"You know I always thought unicorns were fabulous creatures too, although I never saw one alive before." "Well now that we have met," said the unicorn, "If you believe in me, I'll believe in you." --lewis carrol
28 august 1915 - 18 june 2008 Boston, Massachusetts
"Einstein said that time is like a river, it flows in bends. If we could only step back around the turns, we could travel in either direction. I'm sure it's possible.
When I die, I'm going right back to the 1830s. I'm not even afraid of dying. I think it must be quite exciting." -- tasha tudor
With tears here at the cottage, we miss tasha already.
-^*^- sending love,
from all of us here ...to there. xx
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.
The party favors are being gathered ...
The tables being set.
Bowls being filled with treats,
and candles being lit.
The names in the teacup ... overflow.
The excitement is mounting.
The hour approaches ...
Little feet scamper about in a flurry ...
Are gingersnaps ready?
Something special for everyone?
And tea to be served?
We are ready?
A wee someone says, yes.
Tonight is the night.
All eyes will watch to see if they spy ...
The magic moment when the name appears.
From the teacup to the paper inside ...
Where nothing was, but then is ...
One tiny glass bottle with a paper inside.
And when that top is uncorked ...
a name will whisper out.
All the tiny bears sit in silence ...
Will it be them?
Only one will hear the name.
Will it be their ear that hears?
The name of a human
... their forever person.
Will they be someones Valentine?
Will yours be the name whispered?
To One Tiny Bear?
..:: a wee 2-3/4 inch five point jointed mohair bear ::..
-- designed & made for you with love ... by me .:: zUzU ::.
Made of vintage mohair & wool, w/matted blown glass eyes, and a frumpy blue silk ribbon he adores ... Measuring less than 3-inches at his tallest, stuffed w/cottonwool, excelsior, and big wishes. The winners name will be placed inside next to his heart ... with the 'inside story' of his beginnings sealed within (--a copy to read included) signed/dated/marked ... & tagged with my Heartstrings studio logo.
It has long been spoken of among the bears ...
That at the very same moment a tiny bear
is matched with a Valentine, all the candles
burning around the world will flicker.
And something will be whispered
into their Valentine's ear only for them to hear.
You have discovered one of the magical pieces of the
. . . :: OneWorld-OneHeart event giveaway :: . . .
Oh dear ::^..^::
The faeries are running so behind with the stitching ...
Tiny little pieces, still undone. The sun setting far too soon.
But inside the studio awaits a surprise ... soon to be complete.
To be unveiled to all of you arriving at the doorstep to see.
Please, while you wait have some tea.
Cookie? Take two. I insist. The tiny star shaped ones were made just for you. They are wishes ... for luck. Sprinkled with real stardust & blessed by the moon.
The smallest of the enchanted ones are working on something special ::for YOU:: and would be so disapointed should you not return to peek ... Perhaps with one more sleep? Or two?
.::I HOPE YOU WILL RETURN TO SEE THE MAGIC::.
This is part of the OneWorld-OneHeart event giveaway ...
Our lovely event coordinator is:
. . :: Ms.Lisa Oceandreamer :: . .
The rules of the game are Ooh so simple. You need only to comment on this post if you would like to take part in the drawing. You need not have a blog to enter this drawing ... but must leave another way for me to contact you. (if you haven't a blog, please leave your email address).
Your name will be placed with the others into a vintage teacup, with one name to be drawn out by a hug of VERY excited baby bears on Thursday, February 14th at 8pm PST... The winners name will be posted that evening before midnight.
I will HaPpiLy mail toot sweet by sparrow post to anywhere you are ... worldwide. Everyone is welcome to play! ... I hope you will.
backward, turn backward, o time in your flight, make me a child again ...
just for tonight. -- elizabeth akers allen ..:: rock me to sleep, mother ::..
ack at the studio the excitement grew along with the rush of last minute details. Inside the candles on the tree were straightened & prepared to be lit. Down was fluffed, floors were swept. The tinest of all faeries had been chosen to sit in the studio rafters & were giddy with joy as they were ushered to their places. They would light the room like hundreds of tiny stars floating above the guests.
The faeries moved around one another as if choreographed, each knowing what they were to do ... Each gliding along as if on ice skates. Were one to be watching it would appear as a waltz, their feet never touching the floor.
The old gold timepiece which had been found in the garden some years ago, sat polished & propped inside a small birds nest atop a shelf ... It could be heard ticking in the background as they worked. And as they worked they sang.
Trees outside were bedecked with strings of popcorn & fresh berries. Thick orange slices and apple rings were hung by red ribbons next to peanutbutter filled pinecones (the little ones had encrusted in birdseed) ... Everyone had helped prepare for today. Not one would be forgotten. Big or small, every creature was invited to the garden on this night.
Hummingbird's were diving at the feeders ... chirping alert to the faeires that fill them if one were not topped to the very brim with a tea of sugary syrup. All birdbaths were checked & freshly heated water was poured, the steam swirling & dancing above as the kettle was tipped ... Huge platters of crudité were brought out & sat in the snow where they could be nibbled on by expected guests that navigated the ship of wishes. All the teacups were gathered and placed at hand. Tins of gingerbiscuits & chocolates were taken from their shelves and readied to be opened. The tea kettle was set into the fire, and the table laid with silver spoons & linens.
From the safety of the paper trunk where it had rested since last December & every year before that, an embroidered cloth of golden silk was carefully brought out across the arms of two elder of the fae. As it was unwrapped across the table the faeries gazed in silent admiration at the beauty before them. This is where the boxes of letters would be placed ...
next to the Queens chair.
And at very last ...
The finest china teacup from inside the glass cupboards was taken down & set at the chair.
They were ready.
At the very moment as the Queen's china cup was touched to the silk they heard the clock chime ...
It was time.
With a subtle stirring, the teddy bears & other toys came alive within the studio. It was the magic hour. The magical season in which each toy would be paired with a child ... had begun.
For it is true. It is the wish & hope of every teddy bear, every doll, every animal ... That their deepest longing will be heard and matched with a child that has wished for the same ... The days of dreaming that they will receive a child of their very own to keep forever ... are marked by a magical hour ... that takes place once a year.
It is the day of Saint Nicholas.
love does not consist in gazing at each other but in looking together ...
in the same direction. --antoine de saint-exupery
.:: ... To be continued ... ::.
.:..::..::.. =^..^= z ..::..::..:.
Above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because
the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. -- r. dahl
s the faeries were finishing the last touches to their work, they all could feel it in the air. It was about to happen.
The time had arrived.
This would be the night.
please click play now:
As twilight approached the winds calmed & snow began to fall lightly to the ground. The garden was softly put to sleep under a blanket of white and the night air became silent. The masqued creatures gathered their tools & filed out of the garden leaving only footprints behind. Once out of sight, they looked back to watch as the studio door cracked open. And the reason why was clear ...
From every nook of the surrounding gardens, the youngest faeries ... the chosen ones appeared. One behind the other through the trees & across the snow, towards the door they came ... Gathering in front at the step, awaiting to be invited inside.
The excitement could be felt in the heavens. For every year, the youngest of the fae waited for the first frost ... to hear if they were to be chosen a Point of Light. One morning they might wake to a crystlized wonderland outside ... And to find a glittering invitation tied at the doorknob. And if it were there ... well, every faeire grows up knowing what this meant. Every faerie child, in every forest, in every garden, wishes on stars that this will be the year they receive their invitation. That this will be the year they are chosen ... to be a Guide.
Through the studio's door they were welcomed. The smell of warm gingercookies seemed to waft through the garden as each waited their turn to enter.
Once inside the studio the small fae giggled & squirmed & wiggled with excitement as the elder faeries dressed them in golden jackets, wrapped scarves of silver about their necks & placed their tiny hands into shimmery mittens. Then at long last, they tucked each child into carefully folded gossamer wings & opened the window sashes.
The tiny faeries in straight lines made their way out along the rooftops & sat along the edges, feet dangling the overhang waiting for the signal. The humans inside the houses heard only a whisper of a breeze at their eaves and thought nothing of it. Thinking only that the weather was again changing to crystal that night as it always did suddenly at this time each year. Finally the last of the little ones had left the studio by window into the dusky sky and for miles you could see rows of glimmering silver & gossamer, like little lights twinkling at the edges of each of the houses. An occasional tiny flicker could be seen at the top of a tree where a senior faerie sat alone. Waiting. Waiting to give the signal on sight.
And the signal came.
The sky turned dark midnight blue & the tops of the trees lit up as if a star had landed there ... And every little faerie for miles raised unfolded wings high & began to glow as if each were made of glass glitter that was caught in moonlight. By the safety of darkness, these strings of gossamer light would guide the visitors to the studio.
As the hour arrived ... They watched for what they knew the elders had given the signal for ...
The ship with dreams & wishes was heading towards them.
And the little ones knew what precious cargo it carried.
With each thought of this their wings would for a moment brighten with an ethereal shimmer ... and all along the houses with the rows of tiny faeries lighting the way, appeared to most [who were merely human] ... just strings of Christmas lights.
And then in the distance
the little guides of light ... saw what they waited for.
.:: ... To be continued ... ::.
.:..::..::.. =^..^= z ..::..::..:.
heartstring: 1 : a nerve once believed to sustain the heart ...
2 : the deepest emotions or affections ::pulled at his heartstrings:: ...
he room was blue.
The sun streaking through the stained glass on the white walls gave a prismatic glow of color to everything it touched & the faeries were moving with the light to stay in it's warmth.
Fall was here and the nights had been given to chilling the studio. By midday the sun would warm the room, but they worried. Would it be enough? Perhaps they should add to the stack of small eiderdowns? With care they saw that everything was checked & to be sure, checked once again. Had they yet prepared enough tins of gingerbiscuits? Was there enough tea? Were the boxes and what they held inside, ready to be matched?
The big day was nearly here and they had far too much left to do before the happening. Would they make it in time? The season was changing fast ... and with it would come the long awaited event. Once a year the most important day of all ... and it was just around the corner.
The faeries had begun to work long into the nights, sometimes forgetting even to stop for tea. The flurry of sewing & fluff inside could only be matched by what was now happening outside of the studio walls. Early ... beginning in the wee hours of night, masked by darkness, small creatures in masquerade were arriving in the gardens from great distances.First stopping for snacks left on the tables for them by the faeries, they quickly devoured slices of apples & bowls of grapes ... Then carefully they washed their fingers in the large bowl of water with little haste and begin work. No time to waste! The studio must have new paint. The gardens must be trimmed. Everything must be ready. Ready for the arrival.
Working in moonlight they could hear the singing of the faeries from inside the studio walls, and it spurred them on. The time was nearing. So much to do. They each knew the importance of what was to happen at the winters eve. It was awaited with great anticipation every year. The time that all looked to the skies to guide them. The time of hope.
... The time that dreams come true.
"a dream is a wish that your heart makes" --j.cricket
.:: ... To be continued ... ::.
.:..::..::.. =^..^= z ..::..::..:.