I wanted to share with you just a couple . . . → Read More: A Heart of Pressed Flowers]]> Happy Saturday, dear friends!  I do hope the weekend is good to us all.  Today is a work day for me, but I am so grateful to be working from home and to have a job that allows me to support myself and my children.  All is well.

I wanted to share with you just a couple of things.  First, a little, most humble gift I made for a sweet friend in a nursing home.

It is a bunch of pressed flowers, from last year from The Wild Little Garden.   I put them in the shape of a heart (never discount even individual petals that seem to be uselessly falling apart, for they allowed the heart to take shape!

I placed them in a laminating sleeve and then ran it through the laminator.

While not fancy at all, it can be handled without hurting anyone (no glass) and it is pretty hanging in a window.  It will keep its color for about a year, maybe more, depending on how much sun it gets.

In fashion news, I wanted to show you one of the bright dresses I found a couple of months back at G.W. Boutique — a 4 dollar treasure!  If ever I feel down, I just slip this particular dress on and I feel like a flower in a garden!  You will see once again the favorite black shoes and my trademark white stockings, but look for some new shoes to be posted about soon!  I found two really cute pairs today!  Even now, my feet are covered in vitamin E lotion and dressed in thick socks, trying to make these 40-something-year-old feet as pretty as possible!

Thanks, mom, for taking pictures!  Excuse the grainier ones.  All were taken with a phone! 

Do enjoy the day!  I heard a little commentary on the radio last week.  The bottom line was this: 

Winners are not those who never fail, but those who refuse to give up! 

May we all keep trying!

“Only an ugly thistle,” I heard you say Of a pretty purple blossom Beside the way. But that was before the pastures Were bare and brown, Or Frost had cut with his sickle The flowers down.

Here now is this self-same prickly And ugly weed, But its tufts of purple blossom Have gone to seed. And forth from their dingy covers Come lovely things – The tiniest of creatures, flying On . . . → Read More: The Thistle]]>

“Only an ugly thistle,”
I heard you say
Of a pretty purple blossom
Beside the way.
But that was before the pastures
Were bare and brown,
Or Frost had cut with his sickle
The flowers down.

Here now is this self-same prickly
And ugly weed,
But its tufts of purple blossom
Have gone to seed.
And forth from their dingy covers
Come lovely things –
The tiniest of creatures, flying
On silken wings.

These are the seeds, and hither
And thither they go,
Light as the downiest feather,
White as the snow.
Loitering, or blown and drifted
About the air,
They make dull days in November
Seem almost fair.

~Clara Doty Bates

I read this earlier today in a very, very old children’s book called Seashore Chats, published in 1898. 

I could not help but think of my own life — marriage over, buckets of tears left behind, and a garden of 23 years overgrowing from neglect these days. But on the winds of change (yes, they are a blowin’) I see the tiniest, most beautiful seeds.

You see, life is precious. And we only get one of them. Are we to be selfish with our lives, saving every last ounce of energy and time and thought for ourselves? No! But when a person becomes so sad and so drained as to have no peace, and when little ones are caught staring hard at their mother, wondering if she’s okay, then self-preservation must begin. That is when it should begin. That is when it does begin.

And what are seeds, except self-preservation? There are so many lessons in the garden, dear friends. I am humbled and amazed at the lessons that are indeed there!

And, dear friends, it does not take disaster to bring out the delicate seeds of beautiful change.  Seeds of change can take the form of better eating habits, commiting to daily outdoor walks, or vowing to speak in a softer voice to one’s children.  Seeds of change are beautiful! 

My “flower of the day” today is not a thistle, but a white silky rose, pinned to a white Ann Taylor sweater, a recent thifty 3-dollar find.  If I see perfectly clean and delicate silk flowers at the thrift store, I buy them up if they seem to match my purposes for them. 

You can take a bloom apart and use as many or as few of the petals as you want.  Put a smaller flower (paper flowers are good)  inside and pin it all to your sweater with a safety pin coming from the inside of your sweater.  Just be careful and don’t get stuck! 

Another recent thrifty find, which I am absolutely LOVING, is this long (sweeps the floor) denim Arden B. skirt.  I should have photographed the hem (or lack of one!) because it is the type of skirt that looks as if it had been hemmed and then it was all let out.  Very cool.  A few strings.  I love it!

Perhaps I should learn not to swing all my weight onto one hip right before the flash.  Sorry!  I really mean it!  Sorry!  But I did want you to see the lovely V-shape set into the back of the skirt, so I am including this picture anyway!  It’s a very pretty and flattering skirt!  Skirt = 4 dollars.

Here is wishing you joy and wonder, and delicate seeds of change!

And now…

I accept your dare!  The Alice Tree will be!  The month of January is Alice Month at Rose Cottage!  More lights!  Alice tags, Alice tarts, Alice roses, Alice ornaments!  It will be quite the tree!  You are invited to join me!  And we will share our trees come the end of January!

Enjoy this day!

I find that a person has to have a bit of wonder in her life, or life loses luster.   Just a bit of wonder will do!  A bunch of bright red berries on a gray day.   A snowflake melting in the palm of . . . → Read More: Living In Wonderland]]> wonder (wun’der) — n. …7. the emotion excited by what is strange and surprising;

I find that a person has to have a bit of wonder in her life, or life loses luster.   Just a bit of wonder will do!  A bunch of bright red berries on a gray day.   A snowflake melting in the palm of an ungloved hand.  A smile from her sweetheart. 

Sometimes wonder is all that sustains.  And when wonder won’t rain down on its own, it has to be sought for and made up.  Like clay mushrooms.  Like treasures from the past.  Like words poured out on paper. 

I am proficient at spinning a cloak of wonder to throw over that which surrounds me.  It’s a gift I am thankful for.  Truly.

Even now, I have formed a habit when it comes to putting one step in front of the other each morning.  There is a fresh, imagined wonder over what the day may bring!  One of the first steps into wonderland I take each day is getting dressed. 

Life is too short to dress ugly. 

My dear friend Marqueta said that, and it’s a quotation I take to heart.  Do I look frumpy at times?  Well, of course.  But I love to start the day out looking the best that I can.  Every.  Single.  Day.  It makes me very happy! 

 A skirt practically bounding away in pleats and tucks found its way out of the closet this morning.  Layers of pink topped it off, because this morning was one of those “but I’m still tired!” mornings, and I thought the soft pink would be good for my complexion today.  I wore tall black boots with the look of riding boots.  One never knows.  Especially since Jane Austen’s Emma has been on my mind.

A bit of hair gel ( I love Studio Line by Loreal) makes that pouf look shiny and keeps loose hairs from tickling my nose all day.  Ahhh, pretty clips — just more wonder from wonderland.

And speaking of wonderland, let’s stayon the topic of all things wondrous.  Shall we?

My little sweetheart daughter had the project at school of reading a book and then making a game to go with it.  I think her game turned out to be absolutely and most colorfully inviting!

Just look at the little game pieces she baked from clay!

Her book, of course, was Alice In Wonderland by Lewis Carroll.  I think she did an amazing job.  I am of the belief that this “board” should be framed and put on her wall!

More Alice!  More wonder!  It shall not cease!

You know that I have a fascination with little Alice anyway, as I have fashioned more than one brooch with Alice on the front…

John Tenniel’s Alice

Arthur Rackham’s Alice

A.E. Jackson’s Alice

My own rendering of Alice.

Shower of Cards by John Tenniel

Come to think of it, I am wonderfully inspired!  The clay calls, the paper calls, the sparkles, the glue, the pencils, the wonder of what can be made!  It all calls!  In fact, I am thinking some sort of pink Alice Tree (refer to last post with pink Christmas tree) would be most fun!!  January could be Alice month ’round here!  Oh yay!

Everything’s got a moral, if only you can find it.
~Lewis Carroll

Here’s to finding the wonder in your own life!

Enjoy this day!

I have been knowing all day that I needed to post here, but the day has run away from me!  I worked this morning, took the van to the shop in the middle of the day, then had to come home and work again, all this structured around getting the kids to and from . . . → Read More: The Name From The Hat]]> My Dear Readers,

I have been knowing all day that I needed to post here, but the day has run away from me!  I worked this morning, took the van to the shop in the middle of the day, then had to come home and work again, all this structured around getting the kids to and from school, packing lunches, eating, walking Annie, etc. 

At any rate, my girl, Michaela, held the hat which the names were put into.  Yours truly, the photographer, had to get at least one or two fun pics.

Here we go…

Yay, Andrea!!  And dear Andrea, just so you know, this is not a sad face from Michaela, but just a face.  Believe me, I see a lot of faces these days, and occasionally one looks like this.  I love ‘em all! 

Andrea, unless your address has changed, I have it, and I will mail your print out to you! 

Enjoy what is left of the day!  And I truly hope you enjoyed the first part of the day!

xoxo

Has sort of a peasant look, but the lace makes it more Victorian, I think.  I love it.  Love my trips to hunt for cast-0ff treasures. 

Thank you to all of you, dear friends, who . . . → Read More: Just Another Lacy Shirt]]> So my local Goodwill had just another lacy shirt, tags still on it.  I made it mine, brought it home and washed it.

Has sort of a peasant look, but the lace makes it more Victorian, I think.  I love it.  Love my trips to hunt for cast-0ff treasures. 

Thank you to all of you, dear friends, who sent so many well wishes my way.  One thing I did figure out, with the help of a dear friend locally, is that I have likely let my magnesium get too low again.  Stress is a vicious thing.  Even after my potassium came up, the palpitations continued.  I told a friend who was standing next to me at a recent gathering and she said, “you need magnesium.”

It dawned on me that, yes, that was one of the things that my “special” thyroid doctor had me on, and extra of it!  I feel like a deer in headlights some days.  I had not been taking enough magnesium and I suddenly knew it.  And did you know that low magnesium causes low potassium?

Sigh.

Onward and upward! 

I was cleaning out some papers and  came across some quotations to share before I throw these pages out.

If a man will begin with certainties, he shall end in doubts, but if he will be content to  begin with doubts, he shall end in certainties.  ~Francis Bacon

It is good even for old men to learn wisdom.  ~Aeschylus

Where there is much desire to learn, there of necessity will be much arguing, much writing, many opinions; for opinion in good men is but knowledge in the making.  ~John Milton

Discovery consists of seeing what everybody has seen and thinking what nobody has thought.  ~Albert Szent-Gyorgyi

A fool sees not the same tree that a wise man sees.  ~William Blake

No one can possibly know what is about to happen; it is happening each time, for the first time, for the only time.  ~James Baldwin

There are big men, men of intellect, men of talent and men of action; but the great man is difficult to find, and it needs—apart from discernment—a certain greatness to find him.  ~Margot Asquith

Must get back to work today.  On a tiny break.  I am happy for today.

Enjoy this day!

The gloom of the world is but a shadow; behind it, yet within our reach, is joy.  Take joy.  ~Fra Giovanni

I loved it as soon as I read it, and I think I have always tried to live my life that way. I wanted to . . . → Read More: Take Joy]]> I first read that in one of my Tasha Tudor books.  Take joy.

The gloom of the world is but a shadow; behind it, yet within our reach, is joy.  Take joy.  ~Fra Giovanni

I loved it as soon as I read it, and I think I have always tried to live my life that way. I wanted to have joy. You cannot give others joy if you do not have joy yourself.

I’ve been thinking about what brought me to where I am today.  Part of it was that joy was gone.  Joy had been removed to a place too far away.  Too hard to reach.  Impossible to reach.  The clouds were too thick.  The sky too harsh. 

Taking joy is sometimes a hard thing to do.  But, depending on how priceless a joy one is talking about, the reward that comes is so much greater than could be imagined. 

I am rambling.  Forgive me.

On a joyful note in the family sense, I was looking through old pictures last night.

Taken in the North Carolina mountains, I know these pictures are grainy, but I remember so well the love I had for my babies!

Joseph and I were sort of celebrities that day as a default, simply because he was the youngest Wilson in attendance.  As it turned out, the youngest and oldest members of the family continually got greeted.  Joseph got many little handshakes that day accompanied by a personal hello.  “I hear you are the youngest Wilson here today.”  It was sweet.

As an update, I just want to report that I am so thankful to have joy again.  It is hard sometimes, even for me who is constantly preaching it, but I want to just enjoy this day.

One of the scariest days of my life.

Or sometimes I will look at a curtain, or a blanket, or just the way a piece of paper is laying on top of something else, and I . . . → Read More: Seeing What’s Not There]]> I love finding hidden faces and things within other things.  Do you know what I mean?  Like the monster in the greens.

One of the scariest days of my life.

Or sometimes I will look at a curtain, or a blanket, or just the way a piece of paper is laying on top of something else, and I will see a face or a creature.  I wonder why.  Do you do that?  (If the answer is no, you don’t have to tell me.)

Sometimes it’s not scary.  I picked up the paper towel that had been underneath my paintbrush water.  And just look at the bright colors!  This paper towel actually made me happy for a little while.

No wonder children like boxes and wrappers better than the toys.  Do we lose that somewhere as we grow?  Or do our senses become more sophisticated and we just need more and more and more.  Do we fool ourselves?  Or what?

Again, you might not want to answer me this morning.  It’s one of those days where I am not sure what to think about anything. 

But on this paper towel, do you see the little paintbrush?

And the coincidence of having my paintbrush drippings make the random picture of, well, a paintbrush!  I think it is a good sign.  Don’t you?

Maybe if we look closer at the people around us, we’ll see hidden things.  

Enjoy this day.

But it’s true.  And over and over throughout time the . . . → Read More: Is Falling To Pieces Ever Pretty?]]> John Keats said “the poetry of earth is never dead.”  I keep thinking about that.  Try telling that to someone without food, with concrete for a front yard and a broken fence and ugly walls for a backyard.   Try telling that to someone living through famine, disaster, loss.

But it’s true.  And over and over throughout time the world has given us brilliance out of rubble.  Great minds and tender souls have come out of what looks like blackness and ashes.   Poetry is not always easy.  And the beauty of nature can get lost in human suffering.

We are sometimes told that our course is determined by the set of our own sails and not the winds. 

I cling to that right now.  To the thought that the poetry of the earth is never dead.  That there is beauty and life even in hard things. 

In the end of Acts when Paul stood before King Agrippa, he said he counted himself happy to give an account for the things of which he had been accused.  Happy. 

Folks, those were the days when the likes of Augustus Caesar, Marc Antony and Cleopatra fought for power.   King Agrippa was a powerful man.  I would have been scared.  I would have been worried.  I might have been lots of things.  But happy.

Paul was happy.  And the record we have of his happiness in tribulation speaks across thousands of years.

Maybe falling to pieces can be pretty.   Maybe hardship does work something in us that is beautiful.

Enjoy this day.