Baggaraggs

2012-02-14T07:57:00.000-05:00

Happy Valentine's day.

2012-02-08T13:29:00.002-05:00

The New Year has already begun to be a bit worn at the edges, but before it becomes entirely frayed and feeling like an old shoe, I wanted to thank some friends of mine. This thanks is by no means what they deserve for all the love and support they have shown me.
First Debra of Monniebean. Her work is a wonderful, fresh breeze. Her Art...real and heartfelt. She sent me one of her Shabby Bags. WOW!

I would also like to thank my friend Dorthe of Den Lille lade. A fabulous doll artist and a very lovely lady. We have exchanged thoughts and pressies and I wanted you to see this charming fairie she sent me for Christmas. I Love her!

So many things to be thankful for. So many gifts born of friendship and sister love.

The Old FarmHouse Gathering White Sale

2012-01-02T17:40:00.000-05:00

Come Shop at the Old Farmhouse Gathering White sale. There are fabulous bargains, and great deals from the talented sisters of the OFG.
Type OFG white sale in the bar at the top of the Etsy page. Have FUN!!!! Here's the link for a sampling of the goodies http://www.etsy.com/search?search_submit=Search&q=ofg+white+sale&order=most_relevant&ship_to=US&view_type=gallery

Happy New Year!!!!

2012-01-01T13:01:00.000-05:00

I am wishing all my Blog Friends a happy and prosperous New year filled with Strength, Joy and courage. may you all be Happy, Safe, Peaceful, Healthy, at Ease and free from Suffering.

Sale at the Baggaraggs!!!!

2011-12-26T13:18:00.000-05:00

After Christmas SALE now in Progress at the Baggaraggs. Type in after25 in the coupon code and recieve a 20% discount. Thanks and hope you had a groovy Christmas. Robin.
PS here is a LINK: Baggaraggs

Christmas oh SO SOFTly

2011-12-16T17:45:00.000-05:00

I don't ever remember a time when I have been so unprepared for Christmas. I think even the Elves are working later than usual at this time of the year.

My Buddy Albert

2011-12-13T10:33:00.000-05:00

Hey everyone. I wanted to share with you a photo of Albert and me taken recently by Fallbrook Studios and a very Talented Young ARTIST, Vincent Czyzewski. It means so much to me to have a great photo of Albert, and Vincent did a fabulous job. He and his wife Tara are Great people, professionals and SO very talented. They are based in Yuma, But if I was getting Married I would FLY them to my WEDDING to Photo the event!

Albert is struggling, we have had some bad days here lately. Still don't know what the problem is.
Anyway...wanted you all to see. wanted to share.
Be well.
Robin

APOLOGIES

2011-11-23T23:40:00.001-05:00

I have been away in my head, struggling to try to keep up and am so sorry to have neglected my Blog. I have folks to thank for sending me beautiful pieces of work and things to share. I promise I will. In the meantime I have been caring for my sick dog...This has been going on for months now and I am near crazy...not sleeping and looking like there is a squirrel loose in my Brain.
So, I will update here in the next few days. Don't give up on me.
Hugs, Robin

The Trim Your Tree with The OLD FARMHOUSE GATHERING GIVEAWAY

2011-10-30T11:46:00.000-04:00

HEY YOU GUYS!!!I WANT TO MAKE YOU AWARE OF A GIVEAWAY SPONSORED BY THE MEMBERS OF THE OLD FARMHOUSE GATHERING.Its another briliant treasury giveaway, actually there are two. all kinds of handmade ornies for your Christamas decorating or to give as gifts. I think because I am a selfish person I would keep them all for myself! HAH! Anyway, I wanted to provide you with the link to the treasuries so you can SIGN up. http://www.etsy.com/treasury/NTYwOTAxN3w5ODkyMTg2ODg/win-half-of-this-treasury-trim-your-tree?index=0

http://www.etsy.com/treasury/NTYwOTAxN3w5ODMwMzIxODU/win-half-this-treasury-trim-your-tree?index=1

HALLOWEEN SALE

2011-10-16T10:43:00.004-04:00

I AM HAVING A hALLOWEEN SALE ON MY ETSY SITE: http://www.etsy.com/shop/Baggaraggs?ref=ss_profile
jUST PUT IN THE CODE Oct31 for a 30% off coupon for Halloween items. Come on over and have a look. And have a spooky Halloween

Bird Therapy

2011-10-02T15:10:00.000-04:00

My Mother use to say that she hated to see the spring come. We lived in the woods and for some reason I found all the Baby birds that had fallen from their nests. It was like I had a baby bird magnet installed right over my heart that drew me to them. I would of course pick them up, and bring them home. Not a single one survived, and I am sure that the diet of crackers and milk may have had something to do with it. I've never really gotten over it. Scarred for life.
This little Bird inside a fabric case is a handy remedy for anyone wishing to overcome these tragic memories.
He handily fits in the black net pocket for storage when you need him to. I think that he is a cheerful reminder that many birds have actually survived the spring without my ministering to them.
This handy dandy fabric case ties in the back over a vintage button. The bird cage on the front has been free sewn with my trusty Thread Pusher. (That's Baggaraggs talk for sewing Machine.) Off hand I do not have the dimensions, if that's important to you, I'd be happy to provide you with the details.
PS. This is not for a child, just a Childlike adult.

New Friend

2011-09-18T16:07:00.001-04:00

I have a new friend I would like you to meet. It never ceases to amaze me the TALENT that some people possess. Please meet Dorthe of Den Lille Lade, a very Talented Doll artist. We met at Etsy, where she bought a bird from me and a doll...or two...
We soon discovered that we like the same kind of things, VINTAGE EVERYTHING!!!!

I love Dorthe's WORK. Fabulous!!!

Dorthe Lives in Denmark. (On an Island that I believe to be in the Baltic Sea.) She makes fairies, and has a shop also called Den Lille Lade. She also makes collages and and I love they way her blog looks...Beautiful.

Don't you love getting to know other folks in this world of ours. So many sweet and special people.
Thank you Dorthe.

my real "job"

2011-08-28T09:51:00.000-04:00

Here I am at my Real job. I work with some fantastic people, who are for the most part patient, caring and kind. I have been a nurse for a long time but as you can see, I am thinking of the Land of Baggaraggs, even at "work."

The Tombs

2011-08-21T12:29:00.000-04:00

And so my thoughts are creeping towards the fall.I begin to long for cooler weather, with the brush of cobwebs on my bare neck at night when I walk Albert. I think of closing my door on the dark, imagining that I am turning the dead-bolt just in time to keep out the stealthy thing that was following me up the walk. I long for the smell of cinnamon, apples and pumpkins baking in my oven.That aroma makes its way like an Autumn fog to the studio.

Potions

2011-07-31T12:44:00.000-04:00

Potions looks out over the line of Folks that waits outside her Cottage, wanting a Potion. Some have a spotted fever, some an unsightly wart or maybe a black fungus emerging from their ear, BUT most want a little something called LOVE. So desperate are they for LOVE in their lives that they are willing to stand in the pouring rain without a bumbershoot to pay the last coin in their purse for IT. The Elusive IT: LOVE.
It is tiring work, but this little witch knows its Power, knows that LOVE heals, that LOVE endures.
She is made of painted muslin, coffee dyed, baked and stitched upon. She has a tiny watch vial about her neck, that may be opened if you desire. She is about 14.3 inches tall.
May you be Happy.

The Ghost Bird

2011-07-24T11:20:00.001-04:00

There was a toad in the pool this morning. It was clinging to the pool sweep over by the drain, and when it saw me coming to rescue him, jumped into the water and swam away for dear life. It obviously did not recognize me as a form of HELP.
I patiently waited for him to come to the surface and watched as he chambered up onto the hose of the pool sweep, quite exhausted by the effort.
I was able to fish him out and was rewarded by finding another tiny companion, swimming listlessly in the outlet as well.
I had a thought about it all, besides the one where my kids chide me for picking up toads with my bare hands...
and wondered how many times I too have turned away from HELP, being unable to over come my FEAR, and walk the Path toward that which would HELP me and my situation.
I have been bossed around by Fear much of my life. I am ashamed to admit this cowardice, however it is none the less true.
I think I have mostly been afraid to succeed, as failure is what I am comfortable with, it is the familiar water of my Pool.
So. May I have sense enough to NOT turn away from that which would help me, teach me, GUIDE me, and May I not resist the urge to Succeed. may I attend to the thoughts that inspire me, and NOT dismiss them. May I act on them, actualize them and Recognize their source as being inspired.
May I have the good sense to appreciate the Prayers that are answered.
And may I have courage enough to act, TO ACT, TO ACT, even when I am Afraid to do so.
May you also.

Summer struggles.

2011-07-10T11:01:00.001-04:00

Good Morning from the Land of the Baggaraggs. Arrggggh ( Pie-rat talk) but its humid and hot. Mowed the grass yesterday and midway through got in to the pool to cool myself off. We lovingly refer to the Pool as the Polar Icecap, as its always COLD...being under the trees.
I am grateful to have a Polar Icecap Pool to dip myself into, and a Lawn to mow.
although I am slow in sales, I would like to openly thank God for an Etsy shop, and My gift of Creativity.
There are many things that have happened in the course of this summer that have been a weight on me, and my heart has at times been filled with anxiety. My daughter has been injured, my dog is sick, and ...I need a surgery myself.
We struggle don't we? I have little energy at times to PUSH Back against this encroachment to my contentment. I become immobilized. Worry freezes me. I loose my Emotional Balance.
Here is what I think really helps...

Find another person who will bow their head with you and Hear your Prayer. Pray out loud with them.( I did in the medication room the other evening at work, and I feel BETTER)
try to eat something GOOD everyday.
try hard to help some one else...it makes your own burden lighter.
Like Winston Churchill said NEVER GIVE UP. NEVER.
Push back against your physical limitations, Push back against the thoughts that LIMIT you.
I promise I will too. I Promise I will try my Hardest every day. and I will remember to be grateful for everything and to say THANKS.
May you be Happy and Free from suffering. Robin

A little Night Work

2011-07-02T13:51:00.000-04:00

Working nights can be hard on folks. Flying off 5 nights a week to St. Stygians Asylum to care for the depressed and psychotic can have an effect on a Witch. Maude keeps her chin up though and flies on, carries on and administers her Potions with tender, loving care.
Maude is 18 inches long and made of muslin that has been dyed in coffee and baked. She has also been painted and sewn upon. Maude is one of a kind. She has a hook for hanging and would enjoy a break from her nightly duties at the St. Stygian Asylum.

Summer thoughts.

2011-06-26T12:28:00.000-04:00

Its the summer of Birds, and It is the summer of Fish. It is the summer of late night swims in the pool and sleeping deeply, long into the quiet mornings. It is a mysterious summer, where pine needles collect in piles in the driveway without a witness to their descent. It is the summer of thursdays with my son and his girl and my sweet grandbaby. Lunches on the porch and playing in the water. It is a summer of worry about my daughter who has injured her shoulder, and has unrelenting pain. Worry about making ends meet the other ends and pulling it all together, not for myself but for my children and my grandchildren.
For me it is a summer in pajamas, feeling the soft cotton legs of my old bottoms wear and rub against the soft cotton skin of my ankles. It feels as if part of the fluid water of my swimming resides in my legs.
It is the mornings of the summer, where on a hard chair I sew my thoughts into things, surrounded by the detritus of thread and paper and fabric and feeling, that I step into my spot as creator. May you be happy. May you be peaceful. May you be healthy. May you be safe. May you be at ease. May you be free from suffering. Robin

Violet the Spool angel

2011-06-06T17:11:00.000-04:00

Violet likes to be called Daisy. She cannot remember where she left the car keys and believes that everyday is Tuesday. She is fascinated with watches and likes to take them apart, claiming she likes to know how things "tick."
Violet has been know to leave the water running in the pool, overnight. We woke to the gentle lapping of waves at the back slider last Tuesday, and it wasn't because there was a high tide. I called the water company and pleaded for leniency.
Violet is made of muslin and had a hand sewn nose. She has been coffee dyed, baked and painted and then glued to a vintage spool of blue thread. She stated that she would have preferred to be glued to a watch but I couldn't oblige.
Violet is almost 6 inches tall and comes with the sewn paper envelope.

http://oldfarmhousegathering.blogspot.com/

2011-06-03T22:16:00.002-04:00

The Old Farmhouse Gathering team is having a

Flag Day Appreciation Challenge!!!

Mark your calendars! Beginning Saturday, June 4th through Saturday, June 11th, you will have an opportunity to vote on your favorite Flag Day item. The rules are simple:

No pictures will be featured on the OFG Blog, however, shop locations will be listed first thing Saturday, June 4th as well as the poll to cast your vote. (Poll will be located on the sidebar.)
You will need to go to Etsy and type in the search bar FDOFG and visit each Etsy shop to see each participants item.
Return back to the OFG Blog and cast your vote.
Post a comment, leave your name and email address (we need this to contact you and have you respond with your mailing address) ~ If you prefer not to leave your email address, make sure you email Debbie at SugarMtnMercant@aol.com

The winner of the Challenge will receive a prize AND one voter (chosen at random among the comments) will also win a prize. Winners will be chosen and notified on Sunday, June 12th.

The Can of Sardines

2011-05-30T11:14:00.000-04:00

Here it is. reluctant I am to part with them...The one and only Can of sardines. Made of Osnaburg, the can is sewn and painted and has a handmade key of wire that has curled back the lid revealing four glorious sardine fish.It measures 7 inches long by a little more than 5 inches wide

Bucket List

2011-05-28T10:29:00.002-04:00

I have been thinking about making a Bucket List. You know the things that you want to do before you kick the Bucket. Its one of those defining moments, isn't it? One of my work friends Just had her Bat' Mitzva, and I am sure that she is the same age as me...said it was a part of her Bucket List.
Well, I think I have to Think...in Winnie the Pooh speak, about what I would like to do before I KICK the Bucket.
How about you? What do you want to do before you "Kick the Bucket?"
Jeez, I had just started to give myself permission to do the things I love and I am turning 57...now I have to think about this? Hah.
I would urge you not to wait to do the things you LOVE to do. Not Have to do. LOVE to do. I think my Bucket list will focus on those kinds of things.

May you be Happy. and fullfilled. have a great weekend. Robin. P.S. this Photo was taken at Selby Gardens by my Brilliant daughter Friedel.

The Three Bird garland

2011-05-27T23:52:00.000-04:00

Not to be confused with the Three dog night, is the Three bird garland. They are the quintessial Summer Harbingers, and would look fabulous hanging in your Kitchen window, or any spot where they can get a glimpse of the sunshine.
This Garland is 44 inches long and has three hand-did birds hanging from tiny closed hooks. The garland is made of scraps of fabric and vintage lace and bits of this and that

The Banana Wanderer Bird

2011-05-27T12:05:00.001-04:00

http://www.etsy.com/listing/74915232/the-banana-wanderer-bird

I found the Banana Wanderer in a Travelers Palm eating Cheerios. Voracious appetite this one. He is in constant search of bananas however is oddly unable to identify the Fruit.
He is made of Upholstery Fabric and vintage lace, and has a lovely striped ribbon adorning his middle. Vintage button eyes. he comes with his Specimen identifying Envelope that is sewn and finished with a vintage vegetable button.There is a thread for hanging.
He measures 4 inches by 3.4 inches.

Vera, a spool angel

2011-05-24T12:29:00.000-04:00

Vera is a spool angel with moss hair sewn to her little head. She is a collage of colorful fabrics and will arrive in this hand sewn paper envelope. Vera is attached to a vintage spool and stands 5 inches tall.
Vera refused to tell me her story. She made some insulting remarks about my writing abilities and said she would save her tale for her new "People."

Along the way Snail

2011-05-12T12:28:00.000-04:00

There are Friends that we make along our way...Folks that we come to love, and we would carry them on our backs if need be. Even as she makes her very Slow way along, the Snail transports a tiny bird upon a wire that is tucked in a handy pocket stitched to her side. They are BOTh headed in the Same direction, and though they are different from each other have found a common Purpose, and a common Path.
both are made from fabric that has been coffee dyed and baked and painted. The snail is glued to a rusted jar Lid. Dimensions: 9 inches or so tall and about 6 inches long. happy trails to you, and may you Be joined by a loving Friend to share your way. Long The Way Snail

From Baggaraggs

The Polka Chicken

2011-05-11T11:43:00.000-04:00

What can I say about the Polka Chicken? She loves oompah music, and Waltzs around the Barnyard with her Head thrown back and her Beak open. She longs to visit the Alps and wants to Start a Chicken Circus.
Ok, sure.
The Polka Chicken is a little more than 5.5 inches tall. She measures slightly over 6 inches in length. made of coffee dyed muslin, and scraps of vintage lace and fabric, she has a rusted bell attached to her apex . She has pink polka dots painted on her chest.
Everybody POLKA!!!

The Calico Sardines

2011-05-11T11:12:00.000-04:00

here's a pair of tiny fish for you. A pair of sardines. Both will come with a hook for hanging. Both are made from Muslin and their tail fins are Calico and vintage lace and Paper scraps. They are at my Etsy....I love Fish. Hope you are having a great day .http://www.etsy.com/listing/73861499/the-calico-sardines

Studio EMesis

2011-05-09T16:46:00.000-04:00

I really wanted to call this Studio Vomit. I guess I thought that sounded way to icky...but My drawing table looks like Calico throw-up. I am beyond the time to clean up and organize. But I am working and wiggle into the spot where I sew...and dig through piles of stuff...and make a bigger mess. I don't think there is any help for me. Somethings are better just to accept. I am a Folk artist leaving a trail of fabric detritus. I am a Folk Artist Leaving tiny trails of paint slime and thread lines, fabric crumbs straight to my Hands.

Happy Mother's day

2011-05-08T11:27:00.000-04:00

Hey Good Morning and Happy Mother's Day! I hope its seriously a Lovely Day for you wherever you are.

Mother's Day.

2011-05-01T10:06:00.000-04:00

From Baggaraggs

"I thought I lost you" said the Mother Bird to the Baby wo had fallen out of the nest. "I thought I could fly" said the baby bird, "but I can't yet..."
"Not yet, little bird, but soon...so very soon."
A Celebration of Mother's day in the bird world.
Made of muslin and vintage lace, fabric and HOPE for a reunion betwix the Mother and child. They have been coffee dyed and baked. Dimesions of the Mother bird: about 5" x 4". Dimesions of the baby:2.5" x 2".

Call for Folkartist interested in a Vermont Show?

2011-04-26T12:11:00.000-04:00

Hello Fellow folkartists. I am wondering if anyone has interest in participating in a folkart show that would be held at my sister's Inn in Vermont the weekend of October 22nd. The Inn is an esatblished one and advertising would be done throught the Vermont Lodging Association as well as local newspapers.Here is the link to my Sister's beautiful Inn: lilacinn.com Check it out. We are working on a package deal to those who would like to spend the weekend there.

2011-04-25T13:44:00.000-04:00

Baggaraggs

Well, it is evening in the Baggaraggs, and the temperature has dropped to under 90. We take a walk on the beach and watch as the sun begins to drop behind the horizon. I am standing in the waters of the Gulf and feel something poking at my ankles. I look down and see her as she gestures frantically to the place where my feet are planted on a sand dollar, a friend of hers. I move my giant clodhoppers and she waved her thanks, and disappeared. I am left to watch the sun dip into the waters of the Gulf with a smile upon my face.
Mirabel is tiny. She is made of muslin and is about 6 inches tall with her hair extended as if waving above her in the water. She is 4.5 inches wide.
she has been coffee dyed, baked and painted. She has vintage trims, buttons and lace.

Cecil Seahorse...BeachaRaggs

2011-04-25T12:44:00.000-04:00

I am embarking upon a new series of BeachaRaggs creatures...baggaraggs at the beach. I have been thinking of making some patterns and getting some copyrights. Thought you might like a glimpse of Cecil Seahorse.

Old Farmhouse gathering Giveaway

2011-04-17T16:42:00.000-04:00

This is my contribution to the GIVEAway...just thought you might want to see her....http://oldfarmhousegathering.blogspot.com/

Sweet Summertime Giveaway at the Old farmhouse Gathering

2011-04-17T16:30:00.000-04:00

Ok, Pay Attention NOW!!!!

There is a Giveaway to celebrate the Sweet Summertime at the OLD FARMHOUSE GATHERING. You gotta sign up. There are over 35 artisans (including me) that have signed up to donate to this Giveaway. All you have to do is click the link to enter. SO ENTER!!!!
These ladies are MAD Talented...like winning a POT of PRIMS!!!!

Good LUck. have a Raggy day.

Bella-a Gypsy Sparrow

2011-04-14T23:54:00.001-04:00

Bella- a Gypsy Sparrow

From Baggaraggs

There was a colorful caravan of Gypsies traveling through the woods near my home. My Mother warned me to stay away from them, and I know I should have listened, but they stopped to make their camp near the three cliffs where I liked to go and climb the monkey vines.
The old woman beckoned to me. She was seated next to the campfire and her wagon steps lead into the depths of what looked like the entrance to a circus. I did not have ears for her voice as she asked to tell my fortune, I had only eyes for the tiny bird, dressed in a Gypsie's shawl perched on the old woman's lantern. She was worn looking, but not defeated. Tired but still defiant.
" I have come for the sparrow," I croaked in a voice that was not my own. "I claim the Sparrow, Bella." And with that, the tiny bird flew to my shoulder, and took her place there amongst the strands of my long wheat colored hair.
The old woman stood, bent and crooked with a dome upon her back that seemed a hill on her very being that would soon bury her.. "Your Mother told you not to come here! Get thee, with your young magic!"
And I hurried away.
Bella is nearly 6 inches long, and made of fabric that has been coffee dyed and baked. She has vintage trims and hangs from a thread attached to a Yo-Yo.
She is worn looking, but not defeated. tired but still defiant

Bongo's Giant

2011-04-13T14:17:00.002-04:00

Bongo slept in his burrow after planting his carrot seeds. He awoke one spring morning to find the roots of a carrot thrusting its hairy chin through the wall of his cellar. With some effort he DUG and Dug, uncovering a prize that even he had not dreamt of...a Real Giant Carrot!!!
Hope your spring is full of surprises like Bongo's.
Bongo is made of muslin and calico. He has been coffee dyed and painted, baked and finished with vintage button eyes. His carrot is painted muslin. Bongo is my own design. He is 12 inches tall. His Prize carrot is detachable, if you can get it away from HIM.

Mother Blue

2011-04-08T23:25:00.000-04:00

Mother Blue

From Baggaraggs

She has seen some winters, our Mother Blue. We were glad to see her arrive this spring and take her place in the Blue Bird Box, albeit looking battered. Her life has been well spent raising countless chicks and singing many summer songs. She has lifted my heart, our Mother Blue.
Mother Blue is made of muslin and other fabrics. She has vintage button eyes and a a lovely piece of vintage lace that falls across her primaries to sheild her from the spring chill in the air. She has a large bell on her tummy, to chase off the neighbor's cat. Mother blue hangs from a piece of waxed linen thread that is sewn to an aqua colored yo-yo. she has been coffee dyed , baked and her dimensions are 5.5 inches long and 4 inches tall without the hanging thread.

2011-04-07T15:11:00.000-04:00

a pastel wind rustles the curtains, annoucing a sweet spring voice. It stirs me with energy, and fills me with the desire to discard old things, and make my home fresh and clean. This little bird sings a similar song of tidiness and vernal color.She is made of muslin with multi-layered wings of textured fabrics and lace. She hangs from a purple thread that is adorned with a handmade yo-yo flower. All have been coffee dyed, and baked. There is a tiny tag aroung her neck with the spring message,"Nest." Dimensions: 6 inches long x 4.5 inches tall. Baggaraggs.Etsy.com

2011-04-06T11:28:00.000-04:00

I have been struggling with this new computer and a person would think by now I would have it down pat. My old one crashed before Christmas last year, and was replaced with me transferring the old files to the new one. One of the biggest problems is the loading of photos from the computer to my Etsy or facebook or my BLOG. Sideways. I have edited them through smart media and they seem perfectly normal, then when loaded they are sideways. So please bare with me. I may have to go through Photobucket or actually consult my husband, the Great Brain...and give him yet another opportunity to be Right. Or maybe you all will have to look at sideways pictures. Just turn your monitor...upward...

bittersweet

2011-03-27T10:08:00.000-04:00

My daughter is visiting from Los Angeles. We are a pair of creativity freaks that are threaded tightly together; working in the studio, drinking kombucha tea (that she has introduced me to), laughing and crying. I has reminded me of the words "bitter sweet." it will be so hard to let her go. I hate to have to spend any time sleeping.

Romantic Moment

2011-03-02T10:36:00.000-05:00

There are moments when you feel as if your Memory is a thing carved in stone, something that will always be remembered. Grace Tenderstitch watched as Bennet stood and brushed the grass from his bottom and wondered what it would be like to have the familiarity with a man that would permit that kind of touch. The moment locked itself in her mind and awakened a kind of physical longing in Grace, filled her with a desire to have and hold, and to be had and held. It had been such a long time since she had this stirring sense that her face blushed red; "red as a beet" she could hear her Mother say. And so she did not hesitate when Bennet reached for her hand to help her to her feet, and did not hesitate to hang on to his hand when they walked back towards the picnic, her other hand holding the bunched fabric of her torn dress at her hip to cover herself.
Bennet seemed to feel it too, the melting sensation that blurs the awkward moments and rounds off the edges of beginning times. He had already had that feeling for Grace when he was assembling the Picnic Breakfast. He felt bigger inside himself and bolder, momentarily wondering at his effort.
"I am so sorry about your dress, Grace," Bennet offered.
Grace untangled her fingers reluctantly from those of Bennet's, and looped the dress about her waist tying it in a hitch against itself.
"I can fix it Bennet," she said. She sighed and took his hand again.

Hooray!!!! featured today

2011-02-03T11:03:00.001-05:00

I am featured on the By Your Hands Blog today. Fabulous! http://byyourhands.blogspot.com/

The Notions Snail Box

2011-02-02T13:28:00.000-05:00

Its a box to store the lovely tiny things that you have slowly collected, maybe buttons, maybe acorns, maybe spools, maybe lint...

Notions is made of muslin that has been coffee dyed and baked. he has vintage buttons eyes and long cloth covered wire antenae. He is glued upon a painted wooden oval shaped box. it is trimmed with vintage lace and a vine ribbon.

Amost 7 inches tall without the extensio of the antenae, and about 8 inches wide.

Valentines Day Angel with advice to sustain a good marriage...

2011-01-23T17:58:00.000-05:00

Arnette has an advice column in the Baggaraggs Gazette. She frequently answers questions about sustaining a healthy marriage, and maintaining Romance. She suggests that you store up a bank of memories of loving embraces, tender looks and sweet words from your spouse that you may refer back to when there are Moments of what we like to call "Friction or Peevishness," that sometimes occur in the connubial relationship. This may prevent a costly divorce or worse, criminal charges and a lengthy jail term.

Arnette is about 7 inches tall. She is made of muslin and comes with an envelope that has been collaged upon and has a gromet set for handy hanging upon the wall. (The envelope, not the spouse)

Plumbing

2011-01-16T13:01:00.000-05:00

Ok, so I am hearing a noise that sounds like running water in the bathroom, but Everything is turned off. I am writing this passage in small text in hopes to minimize the BILL that I am sure will be staggeringly Large. So Last night I get home from the hospital to towels, yes my GOOD ones, lying in a sopping mess on the bathroom floor with MY husband looking more agitated than normal. Something is leaking, and welling up in the floor. Well, isn't that just GRAnd? So at midnight, we are rocketing around the house, outside with a flashlight, looking for the water valve to shut off the water hurry up it won't turn oh get a screw driver can't get it to turn, that's the wrong valve you've shut off the pool, ok that's the right one. WHEW!!!!!
Ok, so today, the plumber comes and I guess we have a slab leak and the house has to be re-plumbed.
I guess no one told the household gremlins that seem to be so intent on having the place crumble, that we are starting a new year and that NOW, everything is supposed to be just PEACHY!!!!
So far this year, I have not spent any time at all in the studio except to try to organize it. I am doubtful about using my regular vacuum in there for the floor, because I think the first swipe will surely clog up the bag and I think I will have to use the SHOP VAC.
Well, that's it for me. I hope all is well with you guys. may we be free from suffering, happy and peaceful. RObin of baggaraggs.

Dreaming

2011-01-08T18:16:00.000-05:00

It is a dream of course. I am laying at the bottom of the sea, gently caressed by the frondy fingers of the seaweed. It is warm here and I do not have to trouble myself with breathing. I look up and see the vibrant bands of blue-green light from above, illuminating the lazy descent of a large Fish who seems to be headed my way. he looks like a whimsical torpedo and carries a corked glass vial about his neck.
He comes to me and nudges a scroll of paper into my hand, and with a fin waves a pen for writing. He nods his head in encouragement as I write my message. It is finished and corked inside the vial for delivery.

I wave goodbye with a mermaid's tail that I have sprouted somehow. I watch as the fish ascends to the surface and uncorks my message from the tiny vial. Upon the waters he pours out my message of hope. "Let there be peace on Earth."

2011

2010-12-31T16:10:00.000-05:00

I am waking each morning to the darkness of pain in my shoulder and elbow and back. It is starting the day in this way that has me bothered, as if some black Bell tolls out another step toward my Body crumbling. I am feeling as if my strength is ebbing and my spirit is flagging. These times I carve out a hole for hiding and rest from fears that I will stay stuck in this dreadful rut of SElf-Pity.
I will believe and honor this day that I am just gathering and recooping my strength, find my favorite quilt and sleep a few moments without guilt or worry that I am never going to get my creativity back. I have decided to spend each day trying to make someone else happy and be happy myself by acting from a place of Love. there are no other resolutions. may you be Happy, May you be healthy, may you be peaceful, may you be safe and may you be free from Suffering. May I also. happy 2011. There is nothing that can seperate us from the Love of God.

2010-12-09T19:57:00.002-05:00

I would like you to help me welcome a few newcomers to the world of the baggaraggs. Ada Boffit and Norma. Both dressed for Christmas and available at my Etsy. I am sorry I have been MIA. My Mother Board has been Down and I had to buy a new computer.

Happy Thanksgiving

2010-11-25T10:30:00.000-05:00

Just wishing you all the Happiest of Thanksgivings. I am working at the hospital today.
I have been very busy trying to get ready for the holidays. I have been neglecting my Blog and my story. Please forgive me.

Here are some of the things that I have been working on that you can find at my Etsy. I hope that you have a magical Thanksgiving.

been a while

2010-11-16T11:59:00.000-05:00

So today I had to appear in court, as I was a witness to a traffic accident that happened on I-75, this summer. I watched in helpless Horror as a driver of a furniture truck switched lanes without apparently seeing the car next to him. He drove his truck over the side of the car, ripping the car to pieces and causing the car to loose control. I yelled out "Jesus help them." The car served to the right shoulder and came back into the right lane and collided again with the truck. They then parted again and the car veered into the palmetto off of the highway and I seriously thought that the people inside that car were dead.
The car was shredded.
I stopped and with shaking hands dialed 911 before getting out of my car to see if I could assist them in some way.
No one was injured. Not the folks in the truck, or the people in the car.
I could not honestly understand how this could be but I was thankful to God that it was so.
Today, I had to confront the driver of the truck in front of a Judge, who claimed that the people in car drove into him instead of vice versa. Not so. The driver of the truck was found guilty, and was angry by this verdict. After we exited the court room, he was quite hostile, yelling at me that I had lied and done so in a court room. REALLY? He was quite intimidating, and to be truthful, I was a little afraid. I did feel calm. I did think there was something that I should say, but I said nothing.
I did feel peaceful. I am sorry that the driver was fined and that he may have lost his CDL license to operate a truck, but everyone was alive and uninjured. That was the most important part of the whole thing to me. It seemed a fairly simple conclusion to come to.
The driver of the truck was so angry. I struggle to try to understand how he thinks lying about any of this would make it better.
I have lied before in my life. I confess to this. I am not much of a liar now adays.
To lie about something so very serious though is to twist your spirit into a hunk of shredded metal, not unlike that car totalled on the highway.
Please be careful driving. This is an unusual post for me. This episode occurred the same weekend that my friend Debra of Monniebean witnessed another terrible accident many states away in New York. She also stopped to render aid.
Please be a helpful citizen. Even if you have to go to court, do your best to try to make things right.
Please try not to lie. Your guts might get twisted up as a result and that would leave you in pain.
Please handle your anger appropriately. I don't know what to say about that. Claim the gift that is meant for YOU. If its not yours don't accept it.
Thanks for reading. Peace out.

My Visit

2010-10-22T11:18:00.000-04:00

I recently had an opportunity to visit with my sisters in Vermont. It was LOVELY. I love my sisters so much. We had a great time.

Bennet acts.

2010-10-04T13:36:00.000-04:00

Startled by Grace's fall and her thrashing about, Bennet found his feet in motion, full throttle through the meadow toward her. Doves launched from the field, rising hastily on their squeaky wings to get out of his way as he tore down the hillside and reached her yelling "Grace, what is it, what is it?"
Hysterical laughter mixed with tears was all that Grace could respond. She was reaching up inside her skirt hem batting at herself.
Bennet decided this was his time to act. he grabbed the offending dress bottom and heaved, rending the seam at the waist, and revealing , to his acute astonishment Grace's Pink under panties with tiny cranberry roses on them. A large green grasshopper sprang out and ricocheted off his left shoulder, bounding away.
Grace angrily covered herself and them tried to rescue her torn clothing from Bennet.
"Look what you did," she cried.
"I'm sorry, "he stuttered, horrified.
Grace glared at him, until at last a ting hysterical giggle issued forth and they both dissolved in laughter, slumped in the long grasses of the field.

The Romance begins.....

2010-09-25T22:12:00.000-04:00

Grace Tenderstitch gingerly picked her way up the path through her field. She wondered if she should have worn a hat, and briefly chided herself for lack of confidence. She was aware that Bennet watched her progress, aware that her feet were sweating in her good shoes and that they pinched her bunion. She was admittedly nervous and felt the hem of her slip catch irritably on a patch of leg hair that she had missed while shaving that morning. She tried hard to look like she was walking in a relaxed fashion but the heels of her shoes dug in the ground and threatened to topple her. Never the less she held her head high and made great progress, sauntering along like she was use to going to a breakfast picnic at 7:30 every morning. She would normally watch where she put her feet but today she felt like a model on a runway, albeit one that wound through a tall grassy field. Her filmy flowered dress shifted off a shoulder, and dipped down causing Grace to pause and slip it back where it belonged. She was smiling in the direction of Bennet Wimmer when the grasshopper took aim at her thigh and flipped itself inside her dress, coming to rest on her inner leg close to the place where the elastic from her underwear gathered itself in the crease of her leg.
Grace Tenderstitch leaped into the air as if she was launched by an unseen trampoline. She grabbed at her crotch, and made wild shooing gestures to get the offending creature off of her inner thigh. The raspy legs and feet of the grasshopper tickled her unmercifully and Grace let out a squeal that was with her contortions and gyrations difficult for Bennet to interpret. He smiled nervously and then chuckled hesitantly, thinking that Grace was having a bit of fun, until Grace actually fell to the ground, swatting at her lower body like it was biting her.

Interview with Debra of Monniebean

2010-09-16T12:31:00.000-04:00

I am I confess a copycat of sorts, Maybe. But maybe Debra of Monniebean and I are kindred spirits, close enough in a very deeply spiritual way that we have similar ideas, and similar happenings. So when she suggested that she interview me for her blog I thought that I would interview her. I wish I had thought of it first...the idea that is. I do know a few things about her  that I will share with you. Her WORK IS FABULOUS.  Debra and I met on Etsy, we were both enchanted by bugs. We got to chatting and it became clear that we were ....kindred spirits.Some folks get some skills but Debra (I call her Bean and she calls me Baggy) has alot of Talents. She is a gifted Artist, Photographer and Designer.                                                                                                                                              Here are the questions I asked her: Tell us a little bit about yourself: 1)I am married to my sweet husband Geoff. We just had our 21st anniversary! We have one child, a son, Micah.

Is there anything significant about the name MONNIEBEAN?                                                                   2)My business name, Monnie bean Folk art came form my great-grandmother. Her first name was Cora-how it got changed to 'Monnie' is a story I don't know, but I love her name anyway. I needed to identify my art with the name, so I put 'folk art' at the end. I like the way it looks and sounds. I think names are very important for a person or a business.

What excites or inspires you Bean?                                                                                                            3)I am very excited by prim art and folk art, but I really don't think I am very good at either. I think my real talent lies in design. I used to do silk screening and the designs were bold and funky. I wish I still had all my old equipment for silk screening, but I donated it years ago. I'm sort of returning to it in the stencil work I'm doing on burlap.

I am inspired by: magazines, color combinations, clouds, childrens' art work, old clothing, wool, primitive artists that can really pull it off, like-Baggaraggs, Vermont Harvest, Middleburg, all the great ones that I follow on my blogs-there's so many out there that make me say "Wow!"
How do you know when you are finished with a piece of ART?
4) I'm getting better at knowing when I'm finished with a piece-but I did have the bad habit of working something to death that was just NOT working to begin with, thinking I could make it work somehow. That's not a good idea. Now I stop at the first sign that things are not coming out right. I have a huge pile of rejects. I recycle everything though, and rejects always make you learn something!
What are your BUsiness goals?
5)My goals for my business are to make 100 dollars a week. I would be very excited over that.
Favorite Quote or saying?
6)Favorite quote: "Lord, please make me the kind of person my dog thinks I am." When I saw that hanging on the wall in our vet's office, it actually brought tears to my eyes. We had to be extremely patient with our dog, Cheyenne, when we got her because she had been abused. I learned a lot from a dog! But sometimes my rotten attitudes and actions grieve me so much! My dog loves me anyway...
What are your goals for your Business?
7)I'd like to see my business being settled to two or three things I am good at, and not so many that I don't have a cohesive look. I want really nice business cards and a great logo, tags, the whole thing. In five years I'd love to have a write up in some magazine, or have work in a gallery somewhere.

Where would you like to see your work Published?
8)Well, if my work was in a magazine-I think I'd love to have it be in "Where Women Create," which I am just gaga over. I drag my copy everywhere I go and have been so inspired by every issue. If I could make it in that publication, I would think-"wow-my art must inspire someone."

Ok the island question,what 7 items would you take (there is food and water) for two weeks if you were stranded on a desert island ( I prefer dessert island)
9)OK-the island-first of all-there are no snakes, spiders or creepy things on that island...but the seven things I'd take would be my Bible,lots of dark chocolate,sketchbook and pencil,the latest issue of Where Women Create,my camera,coffee and coffee pot.
Any classes that you would like to take?
10) A class I would take would be water color painting.

Bean What is your Fav color?
11)My favorite color is rusty orange.
And your Fav Bible verse.
12)My favorite Bible verse is Psalm 118:17 "I shall not die, but live, and declare the works of the Lord."

No ONE does Birds like Bean. NO ONE. She has a love for Nature that is apparent in her interpretation of BIRDS. Debra has also started a new Etsy Business called BeanBaggs. She makes fabulous Purses and pillows. Aren't they fabulous? Well Bean. I think we will meet one of these days. I hope so anyway. Keep on inspiring others with your Beautiful Photos at Sparrowgrass.

-http://www.etsy.com/shop/BeanBaggs

Coming SOOON....

2010-09-15T10:56:00.000-04:00

I am interviewing the Brilliant Folk Artist DEBRA, the Creator of Monniebean Folk Art and the Photographer and writer Behind Sparrowgrass. Stay Tuned...

2010-09-13T10:58:00.000-04:00

I took this photo at Bellingrath Gardens in Mobile. It beckons with the light at the end of this covered wallway. I was captivated by it.

Hortense Hopp

2010-09-12T14:07:00.000-04:00

I had to laugh at this Glamour shot that Hortense wanted for her Etsy Picture.

Angels watching over you.

2010-09-11T14:02:00.001-04:00

on this day, the anniversary of 9-11,

I am thinking of those people in this world who have lost someone the day we were attacked, and praying for them. I hope we can all learn to live in peace and respect each other's faith.

Madly Working...

2010-09-07T12:53:00.000-04:00

Hillie.Flights just zoomed out of the studio. I know I have left Bennet waiting for Grace. I am WORKING ON MY STORY>>>> Sorry its taking me so long....

Companions

2010-09-05T17:26:00.000-04:00

Halloween is COMING!!!!

Halloween is COMING!!!!!

Bennet's morning

2010-08-19T12:26:00.001-04:00

Bennet Wimmer rose early that morning. The sunlight coming through the eastern window of his second story room fell on a rag rug lying on the wooden floor. Bennet sat at the bedside and struggled to get his socks onto his feet. He watched as the sunlight seemed to illuminate the rug, where thousands of tiny threads reached up from the rags to connect with the dust motes in the air. He wondered what the connection meant, and instantly thought of the unusual connection he felt to Grace. For the one millionth time, he wondered also about the invitation that he had offered her. He was not really a spontaneous personality type. He thought things over and liked to think that he made decisions with careful planning. He wondered if this new behavior was born of grief over the recent loss of his Mother, and the awareness that time was moving on.
He climbed down the narrow stairs to the hallway below, his hand familiar with the places on the wall of the stairwell where he reached out to balance himself descending. He did not need to watch the steps in his descent but did so out of habit, aware that the color of the wood had faded in the center of each riser. He was oddly comforted to acknowledge that his Mother's feet had made this path going up and down.
The old red wagon that his Mother had used to pull him as a child stood filled with most of the makings of the morning picnic that he hoped to have with Grace. He needed to add a carafe of Hot coffee, and a container of cream, then all would be ready to go. He glanced with some doubt at the ball jar filled with flowers he had cut from his Mother's garden. The gangly stem of a dill flower hung out of the back of the wagon, somehow dislodged from the bunch. he pushed it down into the water of the jar with its companions, wondering if he had over done it. He was aware that he felt slightly foolish, and had lost some of his enthusiasm over night. "Well, hope she shows up" this he said aloud to his Mother's cat.
Bennet left early, pulling the wagon gingerly behind him. He was patient with the readjustment needed to its contents as he bumped over the paths and up the hill into the woods. He was sweating by the time he reached the top of the field where he was to meet Grace, and he was aware that somehow a butterfly had fluttered into his stomach and beat its velvet wings against his diaphragm.
He spread an old quilt upon the ground, and recoiled in horror as he realized that he had selected a double wedding ring design. "Now she will think I am trying to get married...Oh my Gosh, what am I doing?" he made a silent wish that she would not notice the faded design or associate it as he had with some kind of commitment.
He set the breakfast as best as he could with the jar of flowers sitting slightly off kilter in the middle of the blanket. He was not aware that his friends the trees seem to incline their trunks and branches toward the scene and make a bougher with their leafy arms.
The sun was shining brightly, and the birds were singing when Grace Tenderstitch stepped out into the morning. She swallowed nervously as she picked her way through the garden, wondering if she had used enough deodorant, wondering if she looked ok, wondering if her hair was right, wondering if she had over done it. She nervously glanced at Murray who was at her side, escorting her as if to an altar.
Bennet Wimmer nervously glanced at his watch for the one millionth time. He watched as she emerged from her back door into the garden, shifted his weight onto the balls of his feet. He stood with his own hands clasped in nervous anticipation and felt a surge of delight as the butterflies in his stomach beat wildly against his ribcage.

The Upstairs Mending Maid

2010-08-14T11:39:00.000-04:00

She was fired from her job as the Upstairs Mending Maid for whirling about the Ballroom.

The MossThread Museum

2010-08-11T20:11:00.001-04:00

I am beginning a new venture. Its called The MossThread Museum. I have started a new Blog and a New Etsy shop. It will feature vintage lace and linens with manufactured provenances...made up ones. the stories will be told by the curator and prisoner of the MossThread Museum, whose name is Ledley Barbour. I am excited about this new endeavor and hope to offer some new things for Halloween, Bugs and such. Wish me LUCK. truly your Friend, Robin

Grace makes a Decision

2010-08-10T10:50:00.002-04:00

Matters of the Heart are sometimes complicated. The heart has its history in every person after all. It has a memory of tenderness and yearning, reaching out for another and being brushed away like crumbs on a shirtfront. It never completely hardens, don't ever let anyone tell you that. I won't believe it, and I hope you don't either because that means that the hardness has crept into your own heart. But that is your story. This is Grace's story. Grace's heart had become fearful of hurt and did not trust. She loved her animals, thought of them as people. They were her people. But some time long ago, Grace had really stopped trusting Human Beings.
She had accepted this, binding herself to her land and her animals with years of work and care. She was therefore somewhat surprised to find a tiny creeping feeling of interest in Bennet Wimmer.
Have you ever found something unexpected growing in your garden. Something that just popped up? Besides weeds, of course. My Mother use to call these little surprises "Volunteers." That is what Grace felt popping up in her heart, a "Volunteer." A tiny, tender shoot of emotional greening. I can tell you right now, she was tempted to stomp it out like some people grind out a cigarette butt.
As the day wore on, this feeling of ambivalence simmered in Grace's gut, making her feel slightly flu-ish.
Murray waited and watched her. Stewing.
He was relieved when she finally spoke later that afternoon. "I am not going up there tomorrow morning Murray."
Grace spoke her thoughts as if Murray had shared every thought she had processed in her brain all that long day. There was no prelude. She did not talk about her preoccupation and knew it was not necessary.
Murray knew his part in this kind of exchange and only grunted in response. He knew it was best to try to let Grace work this out for herself.
"I think its best to not start something like this with him, that Bennet Wimmer."
"Of course, I am not sure what THIS really is Murray." Murray nodded and grunted again, wondering what there was for supper. This process with Grace could take a while and he was hungry.
"Maybe I should go tomorrow morning, see what he has in mind...just be neighborly...maybe it would be rude to not show up at all. Afterall, he has just lost his Mother, poor man."
This one sided conversation went on and on. Murray never actually did more than grunt and shake his head in what he thought might be an appropriate spot.
Grace finally concluded "Ok Murray, I am going to meet Bennet Wimmer tomorrow morning. No expectations. Just the neighborly thing to do."
Murray nodded and rolled onto his side. He was exhausted.

Butterfly Angel

2010-07-30T13:55:00.001-04:00

A Windy Day

2010-07-28T00:19:00.002-04:00

Murry's senses

2010-07-18T11:35:00.002-04:00

Murray was a good dog that did not get on the furniture or chew up Grace's Shoes. Like all dogs that I have known, he was present in the MOMENT of Now, and much of this was based by how in tune he was with all of his senses. He trusted his nose, his eyes, and his ears. His interpretation of behavior was something processed through all of those senses as well, and as a result Murray had instantly liked Bennet Wimmer. He did not smell like fear or aggression, or anxiety. Bennet smelled vaguely of bacon and that was GOOD. Murray liked Bennet's voice. It was not deceitful or angry or Frightening. And that was Good. Bennet had also stood his ground when Grace had angrily advanced upon him. He had been calm, assertive and confident. All that was Good. In addition, he had invited Grace back the next day for some further meeting, which may or may not mean sharing food...and that may be Good too.
And so it was that Murray had a hard time understanding why Grace would be so agitated and angry with Bennet. What was her problem?
Murray laid on a rug made of leftover strips of Grace's sewing and old clothes. He laid his head on his out stretched paws and breathed in the scent of the rug, comforted by all the familiar smells of his own SPOT. Grace's movements in the Kitchen disturbed his mind, and his ears twitched as Grace jerked open the silverware drawer. Its contents nearly scattered all over the floor.
Murray did not comment. He knew that if he waited with patience that Grace would tell him the Why of her anger. In the meantime, he formulated his own opinion based on her smell. She smelled angry, anxious and...interestingly enough...aroused.

Tibbet

2010-07-17T00:19:00.000-04:00

Endive Buckley

2010-07-16T23:37:00.000-04:00

She pronounces her name ONDEEVE. Just so you know.

Fish Sticks

2010-07-14T20:59:00.001-04:00

Lavender and grapefruit Turnovers

2010-07-12T11:02:00.002-04:00

Ok so here is a recap. Bennet Wimmer is kinda spying on Grace, she confronts him , she is MAD, he is calm, he insults her then invites her to meet him at the gate the next morning....OK Right!

If we had Bennet's monocular and could train its lens upon him, this is what we would see...Bennet sat at the base of an old oak tree and seemed to be speaking out loud.
"So, I should just be myself, and when the time comes that seems appropriate I should just tell her about my secret," at this he stumbled a bit like the word "secret" had cleverly tripped him.
he plucked a blade of grass and stuck it in his mouth, glancing upward and leaning back into the hard ridges of the trunk.
The tree seem to cradle him then, and if the branches could nod "yes" in a singular fashion, then they did, as if to affirm his suggestion.
"Ok , well that's a plan then..." He stood up, albeit not as sprightly as he was as a boy, and the tree seemed to try to gently lift him to his feet as an afterthought, with an outstretched limb.
Bennet gently touched the trunk and said "Ill talk to you later."
At home , Bennet Wimmer stood in the kitchen and thought a minute. He would make a breakfast picnic for them tomorrow. He would make his favorite breakfast treat to share with Grace. Hopefully it would help assuage her anger towards him.
Here is what he made:
Lavender and Grapefruit Turnovers
one sheet of frozen puff pastry
one block of cream cheese, softened
one egg
3/4 cup of raw sugar
one large tablespoon of sour cream
one tablespoon of lavender buds
one teaspoon scant of grapefruit zest
two tablespoons of grapefruit juice
Roll out the sheet of frozen pastry dough and cut into 6 equal squares. Set aside.
Beat the next ingredients until light and fluffy.
Heat your oven to 400degrees. Butter a cookie sheet and place all six squares on it. Place a heaping tablespoon in the center of each pastry square and fold inward, pinching the center points together. Bake for approximately 20 mins or so...but check at 15 mins. especially if you have a fast oven.
If these pop open during baking, not to worry, they can be reshaped when cooling. Dust with powered sugar, and serve with nice hot coffee.

Petals

2010-06-28T12:03:00.000-04:00

Ever wonder where all the Petals go to as they Fall upon the ground? Petals sweeps them UP, and gives them to the Fairies for their Fragrant beds at NIght.

Bennet's Thoughts

2010-06-26T12:27:00.000-04:00

Bennet Wimmer watched as Grace flounced off. His mind was swimming with ideas and possibilities and he felt excited. The experience of Grieving can have as many impacts on Folks as there are Folks. The recent passing Of Bennet's Mother had introduced a kind of soul searching that Bennet found vaguely uncomfortable. He had spent his life teaching, and that had been satisfying, but Bennet knew that he had passed up a number of opportunities to develop an intimate relationship with another human being. He had chosen to be closest to Trees, and he had been guarded but professional with his students.
As he made his way back across the field to his home, Bennet thought about his interaction with Grace, and felt a kind of intimacy that her anger had established. Standing before him in what was clearly her pajamas, with her hair a bush of grey flannel upon her head, ranting like a lunatic...Bennet smiled.
He liked her.

The Blue Pidgeon Guardian

2010-06-26T12:11:00.001-04:00

The Blue Pidgeon Guardian will have to have a new Tag, I spelled his name incorrectly. Its Pidgeon not Pigeon....LOL

Jasper, The Threader

2010-06-08T11:37:00.000-04:00

My Friend Debra of fabulous Monnie Bean Folk Art http://monniebeanfolkart.blogspot.com/ suggested that I make a few more Threaders. For those of you who do not know what a Threader is....he or she has the job of threading the needle on the Thread pusher as nothing is sewn with a threadless needle. Threaders usually have uncommonly large eyes for seeing into tiny places. jasper has ONE large eyeball that he uses to magnify the tiny spot where the thread goes.

A word about fellow bloggers: I appreciate you all, your links and comments are the lifeblood of this blog. I thank you for reading these stories and, as does Grace Tenderstitch and the other creatures in the Land of Baggaraggs. Have a lovely DAY. Robin

Spelling BEE

2010-06-05T13:49:00.000-04:00

Buster lost his place in the Finals at the Spelling Bee when he was asked to spell the word "Insecticide."

More Meeting

2010-06-03T12:13:00.001-04:00

Grace stopped. Her eyes searched his face then cast themselves sideways to recollect. "Bennet Wimmer," she said questioning her memory. An image of a boy in the top of a popular tree came to her mind. He was swaying at the top of the tree, gently at first, riding the branches back and forth. One hand was held up to the sky, as if to balance from the very clouds above. The wind picked up and the rocking became more exaggerated. Beneath the tree, other children cheered him on in his recklessness. It wasn't long before the young poplar gave way to his weight in the wind. Grace remembered how she had watched in fascination, as the tree had bent itself in half and how Bennet had clung to the top most branches, dangling 15 feet from the ground, before he had dropped into a heap on the ground. She had run across the field to join her peers gathered around him to see if he was dead. It was child's memory, and made her giggle out loud in discomfort.
All of this ticker-taped vividly through her mind in a manner of seconds. This was Bennet Wimmer, she said to herself, That Bennet Wimmer. This was the son of Mrs. Wimmer...who had gone off to some weird college in Florida to become a tree specialist or Botanist...or something...
Grace was aware that her face had gone a bit red. Her neck felt welty. Hot. He waited for the connection with his hand thrust between the rungs of the fence.
Bennet watched as all of these images swam before her eyes. The seconds passed and he considered withdrawing his hand, and was about to that very thing, when Grace grasp it.
"I remember you Bennet, I remember you now. You were the boy that was so crazy about the trees." Grace smiled. "I do remember you."
"And you were the Girl that heard the voices," blurted out Bennet. He knew in an instant that he had said the wrong thing.
"Heard voices?" Grace snapped. "HEARD VOICES? What are you talking about? I never heard any voices. Voices? Like I am Crazy?" she queried.
"No, NO, sorry, I didn't mean it that way. Look, I am so sorry. I didn't mean that I thought you heard voices, it was just a nasty rumor that the kids would spread about you...back when we were kids...you know." He back pedaled but felt the more he said the worse it got.
"OTHER kids SAID that about ME?" Grace said as she brushed at some stubborn crumbs that seemed to have been glued to her chin.
"I never knew that. Well, thanks so much Bennet. Its been such a pleasure seeing you again."
"Well," began Bennet, "Hold on now, kids said terrible things about me as a child, and I knew what they said. At least you didn't...until now," he finished lamely. "Grace," he began again, "I wasn't spying on you, I carry my monocular with me, I saw movement down below, and well, I just wanted to investigate. I was not trying to spy on you really. I apologize for what seems now like a creepy thing to do."
Grace recognized his contrition, his attempt to make things better, but it barely soothed her ruffled feathers.
"Thanks Bennet. Look, I am sorry to have heard about your Mom. This is awkward. I should have gone to the service for her, the funeral, but I just couldn't make it." Grace offered all of this with starch in her voice. She was being polite, she did feel bad for him just on principle, but her mind dwelled on the earlier remark about the voices. It had explained alot about why her peers had acted the way they did. She wanted now to hurry away and dissect those memories, and put them back together in a manner that made sense to her.
Bennet just felt bad. His first contact with a neighbor, and he had screwed it up. "That's OK Grace." This was all he could volunteer, all he could think of to say to the woman who stood before him on the other side of the gate.
Amends, he thought to himself. Make amends. He argued silently with himself, why do I care, he thought?
"Grace, can you be here tomorrow at say around seven thirty?"
""Here? I live here Bennet. I am here all the time," she replied cantankerously.
"No," he replied with great frustration now, "Here at the gate, tomorrow morning."
She shrugged her shoulders noncommittally. She turned to walk down the path, and said over her shoulder, "Yeah sure. seven thirty. At the gate. Tomorrow."
Grace had no intention of being at the gate at seven thirty. With out looking back, Grace flounced down the path through her pasture.
"Voices," she said under her breath to Murray who was trotting at her side. "Do you see what people say about me Murray?"
Murray looked up at Grace with an expression of disgust. He had never regretted for a single day the gift of communication that they shared. He said nothing.
When Bennet called after them "See ya tomorrow," Grace just waved her hand in a backward sign of farewell.

The Meeting

2010-05-31T19:53:00.003-04:00

Bennet Wimmer watched in horror as Grace Tenderstitch came full speed up the pasture towards him. He was absolutely transfixed, couldn't have moved if he wanted to. His toes tried to curl in his walking shoes around the bottom rung of the gate. He was vaguely aware that he was holding his breath, and part of him thought the best thing to do was to turn around and high tail it. The chin of her face seemed to lead the way, but mostly his eyes were fixed upon her breasts which unbound in her undershirt, bounced like two partially inflated umbrellas upon her chest as she flew up the path.
Grace was in a rage, that was a certainty. All of the anger and despair of the past months gathered themselves with unbelievable force at this perceived intrusion, and Grace felt an energy that she had missed as the adrenaline surged through her brain. Gone were the arthritic movements. Grace was shot like an arrow from a bow of Outrage that hurled her without her good judgement at the Target of Bennet Wimmer. Murray hurried along at her side, saying quietly "Grace wait a minute...wait Grace...wait." He had seen Grace lose her temper before and usually the outcome was ...poor.
She bounced on, breasts bobbing, and slipped on a patch of mud, momentarily doing a wild kind of split. She caught herself and trying to recover some of her dignity, tugged her pajama bottom up, as they had slipped more than what she thought was prudent.
She had almost reached her destination when Bennet hopped backward from the gate, putting that firmly between them. He was not sure of her intentions. He had heard some stories about Grace when growing up, something about her hearing voices. He hadn't paid any attention, he was more interested in remembering the names and places of the trees, then participating in silly rumors about GIRLS. He found that he was smiling vaguely, sheepishly, and that his heart was beating fast in his own chest. (Run,he thought, RUN AWAY)
Grace stopped about six feet from the gate to her pasture. She glanced down and was aware that a few muffin crumbs clung precariously to her undershirt. She brushed then away, then self consciously crossed her arms over her breasts.
"What are you doing? Who are you and what do you mean spying on me like that? " Grace did not give him a chance to answer. "I know all about people like you. Voyeurs aren't you? Isn't that the name of people like you?" Her chest heaved. He started to speak but Grace cut him off. "If I ever see you train that ....monocular on me again I will Have you arrested. Do you understand me?" Grace spat this last part out like it was an unpleasant taste in her mouth. Her face was red. "The nerve of you...stalkers. I will set my dog on you if you dare come round here again." Murray looked at Grace doubtfully and hung his head.
Bennet Wimmer looked at Grace and could not help his smile. It was fixed to his face like he was born that way. He was mortified. Not knowing what else to do, he stuck out his hand and said "Hello, I think you are Grace...do you remember me? I am Bennet Wimmer, your neighbor."

Spying

2010-05-31T13:54:00.002-04:00

Bennet Wimmer's scrutiny of the Tenderstitch Farm drew his gaze to the garden gate of the home where Grace lived. As he watched he saw movement there and he fished in his pocket for his Monocular. He liked to think that this single lens spyglass was something left over from playing Pirates as a child, but it came in handy. He trained the glass upon the form of Grace Tenderstitch and adjusted the Focus, upon her face.
Here is what he saw. Grace stood in the garden in the late morning in her pajamas, Murray at her side. Depressed people have a sometimes difficult time getting going in the morning and this was true for Grace. She was at best disheveled. Her hair was mopped above her face and caught in an elastic, from which hanks of gray shot out like ropes that had unraveled. Her mouth drooped at the ends, Curled downward in an expression of dissatisfaction that lined its way over into pouches at her chin line. Her eyes were half mooned underneath with purple, and puffy. A cup of coffee rose to her mouth and she sipped, choked and sputtered. She wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, and Bennet could see that she spoke, but could not hear her words.
Meanwhile above him the bird that he thought was a hawk, but was in truth an Osprey, called again and glided down the pasture to hitch itself up on the Gate post near to Grace. He watched as Grace seemed to speak with the bird, and turned to look up the pasture to where he stood spying on her with his Monocular. He had a full view of her face, now angry, in his glass before he hastily pocketed it in his trousers. Much to his dismay, Grace Tenderstitch started through the gate and took a northward path through the pasture, and toward him.

Visitors

2010-05-30T18:33:00.000-04:00

Ok this summer I am hanging out with a few friends, working in the Garden, and drinking fruit Nectar. Grace tenderstitch is going to Fall in Love this Summer and get over her Depression. Nothing like a little Limerence to get the Dopamine going!

Bennet Wimmer

2010-05-23T12:15:00.000-04:00

Bennet Wimmer rose early as was his custom. He glanced downward at his wrinkled trousers and made a half hearted attempt to smooth the horizontal lines. He reminded himself that his appearance was not as important as it use to be. He was ambivalent about that as well as the decision he had made to return to his Mother's home, and assist her as her health failed. She was gone now for several weeks and he missed her. He also missed his old life as a professor of Botany at the Mosswood College in Littletwig, Florida.
Bennet stood before the bathroom mirror in his Mother's home and realized that it was his home now. He was not entirely comfortable with his inheritance, and felt like a child who had been given a set of hand me downs, and was expected to be grateful.
That was not exactly true,Bennet thought to himself. He loved it here. Truthfully, the property where he had grown up was almost sacred to him. The inspiration for his vocation had come from climbing in the trees, eating the wild raspberries and pruning the apple trees. There were so many things to be sorted out, not the least of which was the direction of his own life in "Retirement."
Bennet slipped his feet into his walking shoes, and headed out the door to survey his property. It was time to make some decisions about where to begin his new life.
The spring had come and was about to exit into full summer. He climbed the gently sloping yard to the field beyond. It had once been plowed and produced a great deal of garden vegetables; tomatoes, corn, and squash. He made a mental note to check the seed catalog for short season vegetable seeds. A hawk called over head and Bennet looked up. He watched the bird glide to a distant tree and light there, looking down at him. He hiked his long legs across his field in the direction of the trees, and hawk and the fence to his neighbor's property. The hawk called noisily from the tops of a maple, as if to summon him . "I am coming," thought Bennet as he crested the slope. He wondered momentarily at this thought, fanciful as it was. "I remember this place," Bennet said aloud. He climbed the wide gate that joined the ends of an old stone fence. The fence had crumbled in some places but was largely intact. It neatly hemmed an emerald patch of pastureland. The morning sun illuminated the green and it seemed to glow golden. Bennet Wimmer, stood like he did as a child, with his feet on the bottom rung of the gate and looked at the northern pasture of the Tenderstitch farm.

2010-05-15T17:29:00.001-04:00

Here's what we did today. We went to Marie Selby Botannical Gardens. Its here in Sarasota. It is one of my Favorite Places to go...ever. Here are some photos I took today while we wandered along.

Sale on MY ETSY

2010-05-11T14:15:00.000-04:00

Sale on My Etsy. Althea and Willa are greatly reduced! See my Etsy on the LEFT. Have a lovely DAY!!!

THE WINNER IS.....

2010-05-09T13:16:00.002-04:00

I used the above HIGHLY Scientific method for the Apple angel drawing, and DAH-DAH!!!!!
Blueberries in the Field
is the WINNER. YAH!!!!!
Happy Mother's Day to everyone!

GRACE'S DREAM

2010-05-07T19:36:00.000-04:00

"Moths do Not sting?" thought Grace as she stumbled back into the house. "That was supposed to make me feel Better? How about if I take a flyswatter to her overconfident little wings?...ManMOTH? Hmmph!"
Grace wanted to sulk. Maude had hurt her feelings that was certainly true, but there was something that Maude had said that had let a thought flutter loose in her head. It wandered just out of touch, ahead of her grasp somehow. Grace tried to calm herself enough to review the words that Maude had uttered. "Martyr" echoed down the halls of her self esteem. Well, I don't think so, thought Grace...but then again...she considered.Grace retreated from the thought and felt her own cheek, hot with anger.
Anger. real and right there at the surface. Maude's remarks and careless retorts had made her feel angry, or had she been angry before then? Angry. She had been so angry. And Anger realized made her feel Frightened and Anxious. Like she was going to take a ride on a wild beast, romp about and destroy the Garden. That night Grace had a dream. It was dark and there was something dripping on her head. She realized that she was covered by leaves and lay at the bottom of a large and suffocating Pile. The earth was gathered round close to her, pressed to shoulders with its rich loamy odor. At first, she panicked and tried to sit bolt upright, struggling for a bit of air. The leaves were gentle hands that pressed her down , down , down until she was sure she lay in a cave. All the while, there was something that dripped and dribbled on her head. Squinting she looked up to catch bits and pieces of her exchange with Maude, dribbling down through the ceiling of leaves above her. "Martyr" was the last thing that dripped through the mass, splashing coldly across her forehead, before she slept.

GRACE SPEAKS

2010-05-05T16:06:00.002-04:00

"What is depression," began Grace. "What is it? I wish I could define it singularly, sum it up in a word, but its Bigger than a word, more invasive than a word and has ugly roots in the corners of my Being..."
"It is a Bad feeling. Complicated and malignant. Its like a sucker fish that travels unwelcome right upon the back of any good mood you have. Leeching the very light or Joy out of moments that are meant to be happy. Depression is sadness, Maude. It is grief, doubt, and anger suck in your gut, tunneled down deep. It is anger at yourself for Not doing something about the things that you can do SOMETHING about. It makes all the world look flat and the colors look faded. It makes all ideas seem either too big to actualize, or too trite to try or to stupid to begin. Its negativity Maude. Self defeating Negativity. It makes pain worse, and sleep a nightmare."
Maude looked up at Grace and said simply "Go on Grace."
"What is worse is I am not sure why I feel this way."
"Well, I hear there have been some goings on around here Grace. Something about an attack of the pie-rats and Prunella Fig-Pink melting into the floorboards of your own Bedroom? Is it true she wanted the Baggaraggs for herself?"
Grace thought for a minute and replied "Yes, I guess that's all so, but I think that's not what is really bothering me Maude.."
"Well, what the hell is it THEN???" Insisted Maude, who was not a patient Therapist.
"I am Tired. Tired of ..." Grace thought a minute. "I am just tired." She finished resigned to leave the end undiscovered. She knew what she was tired of but saying it would make it even uglier, like exposing a terrible and shameful wound.
"I think you'd better out with it Grace," said Maude. "Otherwise we will be here all NIGHT !"
Grace drew an imaginary line in her palm with her forefinger, and let out a sigh. "Jeez Maude, ...you are coming up a bit short on the sympathy."
"You don't need Sympathy Grace, you need a can opener from what I can see."
"I take care of everyone. " Grace said at last. "I am tired, and no one takes care of Me."
Maude rubbed her antennae together and smiled. "That's because you never let anyone take care of you Grace. I am going out to get myself taken care of right this Minute, find myself a nice big Mothman." Maude giggled and added "See ya tomorrow night and you'd better look up Martyr in the dictionary because your picture is right there next to it. Hahahaha" Maude Fluttered off Leaving Grace with her mouth hanging open.

BAGGARAGGS GIVEAWAY

2010-05-03T12:03:00.002-04:00

Please sign up and leave a comment to be a part of this giveaway. Its Apple Angel, and she is looking for a home. Apple Angel celebrates the Life of Johnny Appleseed, an American Pioneeer nurseyman who introduced APPLES into large regions of Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois. He was a living Legend because of his KIND and generous Nature, encouraging others to Plant his APPLE seeds. Oh, I almost forgot about the date of the drawing....HOW ABOUT MOTHER"S DAY? Doesn't give us too much time, so HURRY up and SIGN UP!!!!

Conversations with Maude

2010-04-29T12:24:00.002-04:00

You have heard curse words before I am sure, so I do not need to use any here. What Grace heard interspersed with the tapping noise were the curses of Maude the Moth as she bammed, bammed, bammed into the Light on the back Porch.

"Would you (bam) mind turning (Bam bam) that Damn (bam) thing OFF? " This was Maude's request and Highly directive remark to Grace.
Scrambling, Grace ran for the switch that brought a partial darkness to the porch. The Moonlight leaked through the tree branches, and illuminated the spot where Maude rested exhausted on the silvered leaf of a pothos.
She cursed again, and said "OK Grace, what is it? You turned on the light and called me. Now what is it? Jeez, I have a headache." She rubbed an antennae over her tiny head.
It was Grace's turn to curse, which she did quietly. "I am so sorry Maude. Really. I didn't think...hadn't remembered that leaving the light on like that would send for you...I mean...I have been so ..." Grace could not finish. She stammered and did not finish. To say that she was depressed was an acknowledgement of something she did not wish to face.
Maude peered over at her. "What's wrong with you Grace? You cocooning?"
"Cocooning?" replied Grace bewildered.
"Yeah, the word is you can't get out of Bed. I thought maybe you were going into a cocoon, transforming yourself... You know like we Moths do. I thought maybe you called me to show off your new wings. I was going to congratulate you."
"I am not Transforming, Maude." Grace replied sadly. "I am just depressed," she admitted.
"Depressed? What is "depressed" Grace?"
" I don't really want to have this discussion with you Maude," began Grace in an agitated voice. She stopped herself. Who would listen to her? Who did she wish to have share in this problem? This burden.
"Look Grace, you ask me to come here. Summoned me with the light. I don't know what Depression is, I ask a simple question because I don't know.What is Depression?" Maude looked up with an earnestness that Softened Grace's anger. Maude's antennae were crossed at the tips, and there was concern in her voice.
Grace looked at her hands. She took a deep breath and felt the skin tingle around her chest. She felt a rise of sadness in her gut and the tears fell. She began to speak.

Tapping

2010-04-28T12:43:00.001-04:00

There was no Breakfast that day in the Baggaraggs. No lunch and No Teatime either. Grace stayed in Bed with her eyes closed and drifted, with the annoying awareness that an Abba song intruded non stop in her ears. Her mind seemed to play an endless round of Super Trooper.There was a puddle of saliva that crusted onto the side of her mouth and dribbled over onto her pillow.
She did not care. At times she was hot, and then she was cold. The covers flapped back and forth to adjust to her temperature.
No one disturbed her and had they tried Murray would have issued a growl that would have sent them scurrying.
The Evening came. The light faded and the shadows in the corners of the room were melting into darkness. Grace realized she has spent the entire day in bed. There was the niggling sense of guilt over time wasted, friends not fed, chores ignored.She righted herself at the bedside and sat with her head drooping. Murray rested his head on her knee, and under her hand. They did not speak.
Grace unfolded her self into a stretch. Tentatively searching the spots at the limits of her joints where the pain would come. Trying to avoid the hot discomfort. Arthritis.
An awareness of an unfamiliar tapping sound intruded. Grace momentarily considered ignoring it, but somehow drew a line against her apathy to investigate the noise.
The back porch light was on, had been since the night before. Grace hiked her pajama bottoms up with a hand and held them at her stomach. like a sleep walker, stiff and uncertain, she walked towards the light, and what seemed to be the source of the tapping. The rest of the house was dark.

2010-04-26T12:39:00.000-04:00

I am working on this Young Lady. She will be a Pretty Face. ..not my normal eyes ascew, Raggedy Rompus. Does anyone want to know how to make a doll? Here are some Photos of her progress. I have boxed off the bottom so she will sit nicely.

Edwina

2010-04-26T12:32:00.000-04:00

Here is Little Edwina. She wears her emotions on her face. You can tell what she is thinking, BUT she can tell what you are thinking TOO.

The DIM, the return to Grace Tenderstitch

2010-04-25T12:08:00.002-04:00

It is Spring in the Baggaraggs. The Jack in the Pulpits have edged their way through the forest floor. Forsythia wears the Blossoms of Yellow Easter gloves.The leaves have budded through the bark to make the first few green knuckles appear on the end of naked limbs. The bulbs are up and each day they gain strength and reach up with stronger fingers. The forest begins to gain its green luminescence again. The Light is a Living Thing, and all the Baggaraggian Inhabitants rejoice at the coming of the Warm Time. Grace knows none of this. The verdant new start begins without her. Grace is awakened in the early morning hours, while it is still dark, to the sound of twittering and excited birds. The energy with which they communicate their happiness annoys Grace. She is angry to admit this even to herself. She wishes for quiet. She has nothing to say to the day. No greeting and no plan that she feels she can actuate.
Her Animal friends speak quietly in the kitchen while they wait for their breakfast. If we listen this is what we hear:
"Grace still sleeping?" This remark is whispered by Ernie the weasel to Myron the Mole.
"Oi, she twill sleep her life aways. I'ze hungry Ern. Why won't she gettin up? Tis springtimes. I smell It."
"She Hibernates, and she is wearing a Flat Face when she wakes," said Ernie who was more Psychologically oriented for a Weasel then one might expect.
"I think she has a what they call a Darkness on her. That's when you disappear into your Own Shadow, get lost and become part of the DIM," Ernie added.
"Oi, I'Ze Hungry Ern," replied the Mole, who could not comprehend the Idea of the DIM.
Grace stirred and rose. Her movements were slow and seemed painful. Murray rose to greet her. He agreed with Ernie's assessment about the DIM and he wanted the old Grace back.

Strong and Brave and Cancer free

2010-04-05T13:33:00.001-04:00

Here is a Photo of My sister Shelly. She and her Husband Doug are Inn Keepers in Brandon, Vermont. That's their Logo right to the left. The Lilac Inn. If you click on it , it will take you to the prettiest Inn I have ever seen.

My sister is very Brave, Very Strong and is now Cancer Free. I am Thankful to God for that. I love her alot. Ladies Please have your Mammograms. It might save your Life.

He has Risen!

2010-04-04T10:12:00.000-04:00

Happy Easter to all of you Folks that follow my blog. Christ has Risen indeed.

Gomez

2010-03-15T14:36:00.000-04:00

When I dream good dreams, and remember them I am frequently dancing. My Husband is NOT a dancer so my partners are not the usual suspects. Last Night it was Gomez. He had quite a tango and his Rumba...WOW. Now in dreams anything is possible...even me dancing a Tango with Gomez who was speaking in French.

My Visit with Rubens

2010-03-09T10:23:00.001-05:00

I am quite a Lucky Girl. Living here in the Baggaraggs, I have axcess to the Ringling Museum of ART, which has the largest collection of Rubens tapestries in the US...maybe the world. I think the other two are in the Vatican. Ringling has the rest. As I am feeling a bit better, and Monday being a FREE day at Ringling, My HUB and I went along to Ringling for my visit with Peter Paul...
There are not words to describe how much I love it there. Ringling is like a Church in a way. There is alot of Religious ART there, Including the Blue Madonna.

I cannot shoot photos without a flash there, which they do not permitt. So My Hub and I got some lovely photos of the inner courtyard. If you EVER have the opportunity to see the Ringling Museum, then JUST DO IT! I said to my HUB, "Kinda makes you want to do a little YARD WORK, doesn't it HONEY?" LOL
I so love it.

THANK YOU HOLLY!

2010-03-06T10:33:00.002-05:00

A BIG thank You to HOLLY of Banner Haus for helping me with my Butterlies on my blog. I appreciate you HOLLY. Check out her graphics:bannerhaus.blogspot.com