter. When William said, "snow" she too gasped and immediately opened the window sash. Snow today would change all of the plans! She reached her tiny hand outside to feel the snow, but something wasn't right. The air was warm. There was a slight breeze and something was floating down from the sky onto her hand. Startled by it's touch she pulled her hand inside and felt one of the flakes that had landed there. It was soft and velvety. Not cold at all and did not melt. By this time several of the others in the nursery had gathered at the window and were giggling.

Charity, tilting her head to the side listened carefully and heard William laughing. He leaned over to her and taking her hand, placed more of the snowflakes there. Charity closed her fingers around them and then she too began to laugh. Bringing her fist to her nose, she opened her palm and breathed in deeply and smiled. Appleblossoms! The wind was carrying the petals in the air like snowflakes. She could now feel them under her toes where the wind was tossing them through the open window onto the nursery floor. Today was indeed meant to be magical.

And that is how Tuesday began.

**The characters in this story are from a series called, A Dolls Letters Home. It was a series of short stories (letters) I began to write quite a number of years ago when a doll was left on my doorstep in need of repair. Wanting to thank the person without embarassing her by letting her know I knew who she was, but at the same time let her know how much her thoughfulness meant to me ... The doll began to write her letters telling her of her new life in an enchanted cottage where she was left at the door. A regular following of readers at the gift givers place of work began (where the letters written in script like those of days gone by, seemed to anonymously arrive on her desk) and consequently were watched for with anticipation by growing numbers. Someone once made copies of the letters for their daughter to read and then someone else did too ... eventually arriving in the hands of many children in the community. And the rest as they say is ... Well, lets just say one little dolls life became a faery-tale. I hope to someday publish the letters together bound in a small book.

An introduction of some of the characters:

Charity is blind. A 1937 Mme Alexander Princess Elizabeth doll, her tin eyes having turned cloudy many years ago ... Sweet William is a 1930s Knickerbocker teddybear with curly woolen hair and a heart big enough to cover the earth. His best friend is, Sir Loved-a-Lot a 1950 Steiff bear with golden hair like sunshine and who wears his heart on his sleeve. Faith and Hope live in Charity's pockets and go everywhere with her. The twins belonged to my mother and sleep in a real heartshaped basket in which they arrived in 1925 to a then 5 year old birthday girl that passed along the belief to her daughter--this author, that all dolls become real ... if you believe they can.

And Jennabelle? Did you by chance to meet? Jennabelle is the mistress of a little cottage where tattered toys go to stay while they await for the love of a child to make them whole again. All are welcome. None are turned away. Even a family of mice that sleep on pillows in the window have made the cottage home. And considering that the mistress is a tabby cat ... this itself is enchanting.

I believe in the power of a child's imagination being bigger than us all.

The website for, A Doll's Letters Home is in the process of being built. I hope when it is finished, you will each and every one come to visit. Have a cup of tea with us in a chair by the window and meet all of the occupants of the enchanted cottage. Consider yourself invited.

=^..^= love, zU

SAVED ... something is planned for this space.

from chichi's point of view

Hiya peeples ... just me Cheeeeecheeee! Peeking in on momma to see what's she's doin' in that there inside place. She sits at summthin' called a drafting table. My house is just outside the big window next to it where I can see her. She snuck a picture of me hangin out on my treehouse ramp to shows yooz guys.

I'm always up here watching her she says. Says everytime she looks up, there I am! Hey ... She's always inside she is ::sighhhh:: and not out here with MEeeeee. CheeeeeCheeee! I is out here in my treeeeeees!

::Ahem:: I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND here in my tree! I do! Her name is Cathy ... Human momma person named her that ... I think it's short for summthin', I forget ... Hard to think around here sometimes lately. Just a sec ... Shhhh! Cathy, be quiet! I'm talkin' to the peeples here ... Sorry 'bout that. She's talkin' at me about needing twigs or grass or ... Oh, yeah. That's why momma named her Cathy. That's it! My girls name is CHATTY Cathy! And ... ummm ... she is ... Ya know. Chatty. Talk talk talk. Sheeeesh. Gurrrrrlz.

I love my Cathy, I do. (Dang ... don't tell her I said that, K? She'll get all kissy-face on me and well ... She might let me catch her. I haven't figured out what to do yet ... You know, if I ever actually catched her. I justs likes ta chase her. Dunno why. When I asks human mommy person, she just winks and tells me to keep chasing. That I'll figure it out. Dunno.)

Gotta go peeples. Cathy wants me to find more twigs and leaves for the house she's building. Now whataya suppose we need a nesthouse for in this beautiful weather? Its beaUimous outside under the stars. I tell ya ... Gurlz are soooo weird!

-^..^- who loves ya? Chichi does!
(hi auntie carol ... lookie me auntie margarita!)

doing the dance of joy

Ever have a day when you wake up and just know that today, there is an adventure out there waiting for you? The air is just the right temperature and is breezing in through the open window ... The curtains move in little waves. The flowers are beckoning to you from just beyond the billowing lace. Come outside and play you hear in whispers and shouts. A butterfly flitters past and you could swear you saw her wink.
An invation for you to come out and join the party ...

It's spring! You cannot be inside!


Ready and packed in a split second for spring will not wait. You have your sketchbook in hand and watercolors clutched tight. Grab a bottle of water and you turn towards the door ... And there in your path are two huge brown eyes watching your every move. Was she not asleep in the chair but a moment ago?

You smile at the big brown eyes and say, Yes. But of course! It wouldn't be an adventure if anyone was left behind, your voice is almost singing as you turn the doorknob.

Then you do the ::DaNcE::Of::JoY:: down the road, watching a little dog bounce with glee at what unknowns are ahead, just happy to be right there in that very moment.
And suddenly you realize she is right ... It's the journey.
The journey is the adventure.

I will be the gladdest thing
Under the sun!
I will touch a hundred flowers
And not pick one.

I will look at cliffs and clouds
With quiet eyes,
Watch the wind bow down the grass,
And the grass rise.

And when lights begin to show
Up from the town,
I will mark which must be mine,
And then start down!
--edna st. vincent millay

wishing you a glorious journey of moments.
=^..^= love, zU