=A View Through the Window=

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

clap if you believe in faeries

Browsing through blogs I love yesterday ... Allowing myself to be free for a moment ... I made the most delightful discovery. I found the blog and art of, Debbie Schramer.

Do any of you remember the original Victoria Magazine when it was in it's glory? Debbie and her husband, Mike were featured in 1991. Rather, their enchanted little world of fae furnishings were featured, delighting us all.
I have never forgotten those pages. I cannot even keep count how many friends wrote to me, called and pointed out this article in Victoria.

"Someone else is out there" they would say ..."...another like you. Have you seen...?"
And indeed I had. I had worn the pages thin from handling them. Another was building for the fae ... There was someone else out there that believed. Perhaps my hours spent playing in nature, collecting tiny seeds and shells, making minute teasets and stacking rocks, recording little stories of what only I had seen ... was not so strange if there were others ...
Or perhaps it was. But alas, I know I am not alone in following the faeries now.

I have for a long time known others. They write and tell of tiny trinkets they have found. Of little faery ponds, acorn slippers and beds of moss where only a fae could rest.

And so, many years later I stumble across (shown by the fae?) one of the most delightful artists ever. And best of all ... She and her husband are still making their faerie furnishings. They still have the eyes and hearts of children.
This is rare indeed.

Pop on by Debbie's and say hello.
Bring a tiny shell or scrap of velvet for the host. A button or a bead.
I promise, you will never believe what the faeries will do with your offerings!

=^..^= love, zU

Remember me when you are happy, Keep for me one little spot, In the depth of thine affection Plant a sweet forget-me-not.

.:: SECOND CHANCES ::.

.. :: click for the story :: ..

Dedicated to all the beautiful butterflies that have passed through this realm. They are missed more than could be imagined.

We are all in the gutter,but some of us are looking at the stars.--oscar wilde

Well, this is just getting to be a habit.
Me disapearing ::poof::gone::
Sadness dropping in unannounced.

With a suddenness of a flash flood ...
not a word to anyone because I couldn't.
And I am sorry.

My heart is having troubles wrapping itself around the things of late. In the past year much has happened. I thought my heart would stop beating more than once from sadness. First my beloved four-legged constant companion, then my best human friend passed away & only weeks after him, his corgi died too leaving a hole in my life the size of the moon to become the size of the universe. Three losses of such magnitude in six-weeks took a toll. Other things happening concurrently made me feel helpless to stop The sisters Fate from crushing me.

Then summer held for me happiness (I got my ::wish::), however unmeasurable sadness came along (that precious puppy died in my arms), then the greatest ::EVER:: of ::JOY:: (the fae saw fit to bestow to me another puppers) and I was lifted to cloud nine. I felt hope return. But there was so much more happening in my life. All in all it was a rollercoaster year and a half of emotion and it has pulled at my heart until it is unable to cope with more. I am raw.

Now yet again something unpleasant has occured and I am trying to gain my composure and stay in the glow of starlight ... fighting the urge to simply curl up under the trees and hide in the shadows.

Without going into details, of which you do not wish to hear (trust me) I am having to do something I suppose should be expected, but still it comes as an unpleasant shock to me as I truly wanted to believe the day would never come. Something I do not wish to be the one to do involving an elderly parent. It must be done. And worse yet, I may likely break a promise when doing so. It is tearing me up even though I am aware of no other better choice.

So as I gather the lose ends of my life and tie them together again, I beg of you to understand. The computer has sat quietly, screen dark waiting for my return. Packages have arrived (and I know they are filled to popping with magic) yet they sit on the table unopened. I look towards them but cannot bring myself to take the steps over and unwrap even one. Emails sent to me are in the gazillions, all unanswered less even opened yet. I am finding posting hard. I don't want to be negative. So I stay away not knowing what to say or how to say it. I want to be here but happy things seem far away sometimes. I am finding I need time to heal. I am in the shadows watching the light just beyond.

Soon I will be here with a smile at my fingertips & stories to share. I believe the shadows will be overtaken by light. I promise to reach for it. Oh I will tell you of my beautiful puppers. She can make a spirit soar with the most soulful eyes ever given to a corgi. It is nearly her birthday ... Perhaps a party? I know she will invite you each and every one. I will also tell you of my corgyn boy that now dances every day with faeries. Watch the sidebar for his story. Bring tissues.

For those I was in the midst of sending treasures & notes, they are not forgotten. Even though it has been seemingly forever and you must feel lost of hope ... It is bothering me too that things are not done. I just can't seem to find a way to keep myself in a gear moving forward faster than very s l o w if that. I feel like my feet are in deep mud and every movement is made with such great effort I am unsure if I can continue without rest. I get done so little as of late. I don't know how else to explain. I feel the weight of the world on my shoulders presently.

.:: how many robins can you spy? ::.

Spring is here bursting at the seams and calling to me. For those that have followed my blog along for a while, you know what that means for me. Pure bliss. I immerse myself in my gardens and the moments spent there become perfect moments. The timing could not be better. I need this now.

In my studio, another refuge, I find myself staring up at the glittering silver stars which hang from the high ceiling. Along the ceiling edge I wrote a favorite Oscar Wilde quote that reminds that we are all in the same boat. We all have problems but some of us choose to look at the bright side; To be grateful for what we have & think positively. We can chose to not dwell on the negative and be happy with what we have now. We can choose to see the brightness of the universe.

"...some of us are looking at the stars."

Yep Yep Yep.
I will keep looking up at the stars!
All will be better soon. It will.

missing you.
=^..^= love, zU

in a tiny whisper .:OWOH winner:.

Upon the night the candles flickered,
a name was heard and in a tiny whisper ...

Dawn will you be my mine?

=^..^= and it was so.

almost time

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?

Someone checks.

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 name.
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 ...
Wondering. Quivering.
Will it be them?

They know.
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.

But. Only if they believe.

What will that human hear?

It will happen before the clock strikes midnight.

Light a candle.
and Believe in magic.
=^..^=zU