Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Summer Doldrums GIVEAWAY

Don't Miss Out on the Free giveaway. If you have signed up, then you are in. If you haven't, time is left to JUMP in now!

Saturday, July 25, 2009

I had to tear all of this out when we put the new roof on the Lanai porch. Bags of Pothos and Nephitus when to the dump:( No place to grow anything else...its a Jungle out there.

Friday, July 24, 2009


I am Hosting a DOG DAYS OF SUMMER GIVEAWAY, this lovely one of a kind doll that I have created all by myself (LOL) will be given away in a drawing held on (hmmmmm), well how about August the 5th? The day of the next Full MOON. Ok Great. Please sign up by leaving me a comment on my Bloggie here. This doll's name is Ivy Tibbits. Warning: she is looking for someone to marry and has caterpillar lips, which can be rather a draw back on the Marriage mart, so to speak. Ok? So lets find our way out of the summer Doldrums and fight over who gets IVY.

Friday, July 17, 2009


Grace Tenderstitch stepped outside in to the morning light and glanced toward the Hemlocks covered in snow. The sunlight filtered through the ice crystals and pooled in color at the base of the trees, darkly grey. Here and there the forest was illuminated with light that was neither blue nor green, but a faded and collided color of both. You know that color I is also the color of water at times or beach glass, or Ball jars. Aquamarine, I guess would be the best description. Grace stopped for a moment to look deeply into this color as it stretched out into the dark parts of the woods that was covered in snow. For a few moments she thought that she could hear the cry of the gulls at the beach as the blue-green color of the Light filled her memory with a vision of the beach, a far away memory of the wind and the placid water becoming a storm. As she was filled with this vision, she could not help but wonder what it meant.

She turned to assess the scene and search for any evidence of the Pie-Rats. None. Ernie the weasel hustled up to her and began his report. "No sign of them Grace. I think they must be held up at Prunella's House, I guess they is happy now, got a warm spot to rest and food and all. And they got the Thread-Pusher..." he signed mournfully.

"They may have the Thread-Pusher Ernie, "Grace replied but they will not be doing much sewing, I have the cord, The power cord." added Grace.

"All that fighting, all that effort and they left the one thing that makes it all go," laughed Ernie.

"Not too smart." Ernie Finished.

Prunella Fig-Pink emerged from the house, bundled in her own coat and a scarf of Grace's with Mittens and hat to match. Despite the change in clothing and shower, her face was waxen, flat and withdrawn. She bore the mask-like expression of a mannequin. Grace watched her guardedly. Prunella moved slowly, mechanically.

"Have you ever made a snow angel Prunella?" asked Grace, waving towards the snow. It lay before them in great stretches that bore tracks from tiny feet, as varied in size as the number of animals that went about the yard.

"I have as a child many years ago, but not recently Grace."

Grace breathed in. The cool air froze in her nose, and smelled crisp and clean. The scent of an evergreen bough was on the air, the wind moved about her hair and lifted the ends playfully, blowing tears from the eyes of Grace, stinging with the its icy breath. There were sounds. She bent her head to listen to the chirping of the winter birds. A pair of grosbeaks tussled a pine cone that refused to give up its seeds. Grace was aware that she was cold and warm at the same time. There was a momentary thought of the Holidays coming before Grace walked over to a nearby drift and fell over backward in the snow, waving her arms up and down, to create a snow angel. Her face was full of delight. She lay for a time in the icy powder, feeling the cold sneaking into her joints, and gradually becoming chilled.

Prunella watched without interest. She was somewhere far away, unable or unwilling to be a part of the Present.

Saturday, July 4, 2009

The American Picnic and The Apple Angel

The American picnic and The Apple Angel are both available on Lemon Poppy Seeds.

The 4th of July and my Swap with Yankee Primitives

My dear Friends! Happy July 4th! I am posting this Photo of a swap that I participated in through Lemon Poppy Seeds. It is an Uncle Sam Firecracker and several (5) beautifully done bowl fillers from Yankee Primitives. He is just the BEST! Thank you Yankee Prims. YOUR WORK is really Incredible. And Happy Fourth everyone.

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

The Morning

The morning light pryed open Grace's eyelids like a screwdriver would a paint can lid. There was something different about the way it brightened the room, and she laid still listening to the the quiet. It was abnormally bright and abnormally quiet. She new before she looked out a window what that meant. "Snow," she thought to herself. "Its snowed."

Murray struggled to his feet and said, "You up Grace?" She answered in the affirmative. I can tell you that she did not want to be up. Grace longed to snuggle deeper into the blankets and dream of the smell of fresh baking bread, and the aroma of coffee.

She got up.

Prunella Fig-Pink was sitting up in the living room, with her blankets scattered around her. Grace's pajamas hung loosely from one shoulder and her hair, although clean,was twisted around her in a tangled mess. Grace greeted her as she headed to the kitchen and made coffee. "Good morning Prunella," said Grace with a half of a yawn.

"Good Morning, Grace," said Prunella, "Why didn't you come to my Party?"

Grace took a deep breath. "Remember we talked about this last night Prunella? Remember what I said? I honestly don't remember why I didn't come to your party...I don't remember. Its been a very long time ago," Grace finished slightly agitated but trying hard to hang onto being calm. They had discussed this at lenght last night.

Prunella's eyes well up with tears.

Grace Tenderstitch watched with concern as Prunella hung her head and dripped tears onto the blankets. Things had gotten very complicated in a very short period of time, and she longed to sort them out. There was not to be an easy fix though, and Grace sighed deeply.
Murray and Grace exchanged looks. His eyebrows rose and he cocked his head to the side. "Wacko Crackers for Breakfast,' whispered Grace, gesturing towards Prunella.
Murray followed Grace into the kitchen as he said, "I think she needs more help than we can give her, honestly Grace, she is stuck!"
Grace laughed. "I am talking to my dog, who I think talks to me, I have been attacked by Pie-rats, and have a triage area and clinic set up in the basement for wounded animals, staffed by Red Cross Nurses that are MICE. I think I might have one or two squirrels in my own attic," she finished pointing to her head.
"She is Not Present," continued Murray. "she is somewhere stuck back in the past, waiting for her Party."
Grace acknowledged this Nodding her head. "I am wondering what would change if there was a Party...if that would help free her of this....fixation."
"You think if you had a Birthday Party for Prunella, that it would help? We are in the middle of a war with the Pie-rats Grace," pointed out Murray with some exasperation. "Hardly the time to launch a full scale Birthday Party!" He concluded. "inside the World
of Wacko Crackers...that's where we are Grace. I think she may need medication, and that would require a trip to one of those Head doctors...what do you all call it? Psychiatrip?" Murray finished and went to lay down on his favorite kitchen rug in front of the hearth.
The cat door opened and Ernie the weasel stuck his head under the flap. "No signs of the Pie-rats Grace," he said. "Its snowed," he added as an afterthought. He withdrew his head only to trust it through the cat door again with the following query "Any Breakfast?"
"watcha want this morning Ernie?" Grace asked..."Scones again?"
Ernie nodded and once again withdrew through the cat door, closing off the draft that had chilled Grace's ankles and made her shiver a bit.
There was a feeling of comfort and safety in the kitchen at the Baggaraggs. Grace made the scones and as the aroma of the coffee brewing drifted though the house, it brought with it a momentary contentment. The Pie-rats were gone. Where, no one seemed to know.