I think the year should start in September, when the freesias open and bloom. The sun is grinning again but the nights still bite my toes. It is the season for birthdays.
(Of course it’s still July and I have to make do with african daisies.)
She loved too many things, that was her problem, and they didn’t always love her back. Some times they would run away, like the field mouse she kept in her pocket for two whole weeks. Others would slip softly in to the realms of forget-me-so, where ballet shoes and half empty diaries collected dust bunnies [...]
Today was a dream of blue skies and pages and tiny sweet strawberries. It seemed to hurry along like good days do, but I found some of the blessed slowness that I have been looking for in there somewhere. Morning was a walk to the library for Cassandra (which I’ve been needing to read lately) [...]
I am building a tower, stone by stone, a tower in the woods as high as it can be. I am building a tower without a door, to hide away and run away and never be found. I will fill it with everything beautiful, soft cushions, velvet gowns, books and paints and embroidery silk. It [...]
Today was washing on the line and the chance of rain and houndstooth skirts and crunchy apples and curling up on the grass beneath the Jacaranda tree in a small pile of blankets to read.
I have a secret love for Spiderwick. It reminds me to look for Stray Sods on our lawn and inspect patches [...]
In the morning I found a cold silver bell, dripping dew, in my garden. Left behind by midnight revellers, it was caught on a vine and played a silken melody to the wind. I picked it like a tiny argent pear. I shall wear it on my charm bracelet and use it to catch Their [...]
Meg, wearing mackintosh boots and a red mackintosh, and with a red sou’wester tied beneath her chin, splashed down the drive, and under dripping oak-trees, in a state of happiness deeper and more perfect than any other she was likely to know while she lived in this world. Elizabeth Goudge
I need a [...]
They told me it was all blocked up, the fireplace, but they lied. I know because I can hear the north wind blowing at night, I know because when it storms tiny drops of rain hit the dusty bricks. I don’t mind though, I like the winter’s lullabies and I’m going to fill it with [...]
